High-Stakes Colton. Karen Anders
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Henry was on the far end of the paddock working with the three horses on a lunge line. Jake didn’t like this development. He was worried Henry would try to recruit one of the impressionable, vulnerable teens. He was more determined to keep tabs on this potentially dangerous ranch hand. “I don’t need a bridle thing?” Clay asked, his voice a bit wobbly. Jake focused on him again.
“Apparently not with Lotus. Ms. Colton would have bridled her once she got the horse out of the stall.”
His expression was wry. “She gave me a horse that babies ride.” It was clear Clay was disgusted.
“Not necessarily, but an easy one. Not everything needs to be a battle, especially the first time you learn to ride.”
Lotus snorted and shook her mane. Clay jumped away with a startled look.
Jake tried not to laugh. He went over to the kid and said, “That’s a contented snort. She wants you to ride her.”
“Don’t laugh,” Clay said.
Jake nodded, schooling his features. “Let’s get you up on her.”
Then Alanna’s soft voice came from right beside him. “Jake is a professional. He would never laugh.”
Caught off guard, Jake turned toward her and caught her eye. The gleam of shared amusement was in the green depths. He must have been concentrating too much. Hardly anyone sneaked up on him. Being this close to her made it hard to think clearly. She shifted her focus to the horse, then to Clay. Pointing at the stirrup, she said, “Hold the pommel with your left hand, left foot in the stirrup, and up you go. Right leg over the back end, one smooth lift as you push up on your left leg.”
Jake backed off as Alanna took over. He lingered, watching her patiently and expertly teach Clay to ride, keeping part of his attention on Henry. The surprise and joy on the teen’s face obviously fueled Alanna.
So the Colton heiress wasn’t as much of a princess as Jake had first thought and she was getting down into the trenches with her staff. Here she was giving her time and resources to this troubled kid. The pull of her was just this side of magnetic. His instincts told him that she couldn’t have done anything to her father, but the facts warred with his gut.
Chatting up the staff, he’d only found out the family was private but one effusive stable hand talked about Marceline Colton, Whitney’s daughter from her first marriage whom Eldridge adopted and made into a Colton. How she always seemed to be lurking around the stables. He had photos of all the Coltons and he had spied a beautiful, shapely blonde several times, but he hadn’t yet been introduced. Then he’d hit pay dirt with Tamara. She had let it slip that Alanna and her father were at odds about the stable. She’d overheard them arguing one day before he’d disappeared. There seemed to be some dispute as to who was in charge. Tamara said Alanna worked hard and knew what she was doing. Her family should let her actually run the stables instead of acting like she was the figurehead.
It made Jake waffle and wonder all over again if Alanna had made the decision to do away with her father and take control of the stables that way. Now it seemed Fowler was blocking her and usurping her authority when he bought the horse Alanna didn’t approve in advance. That must have rankled, especially if Alanna had something to do with Eldridge’s kidnapping.
With the lesson over, Alanna sent Clay off to dinner. As she headed back to the stable, he came up alongside her.
“You enjoyed that.”
She was beaming as they passed into the barn’s interior. The sun was waning, getting ready to set. There was a vibrancy about her that added color to her cheeks and lit her from within. And she’d been pretty powerful stuff before.
She reached Lotus’s stall and he slid the door open as she led the horse inside. “Was this your brainchild? Colton Valley Ranch Gives Back?” He leaned his back against the side of the stall door as she lifted up the stirrup and hooked it over the saddle horn. She reached for the buckle on the girth and grunted a little as she released the tab.
“Yes, it was. I have always wanted to help the community, get the word out there about how wonderful horses can be for pleasure and work and therapy. Some of the kids are responding beautifully to working at the stables where they hadn’t responded in any other capacity.”
She pulled the saddle from Lotus’s back. Jake pushed off the wall and took it from her. “Like Clay.”
He faced her and their fingers brushed again, but Alanna didn’t remove her fingers. A whiff of her fragrance among all the other pungent smells of the stall only added to his attraction. The killer was it wasn’t some fancy perfume. It was the fresh scent of soap and shampoo. His body soared to life. Like it needed encouragement. Who’d have thought the wafting scent of citrus could give a guy a raging hard-on?
She let go of the saddle and turned back to Lotus. “Exactly like him. He was living mostly on the streets, got caught for shoplifting and instead of juvie, he came here.” She unhooked the lead rope and reached for a brush hanging in a basket. Pulling one out, she started to stroke the horse’s coat. “I offered him a constructive atmosphere instead of destructive. A place where he could live and get back what it felt like to be safe.”
Against his will, memories of Matt surfaced.
She tilted her head and studied him. The look in her eyes was soft and tender, and it did crazy things to his heart. “Did you know someone who lived on the streets? Is that why you have that look on your face?”
She gave Lotus a few more swipes, then dropped the brush into the bucket. He straightened and followed her out. “I knew someone once,” he said.
She headed for the crossover and the tack room. Opening the door, she indicated a saddle rack and he let the pad and blanket drop away into her hands as he slid the saddle in place. She walked over to a blanket bar and set the blanket and pad there.
He was busy neatly adjusting the girth strap, getting it ready for the next time the saddle would be used.
“Making a difference counts,” she said. “It feels good to do something for the greater good.”
He wondered if that was because there was so much infighting in her family. “What prompted you to take on this project?” She turned to him and opened her mouth.
“Alanna?”
The sound of Fowler’s voice sent her gaze to the door. “Here,” she called.
He appeared, looking every inch the oil baron. His mouth pinched when he saw Jake. “I need a word with you.”
“Me?” she asked, although his gaze was on Jake.
“Yes,” he said. “And, you, how goes it with Zorro?”
“It’s Jake. Just in case you forgot my name. It’s progressing,” Jake said.
“See that it continues to progress,” he said curtly, then turned to Alanna. “Come on. We don’t want