Page 6 of Captured By the Billionaire Cowboy
“A vacation.” Rowan said the word louder, stronger, as he strode back to the house, unknown emotions issuing a directive he could not ignore. “I haven’t taken a vacation in… how long has it been?”
“One hundred and seventy-two years.”
Rowan frowned. “That’s not true. I took a few hours off last week.”
“Last week?” Confusion transformed to wry understanding. “Are you counting your double root canal?”
“Absolutely,” Rowan replied. “The laughing gas was extremely relaxing.”And the double root canal was, well, painful.
Rodrigo chuckled, and for the first time in a long time, humor swirled… and anticipation. Years had passed since he’d seen his childhood friend. That she was on a mission to save a dozen horses didn’t surprise him, not like his willingness to leave work when he hadn’t taken a vacation in, as Rodrigo guessed, over a hundred years.
Perhaps when he saw Ciara, he would know why.
For a moment, they were teens again. She was the summer to his winter, the brightly shining sun to his darkness. The future he didn’t deserve.
Yet soon the brightness returned to the past, the future that wasn’t meant to be. Impossible yearnings didn’t change anything. Likely she already had a doting husband, with three point two children, yet it wouldn’t matter if she was available. He could never be what she wanted.
Not after what he had become.
“We did it, Jasmine,” Ciara whispered. “You’re safe.” She reached for the Quarter Horse, yet instead of nuzzling her, the horse skittered back, as if afraid of being hit. Fire burned through Ciara’s veins. She probablyhadbeen hit.
Physical scars were visible for the world to see, but horses bore emotional scars as well, painful remnants of past trauma. They remembered damaging events long after the danger was gone, and could even read human body language, recognizing and remembering human feelings. It was why Ciara sought to convey hope and love. “I’m not giving up on you.”
She took a deep breath of woodsy air, tangled with the scent of wildflowers from the surrounding plains. With wide spaces, high ceilings and carved wood embellishments, the spacious stalls were luxury defined, displaying the wealth of the man who owned them. Now they held a cornucopia of horses: Thoroughbreds, Quarter Horses and other types and breeds. They were a varied lot, both male and female, large and small, their coats ranging from winter white to midnight black and all the neutral colors in between. Their personalities were also a spectrum, stretching from timid and shy to loud and aggressive. Their only true link was the neglect they wore for all to see. “I won’t give up on any of you.”
She may never be able to ride Jasmine, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was giving her a decent life.
They needed calmness and understanding, an atmosphere of peace. Ciara softly hummed Too Ra Loo Ra Loo Ral, and, when Jasmine perked up her ears, sang more Irish lullabies, promising love and devotion, a life of hope. Even if Jasmine couldn’t decipher the lyrics, she understood their intention, the love.
The minutes passed, yet Ciara kept singing, as the time melted away. The horses watched in rapt attention, noticeably less agitated, almost peaceful. When she finished a long cappella, she slowly reached out. “Good girl,” she whispered to Jasmine, and this time, the horse didn’t shy away.
Her heart rejoiced.
She backed up, slowly, carefully, so as not to undo the day’s progress. The animals studied her, yet the tension had slid away, and a few seemed all but calm. How astounding what a little kindness could do.
“How are they doing?”
Ciara smiled as her uncail entered the stable, wearing dark blue jeans and a green plaid shirt. A tall man, he stood ramrod straight, his military years never forgotten. Yet a distinct kindness tinted his brilliant blue eyes, and he watched with a softness formality couldn’t hide.
“Wonderful, because of you.” She held her hands to her heart. “I can’t thank you enough.”
The older man waved away the compliment as he approached the animals. Yet a frown soon tugged down his lips, no doubt at their poor condition. “I didn’t do anything. It’s Rowan’s ranch.”
“Still, you’re the one who made this happen.” She shuddered at the unfathomable path they had avoided, the reminder that technically she still hadn’t permission to board the animals. Of course, she would be long gone before Rowan returned.
The thought should bring relief. Most certainly satisfaction. At the very least apathy. Yet the slightest tinge of dismay surfaced, amidst… longing?
She forced her attention back to the animals. “They’re much improved now that they’ve had a good meal.”
Frank studied the horses, keeping his movements measured as he edged nearer. As if sensing a kindred spirit, they didn’t try to bolt. “They’ll be even better with a good night’s rest.” His voice softened. “As will you.”
“I’m fine.” She stood taller, even though she’d been up for almost twenty-four hours, and in frantic motion for most of it. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and the dewy aroma of rainscented the air. “I’m going to stay a little longer, in case the storm spooks them.”
“Did you tell your sister what happened?”
She nodded. “I told Sophia I won’t be home for a few days, and she was kind enough to offer to care for Snowflake. I have some vacation time saved, so work isn’t an issue.” Her sister had been all that was kindness, even offering to drive out herself. Ciara had turned her down, but her sister’s steady support meant everything.
Thunder sounded again, this time louder, closer. Frank took a fleece jacket off a metal hook and handed it to her. “If I thought arguing would make a difference, I would, but I see that stubborn streak you inherited from me. Just don’t stay out here too long,” he ordered. “I had the guest room made up for you.”
