named after cities in Texas. That was very... Texan.
He parked his truck, then unhitched and stored his trailer in an area designated for them. Back up in the apartment he brought in his suitcases and unpacked.
Taking a quick shower to wash the grime of the road off, he put on a clean set of clothes and headed back over to the arena.
He realized with wariness he was excited to see Alanna again, and it had nothing to do with the case and everything to do with the way she looked in those shotgun chaps.
It wasn’t lost on him, evidenced by Ellen the cook’s comments and Alanna warning him that Zorro was dangerous, that neither woman believed he would succeed in rehabilitating the stallion.
“I love Fowler, but he’s wrong about that horse. I don’t believe he can be tamed, and I don’t want any breeding program I’m endorsing to contain genes from a horse with his disposition.” Jake overheard Alanna speaking to a tall man with broad shoulders, salt-and-pepper hair and eyebrows, impressive handlebar mustache and stubble on his cheeks. The man straightened when he saw Jake walk up, clearing his throat, but Alanna had already stuck her proverbial foot into her beautiful mouth. “Whispering won’t do any good. I think Jake is just a plain old cowboy who knows how to manipulate a résumé and reputation. I don’t believe he’s any more a horse whisperer than I am a ballet dancer.”
Jake stopped and put his hands on his hips and the man she was talking to cued her that she’d better button her lip and turn around. When she whipped around, she faced his gaze head-on without flinching. Damn but he liked a flinty woman who knew how to stand her ground, and he wasn’t surprised she was skeptical of his skills. He got the feeling she wasn’t too keen he was here, but now he was certain it wasn’t only the crackling sexual tension between them. He couldn’t mistake that for anything than what it was.
“You better tie up your pointe shoes. I think I hear the opening to Swan Lake,” he drawled.
The man choked on a laugh, and it was clear not many people talked to Alanna Colton that way, but he didn’t give a damn. There was a small part of him that felt a bit of the ego bruise she’d apparently landed. The rest of him was just much too turned on by this fascinating, contrary woman who ran this stable like a well-oiled machine. He was damned impressed on many levels.
Too bad he was here to delve into her motivations and reasons for possibly masterminding the kidnapping of her own father. Was this slip of a woman capable of that? She was a Colton, so he would have to say yes, but did he feel it in his gut? He wasn’t quite sure that was accurate. Snap judgments were something he’d honed over his time in law enforcement. Alanna discombobulated him.
She folded her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes. He reached out his hand, “Mr. Tressler?”
“Yep, that’s me.” His handshake was firm and quick.
“Jake McCord. The horse whisperer,” he said, and got the expected reaction from Alanna when she stiffened and huffed out a breath. “I’d like to get acquainted with Zorro if that’s convenient for you right now.”
“I’m free—”
“Just a minute,” Alanna interrupted and turned to her foreman. “I need to have a word with Mr. McCord.”
Buck gave him a sympathetic look and said, “I’ll be right outside when you’re ready.” It looked as if Buck thought Jake might be a mite sore after getting his hide stripped by Alanna.
Jake faced the pretty, agitated blonde and waited. She dropped her arms and her fists clenched. “I don’t believe you can tame that horse with magic and moonbeams, Mr. McCord. Just so you know I have no compunction telling you straight to your face.” He went to speak, and she held up her hand. “I believe he’s ruined, unpredictable and dangerous and even a rugged cowboy, all hopped up on his sage wisdom, can’t pull off a save. That’s my honest opinion.”
“I had no doubt you are an outspoken woman, Ms. Colton. I will do my damnedest to show you that I don’t doctor up my résumé or my reputation. Pretty much what you see is what you get. No subterfuge.” He realized he was here undercover, but he was being completely straightforward about who he was. What she saw was what she got.
“My brother might have hired you, Mr. McCord, but I run the stables, and I don’t go for all that horse-whispering mumbo jumbo or your sense of humor.”
He cocked his hip and set his hands on his belt buckle. “There’s a saying that you can’t step into the same river twice. Once you step in, you alter it, you affect its flow, you transform the soil and water mixture, and you make a mark. It’s a changed river. When I’m finished with Zorro, he won’t be the same horse he was when I got here. I’ll guarantee that, Ms. Colton.”
He leaned in. He couldn’t help it. She was so attractive when she was setting her boundaries. Tangling with her was more dangerous than French-kissing a rattlesnake. He should heed his instinct, but it wasn’t in his nature to back down, even though it was in his best interests. Getting attached in any way to a suspect was asking for trouble and getting mired in emotions was certainly not something he needed to add to his already burned-out attitude. She was...refreshing, though, and it was his job to get close to her. Get her to reveal any secrets she might be storing in that pretty head of hers. Getting just close enough, but not too close was his game plan. A little wooing was necessary and he was finding it more enjoyable than he’d planned. “I take your meaning, but my sense of humor might grow on you. And, Ms. Colton, I do all kinds of whisperin’ and reckon it works like a charm, no complaints so far. Let me know if you...” his voice dropped an octave “...need any samplin’.”
He turned on his heel and left her standing there with her mouth open. With each step he felt buoyant, not that he wanted to; he couldn’t seem to help himself.
When he cleared the doors and stepped back out into the sunlight, it was going on seven thirty. “Your hide looks intact, and you’re walking pretty good there, cowboy.”
“This ain’t my first rodeo,” Jake said and grinned.
“Yeah, it takes a strong man to stand up to that lady. Hats off to you.”
“Let me take a look at this devil horse and see what we’ve got.”
“I’m with Miss Colton on this.” He started walking over to a two-seater golf cart. Jake looked at it skeptically and Buck grinned, his demeanor open and warm. “Not exactly what cowboys normally ride around on, but this is a big area and it’s fast transportation. I’ll give you the breakdown as we go.”
“Fair enough.” Jake slid into the seat and Buck started up the engine.
Buck settled his hat tighter to his head. “You also think Zorro is a lost cause?” Jake asked as the foreman put the little vehicle in gear.
“Yes, I’m afraid so. I’ve been riding and ranching all my life. I’ve never seen such a rogue horse. He belongs in the wild with his own herd. Gelding him would be the other choice, but I don’t think he’ll ever be a top-notch cutter or agreeable barrel racer. Fowler is adamant the horse would enhance our bloodlines, and I disagree. He’s got everything else going for him conformationwise. No doubt. But breeding a horse with that disposition seems like a disaster in the making.”
“I haven’t met Mr. Colton yet. I hear he’s not a tolerant sort.”
Buck chuckled. “Fowler Colton doesn’t
