Page 2 of What the Cowboy Wants (The Westons of Montana #3)

Four months later

S he was a skittish one. Beautiful, but nervous. Cooper stepped forward. The sorrel, her red coat clearly in need of grooming and care, retreated nervously.

Never taking his eyes from her, Cooper approached her slowly. “You’re a pretty one, aren’t you?” he crooned, keeping his eyes and voice soft. “What happened? You wanna tell me? There must be a reason I found you near the stables this morning.”

Anxiously, she moved away, turning her head.

Cooper stilled. As prey animals, horses’ instinctive response was always fight-or-flight, especially when they felt threatened.

Even though she’d arrived at the Weston Ranch all on her own, she was tense, not quite sure whether she was at the right place.

She moved restlessly, her eyes haunted. Focusing on his breath, his eyes never wavering, Cooper looked at her until she finally fixed her eyes on him.

Around them, everything quieted down. All he was aware of was the animal in front of him and the September sun warming his back. Long moments passed.

At last, several images flitted past him. His heart sighed. As social animals horses had a natural desire to be a part of a herd, but the sorrel had deliberately been kept apart from the others, had been humiliated and hurt. That was why she’d come to him, she silently communicated.

“I’m so glad you’re here, I’ve been waiting for you. You’re safe here,” Cooper answered with his eyes. “I have friends who’d like to meet you.”

Behind him, Prince, the three-legged German Shepherd he’d found on the side of the highway a few years ago, slowly approached the horse.

Following his lead were Charlie, some kind of terrier-mutt he’d found dehydrated and hurt at the entrance of the Weston Ranch a few years back and Ebony, a black Persian cat with one eye who had slipped on to his truck one day while he’d been in Marietta, the closest town to their ranch.

The sorrel neighed nervously, Prince stopped and lay down. With a whimper, he put his head on his front paws. Charlie followed suit but Ebony, never intimidated by anyone of anything, strutted forward, her head held high, her one eye fixed on the sorrel.

The horse neighed loudly, moving backward, but Ebony didn’t slow down. Captivated, Cooper watched the scene in front of him. Ebony walked right up to the sorrel’s legs where she sat down and began to lick her paws.

Cooper grinned. The sorrel wasn’t sure what to make of this. The neigh turned into a soft whinny and she stilled. Prince and Charlie saw this as a sign. They got up and moved closer. Frightened eyes turned to Cooper.

You’ll be fine . Cooper smiled with his eyes.

Finally, the sorrel bent her head and let the animals sniff her.

Cooper chuckled. “There you go. What do we call you? Ruby?” No, she didn’t like it. “Ginger?” She snorted disdainfully and told him her name. “Okay, Scarlett it is.” He grinned.

It had been a dream to bring animals, particularly horses suffering from neglect or abuse and people with the same problem, together. He’d spoken to his brothers and Willow about it a while ago already, they’d all been very supportive.

So he’d waited. Dogs had arrived. He’d given them to people who needed them.

The horses would come when they were needed, he’d known.

And one by one they had arrived. Most of them were in a much better condition now, and over time, he’d brought people who needed healing to meet them.

He wasn’t advertising what he did, but word of mouth brought a steady stream of people to the ranch.

They had other horses on the ranch as well, and he loved working with all of them, but it was the ones who struggled, who had been treated badly that he was keen to help.

Except for his family, he tried to avoid people as far as possible. Like his sister Willow, he instinctively knew when something was wrong, when someone was hurting, but he’d long ago decided to focus his energy on animals.

He loved working with his two brothers and his sister, loved living on this ranch with his family, loved the mountains, being in nature, and yeah, he loved communicating with animals.

It was way better than sitting across from someone immersed in the fictional world they’d created on their phone.

He’d stopped dating a while ago because of that.

Most of the women he’d tried dating were much more interested in their looks, the conversations on their phone, and the size of his ranch than they were in him.

He preferred animals to people any day. If you took the time getting to know them, they’d tell you exactly who they were and what they wanted. There were no hidden agendas.

“So who are you going to help, beautiful?” he asked as he stroked her face.

Whinnying softly, she pressed her face against him.

Chuckling, he continued stroking her. “You’re probably right, I seriously need help. You see, there’s this woman…”

*

Rose was deep in thought as she drove away from Willow’s studio on the Weston Ranch. Molly, the Jack Russel mutt Laura Weston had lent her was sitting beside her, clearly excited at being in the car.

“Willow’s paintings are something else,” she told Molly.

Molly barked as if she understood exactly what Rose was talking about. Smiling, Rose concentrated on the road in front of her. Willow had invited her a while ago to visit and see her paintings, and when she’d repeated the invitation last night at their weekly book club, Rose had accepted.

She was so glad she had, because she’d been blown away by Willow’s talent.

Her friend’s paintings were of life on a Montana ranch.

Willow was working on a series of paintings for an exhibition in December in Seattle.

There were only a few paintings left in her studio, the others had already been packed up, waiting to be shipped.

One painting in particular of fog veiling a winter landscape nearly had Rose in tears, probably because it so perfectly echoed her present confused state of mind.

The tall brunette with the beautiful blue eyes was one of the women she’d met on the very first night she’d stumbled into Ellie Campbell’s yarn shop in Marietta, the small Montana town she now called home.

Since that dreadful day in the beginning of May nearly four months ago when she’d arrived in town, the same women had helped her, supported her, made sure she was fine every day and gently encouraged her to step back into real life again.

Willow, her mother and her two sisters-in law, Ellie and Laura, plus their other friends who had been in the shop on the night she had arrived in town, were all strangers then, people she’d never met before, but since the first moment they just stepped in and showered her with warmth and love.

She’d be forever grateful they had been the ones behind the door of the yarn shop on that cold and miserable night.

Laura had even offered her house to Rose to stay in for as long as she wanted.

As an added bonus, Laura had temporarily lent her Molly, a Jack Russel mutt who didn’t ask questions but was happy to cuddle whenever Rose had the need for comfort.

As much as she wanted to forget that awful day, she knew it was time to tell her friends what had happened. The sheriff in town, Dawson O’Dell, whom she’d met at Ellie’s house a few weeks ago had asked her politely to come and see him.

He’d received word that people were looking for her. It could only be Duncan Young, her ex, and Charlotte Peterson, her cousin. They were probably planning to humiliate her even further. She wasn’t quite ready to be found, though, but soon.

She’d been to see the sheriff but had asked him not to reveal her whereabouts to anyone, only to tell whoever asked about her that she was fine.

Days after she’d arrived in Marietta and gotten a new number, she’d texted her parents to let them know she was safe and that she would contact them soon.

They’d probably heard about the whole humiliating experience from Charlotte anyway.

As usual, they’d been understanding, making her feel even worse for the way she’d behaved toward them and her friends before that fateful night the whole make-believe world she’d created online had tumbled down around her.

The only other people from her previous life she’d communicated with since her arrival were the advertisers she’d worked with to inform them she was no longer on Instagram and wouldn’t be advertising anything again.

She didn’t want stuff to be sent to her address, she’d had no idea how long she’d be away.

Her car suddenly slid, swerved to one side, and clutching the wheel, Rose tried to keep it on the road. As a city girl, driving on a dirt road didn’t come naturally. The road probably wasn’t that bad if you were driving a truck, but her convertible wasn’t really designed for roads like this.

It was nearly half past six, much later than she’d planned to stay, but they were in September already—the transition between summer and fall in Montana—and the sun only set at around eight at night these days.

Temperatures were down and the days were already shorter.

The day had been cloudy, though, and the light was fading fast.

As she took the next corner, some sort of animal was suddenly right there in the middle of the road near what looked like stables she’d seen earlier on her way to see Willow.

Gripping the steering wheel, she stepped on the brakes while putting out a hand to prevent Molly from falling.

In the process she inadvertently turned the wheel, the car left the road and before she was able to get control over it again, it hit something.

The impact threw her head against the window as the car came to a sudden stop.