Page 12 of Captured By the Billionaire Cowboy
She turned her head lest he see the smile. “Fine. I won’t do it now, but I reserve the right if the situation warrants it.”
“I will keep that under advisement. Ready to get started?” He seemed to be hiding his own amusement as he turned back to his tablet, displaying neatly organized notes, with a section for every horse. “The doctor gave specific recommendations for each animal. Let’s evaluate and discuss what needs to be done before the listings.” He traced the lines in the spreadsheet as he gestured to Jasmine. “Physically, this horse is doing fine. She has a few scratches and is malnourished like the rest of them. The doctor said she’d heal quickly. Unfortunately, she’s greatly traumatized.” He reached out, but Jasmine backed up in alarm, jumping, snorting and tossing her head. “Easy girl.” He frowned. “It might be a while before she can be adopted.”
Ciara just stopped herself from reaching for the horse. No doubt the reaction would be the same.For now.“Actually, she’s already been adopted.”
“Really?” He glanced up from the tablet. “By whom?”
“By me.” She leaned against the fence. “I don’t know if Frank told you, but I expected one horse when I went to the ranch. The others were a surprise.”
“This was the horse?” he guessed. When she nodded, he whistled lowly. “It’s not going to be easy. She may never accept you. Are you sure you don’t want one of the others?”
She shook her head firmly. “I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life. The way she looked at me when I came… it was like she knew I was there to rescue her. I plan to give every horse a good home, but I can’t keep them all. Yet the thought of giving up Jasmine seems so wrong. It’s like we’re…” She trailed off, waved her hand.
“Connected.”
Bright blue eyes brimmed with understanding. Something passed between them, something inexplicable, intangible,poignant. He seemed to feel it, too, as, for a moment, fathomless eyes turned pensive. The next second, his neutral mask returned. “We obviously don’t need pictures, but we’ll wash and groom her.”
“I want to do it myself,” Ciara affirmed. “We need to be gentle.”
“Of course.” They moved to the black Thoroughbred in the adjoining stall. Even underweight, he was still a magnificent animal, his personality strong as he pranced closer. “It should be easy to find an adoptive family for this one.” Rowan made a notation on the screen. “What should we call him?”
“I was thinking of Inky.”
“Please tell me you’re joking.”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“Nothing if you’re naming a pet octopus.”
“Did you know I once started a Save the Octopi campaign?”
“I have no doubt.”
She laughed softly. “Perhaps Inky is a little mellow for such a commanding horse,” she admitted. The animal held its head for attention, which she accommodated with a soft caress. “What do you suggest?”
“Deathstar.”
She stared at somber features. “You’re joking.” He stayed still… until his lips quirked up. “You are joking.” She resistedthe urge to tweak him. “Let’s compromise. How about Inky Deathstar?”
Rowan chuckled. It transformed him, vanquishing the ever-present tension and revealing the boy she left behind. Even the horses seemed calmer, as if they could sense his good humor. “What about Blaze?” he suggested.
“Blaze?” Ciara cocked her head to the side. Likely, the stallion would soar over the ground once he received adequate nutrition and exercise. “That’s perfect.”
They moved to the next horse, a frisky mare that soon earned the name Butterfly. They assessed the horses one by one, giving each assurance, a nice rubbing if they were amiable and a suitable name. Conversation flowed, and for a few minutes it was as if no time had passed since they perused Old Man Byrne’s horses so long ago. They had just finished the last when voices sounded from outside. Ciara turned as three men strode into the stables.
Two she recognized right away. Even if she hadn’t seen pictures of Rowan’s lookalike brothers at the estate, their uncanny resemblance made their identities obvious. She’d never actually met them, because their father sent them to camp every summer, but occasionally he mentioned them. Like Rowan, they were handsome men, their strides confident, their bearings assured.
Unlike Rowan, they wore easy smiles.
She had never seen the final man who walked in, not in person or in picture. He possessed a wide smile, auburn hair and the distinctive features of Down syndrome. “Hi Rowan!” he said happily, skipping forward. “We found you!”
Ciara glanced at Rowan. Every muscle was clenched, his lips a thin slash, as he stared at the approaching men.
The two men strode up close behind. “We sure did,” the taller of his two brothers proclaimed. He looked at Ciara, and his smilebroadened. “Is this the lady who inspired you to take your first vacation in a decade?”
CHAPTER 3
Rowan narrowed his eyes.
