* *
Devlin groaned as he watched the twins’ pony hightail it out of the front of the barn. For an animal that fat and lazy, Lollipops showed surprising speed now that he was free.
He’d turned his back on the beast for a split second while dropping hay into the corner manger of the pony’s stall, never expecting that Lollipops would move a muscle except to head toward his grain and hay. He’d seen the twins riding in the arena, trying to get the pony into a lope, and a truck with an empty gas tank moved faster.
Muttering under his breath, he grabbed a bucket of pellets, plus a halter and lead rope, and jogged outside to the parking area.
The pony was nowhere in sight.
Not by the pasture fence to the east of the barn, where a couple dozen broodmares close to their foaling dates could be seen standing slant-hipped around three round bale feeders, whiling away their time until being brought in for the night.
Not along the fence on the other side of the barn, where a dozen mares and their new foals were out on forty acres of pasture.
And not along the fence line perpendicular to the broodmare pasture, farther to the west, where a herd of heavily pregnant cows were lined up along the long feed bunk.
That meant the pony could be heading down the long gravel lane toward the highway, which would be a remarkably bad idea given the semitrucks that blew by a good twenty miles an hour over the speed limit. Or, if he’d thundered past the broodmare pasture, he might have turned into the dirt lane leading up to the summer range pastures. Though unlikely that he’d leave close proximity to the other horses, he could end up lost forever if he skirted the fences and kept going.
Devlin needed help, and Chloe was the last person he’d want to call, but she was also the only other person here. So be it. She could always say no. He reached for his phone—and realized he’d left it in his cabin when he’d gone back for some more Tylenol.
At the abrupt sound of the pup barking excitedly, Devlin heaved a sigh of relief and jogged up to the main house. Bingo.
Repeatedly jumping up against the chain-link fence surrounding the yard, Poofy wagged his tail furiously when Devlin came into view. Then he ran to the far corner and began barking anew, his attention fixed on the trail leading to the cabins.
Which wasn’t exactly good news, either.
The final cabin sat atop the hill, looking over a series of rising foothills that led up into the mountains and the unfenced government land that abutted a corner of the Langford ranch.
Devlin weighed the options of going back to saddle a horse, grabbing a four-wheeler from the machine shed or just continuing on foot to the top of the hill. His cabin overlooked a grassy meadow on the other side of the hill, already green with tender spring grass. Surely the greedy little beast wouldn’t go farther than that.
What on earth would he say to the girls if he’d lost their pony forever? Mountain lions, bears and even the occasional wolf were all possible out here. And all would consider a chubby, elderly pony easy prey.
He hesitated, then knocked on Chloe’s door, softly first, then louder. From inside he could hear a radio. Was she just ignoring him? Putting him in his place? Swallowing his pride for the sake of the twins and their beloved pony, he banged on the door louder.
No answer.
So be it. He headed back up the trail, hoping Lollipops didn’t prove to be too cagey for one person to catch.
Just past his cabin, Devlin shielded the sun from his eyes with his hand and muttered a rusty prayer as he searched the makeshift rifle range in the meadow and the surrounding timber. Nothing.
Wait...
At the far side of the meadow, something was rustling through the underbrush. A moment later the vagabond pony stepped out of the shadows with a slender figure at his side.
Chloe.
Relief and gratitude flooded through him. Thank you, Lord.
His boots sent pebbles skittering down the rocky slope as he descended the steep hill to meet them. Sunlight filtering through the pine branches turned the palomino pony’s coat to molten gold, and picked out the gold and ruby highlights of Chloe’s auburn hair. If he had any artistic abilities, he would’ve wanted to capture the beauty of the scene on canvas.
Her arrival at the ranch had been the last thing he’d expected. He’d resolved to keep his distance from her. But right now he couldn’t think of a more welcome sight.
“Looking for someone?” Chloe called out as they met in the middle of the grassy meadow. She was holding on to a narrow leather belt she’d buckled around the pony’s neck. “He was really trucking when he ran past my cabin, but he wasn’t hard to catch once I caught up with him.”
“Thanks, Chloe.”
“He melted at the sight of a carrot. I think he was having second thoughts about missing his dinner.”
“From the looks of him, he hasn’t missed many.” Devlin slipped the halter onto him and gave Chloe her belt back. “I owe you one. You’ve made the twins very happy.”
She said something he couldn’t hear, so he looked over at her to watch her lips as she spoke. “What?”
“Who is this little guy, by the way?” she repeated.
Dev started leading the pony toward home, with Chloe on his other side. Only then did he notice two remaining carrots still sticking up from the back pocket of her jeans. “His name is Lollipops.”
She laughed. “I’ll have to say, those girls are certainly original.”
At the top of the hill, Devlin stopped in front of his cabin. “Hang on to him a minute, would you? I need to grab my cell phone.”
When he came out with his phone, Chloe was cradling the pony’s head in the crook of her arm, his thick, long white mane flowing over her arm like a waterfall. The tender pose and the soft glow of her beautiful complexion nudged at his heart, and once again he wished he could capture the scene with oils or watercolors.
“So, is this where you live?” she asked, staring up at the dilapidated cabin. “In that?”
He nodded. “For now.”
“It looks...rustic,” she said tactfully. “Is it better inside?”
He snorted. “Nope.”
“If I hadn’t shown up, then you’d be in the nicer cabin, right?” She bit her lower lip. “I’m sorry—though not quite sorry enough to switch. This one is scary.”
After some of the places he’d been in the Middle East, it was a palace. “It’ll do.”
“I could break down that door with a sneeze. Does it even lock?”
“Not yet.”
She raised her gaze to the mossy, swaybacked roof. “And does it leak?”
“I’m
