Backlash Tender Trap Aftermath - Lisa Jackson Page 0,40
Tessa said wistfully and offered Brigadier a piece of carrot. “But he can be trouble, too.”
“I’ll remember that,” Nate replied, giving the horse’s rear end a wide berth as he eased back through the gate.
Tessa unsnapped the lead rope and gave Brigadier a slap on the rump. The horse whirled, then took off, his long, red legs flashing as he raced to the far end of the paddock, his ears pricked forward to the next field where Red Wing, Ebony and Tessa’s other three mares grazed. The horses nipped grass and switched flies with their tails.
Tessa’s stomach tightened and her heart grew heavy. Selling her favorite horses felt like selling a vital part of her family. She felt a traitor to her own kin. A hot lump formed in her throat as she watched the three horses, ears still flicking nervously, standing quietly in the shade of a solitary pine.
“Tessa?” Nate asked gently. “If this is gonna bother you—”
“I’ll get over it,” she said, though her eyes burned with unshed tears. She hurried through the gate and managed a wan smile.
“Okay. But if you change your mind, let me know.” Nate turned toward his Jeep. “I’ll call you in the next couple of days with an offer.”
“I’ll look forward to it,” Tessa lied, her heart tearing a little. “And tell Sherrie I’m ready to give her riding lessons whenever she can convince Paula she’s old enough to handle a horse.”
“Don’t hold your breath.” Nate chuckled, his eyes bright at the thought of his daughter. “If Paula has her way, Sherrie never will get into a saddle.”
Tessa nodded. “I’ll bet Sherrie convinces her otherwise.” “We’ll see. That chestnut mare—” He hitched his thumb toward the barn.
“Red Wing?”
Nate nodded and climbed into his Jeep. “I think Red Wing or that foal of hers will be perfect for Sherrie. Just give me a couple of days to convince my wife.” He slammed the door and started the engine.
Well, Tessa thought unhappily as she watched Nate’s Jeep disappear, the wheels were in motion. As soon as Nate bought the horses, she could make Denver a formal offer on the ranch. Kicking at a clod of dirt with the toe of her boot, she wondered why she didn’t feel happy at the prospect. She glanced again at the paddock. Ebony was playfully nipping Red Wing’s neck and was rewarded with a disgruntled kick. Tessa’s eyes filled with tears. Dear Lord, I’ll miss them, she thought, this small herd that had been the focus of her life until Denver returned.
Denver. He was behind all this. She squeezed her eyes shut and fought the urge to sag against the fence. Could she ever really trust him?
* * *
Two days later, Tessa was working with the most temperamental colt on the ranch. “Easy, now,” she cooed, straining against the lead rope. An ornery roan yearling, appropriately named Frenzy, was on the other end of the leather strap, pulling and bucking and being a real pain in the backside. As usual. The high-strung roan seemed to enjoy giving Tessa fits.
It didn’t help that Tessa had been in a foul mood herself ever since seeing Nate. And her nerves had been on edge since she noticed Denver watching her every move. She’d seen him staring through the study window, known he was in the barn, felt his eyes on her when she was going about her chores. Though they hadn’t said a word, the charged tension between them had been stretched as tight as piano string, ready to break.
Frenzy yanked hard on the rope, tossing his red head and whistling. The leather slid through Tessa’s hands. “Calm down,” she said, soothing the colt with her voice. She inched forward and Frenzy, wild-eyed, reared and bolted. The rope snapped taut and pulled her off her feet. She flew through the air and landed with a smack on the dry ground.
“Oof!” Her bones jarred. Lifting her head, she spied Frenzy at the far end of the paddock. “Ingrate!” Tessa whispered, standing slowly and dusting her jeans. “Stupid, miserable beast!”
Still muttering under her breath, she turned and found Denver standing in the shade of the barn. One shoulder propped against the weathered boards, his arms folded over his chest, he tried unsuccessfully to smother a smile. “I thought you saved all those endearments for me,” he said, chuckling.
Tessa’s temper, already worn thin, snapped. “No,” she said, “I’ve got special names for you.”