Page 52 of The Guy Who Stole My Ranch

Chapter 14

-William-

I’d been wondering why Brooke’s brother, Rick, had sent me a text asking if I’d be interested in joining him at a horse rescue near San Antonio. At first, I figured he’d be asking for a donation, which I was more than willing to give, but when I spotted Brooke’s truck outside the barn, I decided that money may not have been his only motivation.

Patrick laughed when he saw her vehicle. “I think you’re in trouble, William.”

I hadn’t missed the way Robert looked at Brooke and me. Like a hopeful dad with the expectation of a bundle of grandkids on his mind. Her family thought there was more between us than there was. I’d have to talk to Robert about it later.

Not that I had a problem spending time with Brooke, but we were keeping things professional.

Iwas keeping things professional.

I’d been telling myself that each and every hour since I’d gotten here.

Especially since Carlotta had been bombarding social media with laments of our breakup. She’d even called me a few times—I hadn’t answered—to demand that I see her in person. My mother, who had also called multiple times, supported me in this difficult moment of my life and had two more women I just had to take to the opera.

I didn’t even like opera, although no one would ever know that. I could appreciate the hard work that went into a performance, but in the end, I’d rather go dancing.

“You sure you want to go in there?” Patrick looked at me from the front seat. I didn’t miss the gleam in his eye.

“I’m sure it’s fine,” I said.

Patrick jumped out and came around. Frank, who wasn’t excited to be up this early, lifted his head when he heard the door click open.

“Would you like me to rescue you in thirty minutes?” Patrick asked.

I thought about it. Spending time with Brooke wasn’t a problem, but with one of her brothers there who was likely ready to push us together, things might get awkward. I nodded. “Yes, please.”

“You’ve got it.” Patrick looked down at Frank, who had jumped out and was now yawning. “Would you like me to keep him?”

I shook my head. “Horses are his favorite thing.”

Frank’s ears perked up at the word horses.

“Come on, Frank, let’s go make some new friends.” My dog jogged next to me as I approached the dilapidated barn. A quick inspection told me that the whole thing needed to be repaired and that the people who ran the place likely didn’t have the money to do it. Maybe I would be making a donation today after all.

To be honest, the building could easily be featured in a horror film, complete with a sagging roof, peeling paint, and dangling shutters. The door hung a little crooked and was propped open by a rock the size of Frank’s head.

As soon as we entered the barn proper, Frank’s nose started to twitch, and he looked around with renewed interest.

A stall nearby was open, and two women stood at the far end of the building. One of them was Brooke—I’d recognize her from a thousand paces away and could probably pick her out of a crowd of twice that many people—and the other must work here, because I’d never seen the tall blond before.

I walked slowly toward the open stall, but a horse stuck its head over the nearest wood gate, and Frank veered toward it. My dog’s tail went crazy, and he put one front paw on the gate and extended his own nose until he and the horse almost touched.

The horse?a piece of paper taped to the wall told me her name was Mad Madam Mim?tossed her head, but not in anger. She immediately went back to sniffing Frank, whose tail somehow managed to speed up.

I moved to the horse and held out my hand so she could sniff me. She went totally still when I approached and then stepped away.

Frank looked up at me as if to demand what I’d done with his friend, so I gave his head a scratch. “We can come back.” I tugged on the leash so he’d follow me to the open stall.

Several other horses had come to see what was going on, but all I could hear was the murmur of the two women talking.

When I got to the open stall, I found Rick inside with an older horse. The poor creature was so swaybacked that it looked like a sumo wrestler had been riding him for ten years straight. The animal flicked his ears at me, then at Frank, who sat on his haunches and grinned at the larger beast.

Rick, who had been feeling the horse’s knee, turned and smiled. “Hey,” he said softly.

“Brooke doesn’t know I’m coming, does she?” I decided to get the obvious questions out of the way.

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