Cassidy nodded. “Appreciate your help tonight, Whitehorse. Thanks.”
The kid’s tired face creased into a wide grin. “Sure thing, boss. Sorry we couldn’t save her. She was a sweet animal.” Whitehorse turned and walked toward his truck. Seconds later, the engine roared to life and Randall headed home to his bed.
Ignoring a tug of envy, Cassidy squared his shoulders and started to step across the threshold, only to have Billy stop him. “Let me do it, Cass,” he said.
Cassidy had to unlock his jaw to answer gruffly, “You’ve done enough, but thanks for the offer.”
“Cass, listen to me.” His gaze bored into Cassidy’s, full of a rough intensity. “So the sight of blood makes you sick. So what? There’s no shame to it. Tonight, in there, when the doc…well, I was pretty queasy myself.”
Cassidy fought down the nightmare image of Caine’s scalpel flashing in the light. “Nice try, Billy, but I have to handle this my way.”
The ramrod nodded slowly, demons of his own surfacing for a moment in his tired green eyes. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”
Cassidy watched the man he considered his best friend climb into his pickup and drive away, knowing even as he stood there with the rain sheeting past him that he was stalling. Anything to keep from going back inside, where the stench of blood still hung in the air like a curse.
By the time the sound of the truck faded, he was beginning to wish he’d shucked his pride and accepted Billy’s offer. He searched for an appropriate phrase to describe his own stupidity, then realized he was too tired to swear.
“Just get it done, Sloane,” he muttered as he made himself walk inside.
Even though he was prepared, the metallic odor that enveloped him had him gritting his teeth by the time he’d taken only a few steps. Get it done, he repeated silently, reaching for the pitchfork. He’d pile the blood-soaked straw out back, then scour the stall and the section of the cement floor he could reach with bleach and disinfectant. He’d have to wait for the animal disposal guys to move the corpses before he could finish the job. Still, he’d have the place clean enough so it was safe to let Vicki come in to say goodbye.
Willing his body to cooperate, he set to work. His muscles ached at the abuse, but the pain kept his mind from wandering. Overhead, the rain beat a steady rhythm, like the tick of the metronome Sylvia kept on the piano.
When Vicki had been four or five, it had been one of her favorite toys.
His hands tightened on the fork as he let himself think, finally, of the task that awaited him when this one was done. No matter how he circled the truth in his head tonight, he knew in his gut that telling Vicki was going to be pure hell.
Vicki and her Golden Girl had grown up together. Two frisky and willful youngsters galloping through the fields.
And now, because he’d wanted to breed Goldie’s beauty and heart to the stallion’s courage, Vicki was about to learn the pain of losing her best friend.
* * *
Karen started to turn over in bed, only to find herself teetering precariously on the edge of the mattress. Still half asleep, she pried her eyes open in order to check the time by the clock radio. It was then that she realized she had fallen asleep on Vicki’s narrow bed while waiting for Vicki to drift off.
Next to her, Vicki was cuddled into a ball, her cheeks rosy from sleep, her breathing regular and deep. The room was dark with the exception of a square of muted light from the security lamp shining through the ruffled curtains. The house was quiet. No sound from outside penetrated the old house’s thick walls.
Karen had no idea what time it might be, though she suspected it was a few hours before dawn. Her head ached from too much wine and too little sleep, and her back was stiff from her awkward position.
The last thing she remembered she’d been staring at the glow from the small lamp she’d left burning on the dresser, thinking about the first time Cassidy had made love to her.
It had been in the hayloft of the main barn, a huge old dinosaur of a structure, with a granite foundation and huge oak beams.
Cassidy had been bucking hay bales that day and the scent of fresh-mown alfalfa had filled the air with a delightful sweetness.
It had been close to a hundred degrees that Saturday afternoon, and he’d been working without a shirt. Incredibly strong, utterly beautiful, he’d handled the monstrously heavy bales with an economy of motion that had amazed her. Under a shimmering sheen of sweat, his body had been deeply tanned, a magnificent creation of fluid muscle and resilient sinew, furred across the chest with a soft pelt of black curls.
He’d said very little, but his deep-set dark brown eyes had been liquid with a longing so fierce she’d taken a step backward. But when he’d held out his hand and beckoned her to step from the ladder onto the dusty, hay-strewn floor, she’d obeyed without a second thought.
Even as he’d kissed her out of her shorts and top, she’d been aware of the incredible power of his body, the massively muscled chest, the steely strength in long legs capable of controlling a half-ton horse with ease.
He hadn’t asked for her love, but it had been his from the first gentle, almost shy touch of his callused hand, the first slow smile that reached his eyes as well as his hard mouth.
In her heart they had been wed from the moment he’d slowly eased his body into hers, inexorably stretching her to accommodate his hard length, his muscled frame shuddering from the effort to be gentle. Though he’d said little, she’d felt the hunger in him. The wild, desperate need that seemed to burn through his skin. In return, he’d made her soar.
Vicki had been conceived that hot, dusty day; she was sure of it.
Cassidy had doted on his daughter from the first magical moment of her birth, so much so that he’d wanted more children as soon as Karen’s doctor had given her the go-ahead.
She’d wanted more children, too. A houseful.But later, after she’d finished her education and established herself in a practice. At the time, Cassidy had appeared to understand.
With a sigh, she smoothed the covers closer to her daughter’s stubborn little chin. As Karen started to ease from the bed, she realized that a blanket had been thrown over her as she’d slept. The light had been extinguished as well, she realized belatedly.
Cassidy must have come in to check on Vicki and found her there, too. Had he kissed her when he’d covered her? she wondered, then rejected the notion. Even in her sleep, she would have responded to him.
Bracing herself against the cold, she got to her feet and tiptoed barefoot out of the room. The light was on in the master bedroom. Cassidy was awake, lying naked on his back, his powerful arms folded under his head. One thick forearm bore a long, angry-looking scrape, and on his right shoulder was a large bruise already purpling and puffy, both giving testimony to the battle he must have waged to bring a new foal into the world.
He’d obviously showered. His black hair was still damp and only haphazardly combed away from his lined forehead and he smelled faintly of soap. The covers lay in disarray, as though jerked free in anger, and only the sheet covered him.
At her entrance he turned his head and looked at her. Though his gaze was direct, his expression was shuttered. Oh, no, no! she thought, already preparing herself for the worst.
“Golden Girl?” she asked quietly as she closed the door behind her.
“Gone. The foal, too. Prettiest little filly you ever saw.” His gaze flickered, then held steady again. She wondered again what had happened to him in the past to prompt him to guard his feelings so brutally.
“I’m sorry.”
He acknowledged that with a curt nod. “Doc tried, I’ll give him that. But it was a breech.”
Karen