When Nannette heard about him turning the Rocking M into a horse-therapy ranch, she’d immediately volunteered to help with bookkeeping. Then when they started classes, she’d assumed scheduling duties, as well. Taking the money he’d gotten from the grant Healing Horses received three months ago to hire Nannette McAlister had been the smartest thing he’d ever done.
When her computer finished booting up, she punched some keys and said, “We received another client application.” The hum of the printer filled the office. Nannette grabbed the paper, scanned the application and froze. “This can’t be the same Stacy Michaels.”
“I need a little context, Nannette. So far you aren’t making a lot of sense.”
She walked across the room and handed him the paper. “Stacy Michaels was one of the finalists when Griffin was on that ridiculous dating show.”
Colt had wondered what kind of woman went on a show like that and fought with a pack of women to win the “love” of a man they’d just met.
A woman whose moral compass didn’t point due north, that’s who.
From the little bit he saw of the show, he remembered flighty, beautiful women with long legs and short form-fitting skirts that almost showed the good china. Great to look at, but no substance. Women who’d looked down their more-often-than-not surgically altered noses at just about everyone.
After glancing at the application, he said, “It doesn’t matter if it’s the same woman or not because she wants to sign her brother up for the spring therapeutic sports riding session. It’s already started and it’s full.” He picked up his phone and punched in the number listed on the application. The sultry feminine voice that answered could get a rise out of a man two months after he was dead and buried. His pulse rate shot up like a rodeo bull out of the shoot as he asked to speak to Stacy Michaels.
“This is Stacy.”
He shifted in his desk chair. Lord, he’d been alone too long if a woman’s voice over the phone could get his imagination and motor running this fast.
“Hello? You still there?”
“Yeah. This Colt Montgomery. I run Healing Horses. I received the paperwork for your brother.” He explained about the problem with the class she registered Ryan for. “You’ll need to sign him up for our fall class.”
“That won’t work. I’m in the area to film a movie with Maggie McAlister. In fact, she was the one who recommended your program. I was hoping we could work my brother’s therapy session around my shooting schedule. I could just pop over from Twin Creeks, deal with his therapy and then head right back.”
Pop over? Did she think Healing Horses worked like the drive-through lane at McDonald’s?
“Mr. Montgomery, I’m in a bind here. I can’t lose this movie opportunity, but I have to get my brother into therapy. There has to be something we can do.”
He’d heard about Maggie filming a movie on Twin Creeks. Since becoming parents, she and Griffin had started a production company and were trying to do more projects at the family ranch when their reality show The Next Rodeo Star was on hiatus. Considering that, Stacy probably was the same woman who’d been one of Griffin’s bachelorettes.
He shook his head. His gut told him this woman would be trouble. Stacy was probably a high-maintenance city actress who had people catering to her every whim. That was the last thing he needed, but they weren’t talking about her needing therapy. They were talking about her brother.
The application indicated her brother Ryan had been in a car accident a little over a year ago. He’d suffered a traumatic brain injury that left him with impaired gross and fine motor skills as well memory problems. He’d been through two surgeries to correct his crushed legs. Despite that and extensive physical therapy, he still required a walker and struggled with balance and control issues. The kid was only seventeen.
If he told Stacy no, would she make her brother wait to get therapy until she finished her movie? He refused to be responsible for a kid not getting the therapy he needed. “We offer private classes. ’Course that’s more expensive.”
“Great. Sign Ryan up for that instead.”
Not how much more expensive? Must be nice to not have to worry about money. Now him, he pinched pennies until they cried uncle, but he’d do whatever he needed to in order to make Healing Horses work without having the program’s needs financially impact Jess’s life or her college plans.
“When would you like his therapy to start?” he asked as he jotted down the changes on Ryan’s paperwork.
“We’ll be in Estes Park Thursday. If he could start therapy next week that would be great. Having private sessions will work better than Ryan being part of a class anyway. I’m going to do everything I can to avoid shooting conflicts, but sometimes my schedule changes at the last minute. I’m hoping you can be a little flexible.”
He could see it now, calls with her saying something had come up and she needed to reschedule. Showing up late for appointments because whatever she had been doing ran long. He intended to set her straight up front. “Since we’re a new program, our physical therapist and instructors have other jobs. Rescheduling a session isn’t easy.”
“I’ll try my best to avoid any conflicts.”
Once he ended the call, Nannette asked, “Was it the same Stacy Michaels?”
“Since she’s an actress, I’m pretty sure she’s the one you met. I need you to schedule private sessions for her brother. She said they’ll be getting into town the end of this week. She’d like his therapy to start next week.” He rubbed the back of his neck, where an ache had settled. “Is she as bad as she sounded on the phone? Because she sounded like an arrogant, high-maintenance, huge pain-in-the-butt celebrity.”
“When she showed up at the ranch she looked like she was dressed for some fancy New York City cocktail party. She had on this skimpy, skintight dress and these strappy little heels. In Colorado. In December.”
His stomach dropped. “What about her attitude?”
“I’m not sure we got to see who she really was. Hardly anything that happened on Finding Mrs. Right was real. There were scripts and discussions about what would make good TV. Everything everyone said and did was for the cameras. Her being here will be different. There won’t be any cameras. This is real life. Plus, she’s not the patient. Her brother is.”
“She sounds like someone who creates chaos wherever she goes. We can’t let her upset our routine. A big part of our program is having structure and order.”
“That’s the spirit. You were in the military. Keep her in line.”
Of course Nannette, the spokesperson for the United Optimists of America, would think that. He’d been to Afghanistan and faced the possibility of dying on a daily basis, but women? No man could keep one in line.
* * *
STACY HAD FORGOTTEN how beautiful Estes Park was. Even though she wasn’t really a back-to-nature kind of gal or the outdoorsy type, the scenery called to her.
The Rocky Mountains stood guard around the small town of Estes Park, almost cradling its inhabitants. That reassuring and enduring presence resonated with Stacy. Something about the wide-open spaces eased the tightness in her chest and stilled her restlessness. The last time she was here she discovered how much slower-paced life was. That had been a huge headache for her. Now it felt as if that was exactly what she needed.
So far settling in had gone smoother than she anticipated. She and Ryan had unpacked and stocked their cabin with food and other staples. They’d met with the school, seen to his registration and he started his first day of classes yesterday. She’d met with Maggie and gotten the shooting schedule so she could schedule Ryan’s therapy sessions once they had his initial assessment.