Page 23 of Protected By the Mountain Man

“Fine,” I said finally, though my voice sounded like it belonged to someone else. “But I'm not just going to stand around watching you play cowboy. Give me ten minutes to change.”

“Take your time,” he answered.

Damn him.

He was really starting to get to me. But I couldn't afford to let my guard down around Gabe, despite the unexpected kindness—or whatever it was—he was offering.

The day passed in a blur of activity. With an extra pair of hands, we managed to finish chores that would've taken me all day by noon. Gabe didn't complain, didn't slack off. He worked like he was born to it, and the begrudging respect that started to simmer inside me was annoyingly hard to ignore.

He really had changed. Back when we were kids, he would have been petulant, rude, even aggressive.

Something had happened to him…or maybe we’d both just grown up.

“Looks like we have some extra time now,” he said, leaning against the fence, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. The past few days had been cool, but the sun was blazing hot overhead today—fickle Montana weather.

“Seems so,” I replied.

It left me with a pocket of time I hadn't expected, time I could spend working with Shadow.

Ben’s horse had been skittish ever since the shooting, and I knew he needed some TLC if he was going to get back to normal. He’d been a rescue horse in the first place, and losing Ben had done a number on him.

With Gabe’s help, I could actually help this horse in need.

I headed toward the stable, my boots scuffing up dust with each determined step. Shadow's dark coat gleamed in the slant of light as I approached his stall. He nickered softly, ears pricked forward, sensing the intent in my movements.

“Hey there, boy,” I murmured, reaching out to stroke his muzzle. But at the last moment, I hesitated. In the back of my mind, a thought nagged at me—Gabe had been good with Shadow last night.

“Need a hand with him?” Gabe's voice cut through my deliberation.

I turned, my pride warring with practicality. “Yeah, maybe,” I conceded, my voice cool but my cheeks betraying me with a flush. “If you're up for it.”

He just nodded, not a hint of mockery in his eyes. To my relief, he walked over without another word, clearly understanding this wasn't easy for me.

Together, we led Shadow out to the round pen, the horse's hooves thudding softly on the packed earth. “Alright, Shadow, let's see what you've got today, huh?” I said, trying to keep my tone light and encouraging, despite the tightness in my chest.

Gabe slipped the lunge line onto Shadow's halter with practiced ease. “You've got this, buddy.”

“Okay,” I started, taking a deep breath as I looked into Shadow's intelligent eyes. “Let's work out those nerves.”

With a flick of the wrist, we set Shadow into motion, circling around us, tension easing from his frame with every powerful stride.

“Easy,” Gabe murmured each time Shadow passed by, his voice a steady drumbeat of reassurance. “I know.”

I watched them, a frown tugging at my brows. Gabe's words were more than just encouragement; they sounded personal, intimate even—as if he shared a kindred spirit with the troubled horse. It struck me then how little I knew about the man he’d become since those sweltering summer days after high school, when he’d put Ben in the hospital.

“Doing good, boy,” I called out, but my eyes lingered on Gabe, wondering about the scars he might be hiding.

“Nice work with him,” Gabe said suddenly, pulling me from my thoughts. “Heard you've been working with horses all this time?”

“Uh, yeah.” I was caught off guard, realizing Gabe had just opened the door for me to talk—something I wanted but didn't know how to initiate. “Been doing training for films and TV. Mostly in California, but some work in Texas and Georgia, too.”

“Wow,” Gabe said, a note of genuine admiration in his voice. “Always figured you'd do something great. Queen of 4-H and all.”

I snorted, unable to help the surge of defensiveness that shot through me. “Sure didn't seem like you thought anything good about me back then.”

He went quiet, and I immediately regretted my sharp tongue. It was just like me—quick with my claws. But Gabe wasn't the same cocky guy who would have snapped back. He seemed different now, more inclined to swallow his retort than let it fly.

“Sorry,” I muttered, raking a hand through my hair. “Forget I said that. Let's give Shadow a break, huh? The guy deserves a couple of carrots for putting up with us.”

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