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Aidan: Loyal Cowboy
He shook his head. “I’ll catch up with you later.”
He traveled the connecting corridor to Midnight’s stall, observing the horse for several long moments. Midnight observed Ace in return, the same intelligent look in his eyes Ace had witnessed that day at the auction.
“You’re going to have to do better next time,” he said, realizing he wasn’t ready to sell the horse.
Midnight lowered his head to the stall floor and blew lustily, shooting a cloud of the dry bedding into the air.
Stallions were typically a handful, but they could be taught manners. Midnight needed to learn some, or relearn them in his case.
“What happened to you after Wally got sick?”
Midnight snorted and stared inquisitively at Ace, all traces of fight and flightiness gone.
Was being bred to Miss Kitty or something else responsible for the difference?
An idea came to Ace. He jumped into his Polaris and drove to his office at the clinic. There, he made a phone call to Wally Dunlap’s son, glad to reach the man on his first attempt, and identified himself as the new owner of Midnight.
“Can you tell me something about him?” he asked.
“Like what?”
“His history. Any problems. His care and routine.”
“I’ll try. I wasn’t very involved in Dad’s business.”
“Did your father pasture Midnight with other horses or in separate quarters?”
“Both, I think. He had a system. Might have had to do with the season. Sometimes Midnight was in the pasture with other horses, sometimes by himself.”
“Were the horses mares?”
“Could have been. Though, honestly, I don’t remember Midnight being all that aggressive with geldings or other stallions, unless there was a mare in heat. Even then, he was able to be restrained. Dad couldn’t have competed him in rodeos otherwise.”
What Wally’s son said was true.
“About the livestock foreman you hired, did he keep to your dad’s system?”
“No. He said he preferred to house studs away from the other horses.”
Ace asked the man a number of additional questions before thanking him and disconnecting.
He found his mother in her office on the opposite side of the barn.
“You going to be home for dinner tonight?” She closed the ledger she’d been reading and shut off her computer. “I’m making chili and corn bread.”
“That’s an offer I can’t refuse.”
“It’ll be ready in a couple hours. How’s Miss Kitty?”
“No worse for the wear.” He sat in her visitor chair. “I spoke to Wally Dunlap’s son just now.”
“You called him?”
“I wanted information. I’m thinking of putting Midnight in the pasture with a few mares.”
She drew back in surprise. “Is that wise?”
“According to Wally’s son, Midnight got along with other horses and was regularly put to pasture with them.” Ace summarized his phone conversation. “I think it’s worth a try.”
“When are you going to test your theory?”
“This afternoon. He’s as calm as I’ve ever seen him.”
“And if he hurts the mares like he did Miss Kitty?”
“We’ll have him on a twenty-four-hour watch.”
“You can’t stay up all night.”
“Gracie, Harlan and Royce will help. We’ll take turns.”
His mother smiled. “I’m glad you’re not giving up on him. Or yourself.”
“I still believe Midnight’s the right horse for us to build our breeding business.”
“That kind of tenacity will win over Flynn.”
“You think?”
Her smile widened. “I’m counting on it.”
So was Ace.
* * *
“HE’S A BRAND-NEW HORSE!” Gracie grinned exuberantly.
“I wouldn’t go that far.” Ace downplayed his excitement, which exceeded Gracie’s. He didn’t want to get ahead of himself only to be disappointed.
They’d pastured Midnight with the mares nearly a full twenty-four hours ago and, so far, it was going well. Really well.
“You have to admit,” Gracie insisted, “beauty soothes the savage beast.”
“Midnight clearly likes the ladies.”
He reminded Ace more of a besotted puppy than a beast, following the mares around and pleading for their attention. What had happened to the fiery stallion from yesterday?
Ace had carefully selected the six mares he’d put with Midnight. All but one were from Wally Dunlap’s string. At the last minute, Ace decided to include Fancy Gal. She possessed a solid, dependable temperament he hoped would rub off on Midnight.
One of the mares gave Midnight a little warning kick.
“I bet she won’t be so standoffish next week,” Gracie observed.
Probably not. Mares’ cycles often accelerated when they were in the vicinity of a stallion.
“We need to diligently monitor them,” Ace said. “If Midnight shows the least sign of aggression, I want him moved straightaway.”
“I’m betting that won’t happen.”
Ace tended to agree. Right now, Midnight looked ready to roll over and have his tummy scratched.
“You came up with a good idea, boss.”
“I don’t know about that. Pasture breeding works fine for our mares. Any potential clients will want their mares hand bred.”
Or inseminated artificially, but Ace was determined to worry about one obstacle at a time. Today, that was modifying Midnight’s behavior enough to ensure a decent crop of foals next spring. Breeding season in Montana lasted only until the end of June. They either saw immediate progress or made the difficult decision to sell Midnight while there was still time to acquire another stud.
A few of the more friendly mares meandered over to the fence for the homemade horse treats Ace had gotten from Angie Barrington’s horse rescue. He and Gracie willingly obliged them.
“Have you decided which of the livestock to take to the Torrington Rodeo?”
“True Grit, definitely, and I’d like to try Razorback. He’s showing a lot of potential.”
For the next several minutes, Ace and Gracie talked shop.
“I’d better see how that mechanic’s coming along,” Gracie said. “He promised to have the tractor repaired before the evening feeding.” She sped off in one of the ranch’s numerous ATVs.
The horses, startled by the noise, galloped away, stopping just as abruptly at the fence to nibble on lush green grass. All except for Midnight. He’d set his sights on Fancy Gal, perhaps because she was new.
“You like ’em a little older, huh?” Ace chuckled to himself as the stallion put on a show, prancing in circles around the mare, giving her affectionate nuzzles and nips on the neck and rump.
She took it all in stride, mostly ignoring him—which only encouraged him to try harder.
“She’s a tough one, boy. You might pick a different mare.”
There was no accounting for love, and Midnight had been hit hard. He continued courting Fancy Gal, to no avail.
Ace was about to leave when Fancy Gal suddenly displayed a change of heart. Nickering softly, she returned Midnight’s nuzzles.
“Well, I’ll be damned.”
The old girl wasn’t so tough after all.
When Ace finally left several minutes later, the two horses were standing side by side, head to tail, Midnight resting his chin on Fancy Gal’s hindquarters while she grazed unconcerned.
“Maybe I am a genius.” Pleased with himself, Ace climbed into the Polaris, feeling almost as good about Midnight as he did about the prospect of becoming a father.
His mood promptly dimmed. If only Flynn were as easy to sway as Fancy Gal.
He could use a little of Midnight’s luck when it came to the fairer sex.
Luck or persistence? Midnight was one determined fellow, and it had paid off.
Ace parked the Polaris outside his clinic, pushed back his cowboy hat and scratched his head.
All kidding aside, he could be on to something. The more Ace thought about it, the more convinced he became. He’d been wrong to jump the gun and propose to Flynn. Twice. She was understandably cautious after her unhappy marriage and painful divorce.
She was also understandably cautious after the way Ace had treated her. Any woman in her right mind would be.
What he needed to do was take a page from Midnight’s book and woo Flynn. Patiently and persistently. Practice that tenacity his mother had mentioned.
Removing his cell phone from his belt, he dialed Flynn’s number. She answered on the fourth ring. Had she been considering not taking his call?
“Hey, it’s Ace. Did I catch you at work?” He’d forgotten evenings were the best time to reach her.
“It’s all right, I’m on break.”
He noted the hint of reservation in her voice but didn’t let it deter him.
“I was wondering, are you free tomorrow evening?”
“What’s up?”
“Pizza and wings at the Brick Oven.” The restaurant was one of her favorites. “Unless you’d like to eat somewhere else?” A long pause followed. “Flynn? You still there?”
“Are you asking me on a date?”
“I am.”
“Is there something you want to discuss?”
“No, I just want to take you out to eat.”
“We’re not, um, romantically involved.”
They could be, if she gave them a chance.
“It’s dinner. Between two people who happen to be having a baby and working toward establishing a healthy, solid relationship.”
“I don’t know…”
“Come on. You have to admit, things have been tense between us lately. Enjoying a casual meal on neutral territory will do us good.”
Another longer pause followed. “O…kay.”
Ace was glad she couldn’t see the huge smile he wore. “What time are you off work?”
“Six.”
“Is seven too early?”
“Seven’s fine. But we can’t have pizza. Spicy food doesn’t sit well with me these days.”
“Where’d you like to go?”
“It’s beef Stroganoff night at the Number 1 Diner.”
The place where it all started. Interesting that she would choose it.
“Great. And I promise, nothing but food’s on the menu.”
No kissing, no sneaking into her bedroom, no incredible, mind-bending sex.
“I’m going to hold you to that,” she warned.
“See you tomorrow.”
He disconnected, his good mood restored. He had a dinner date with Flynn, and Midnight was settling in with his harem of mares.
Ace’s day couldn’t get any better.
Chapter Eight
The smell of impending rain struck Flynn the moment she stepped from Ace’s truck. She’d remembered a coat but forgotten an umbrella. Getting wet, however, was the least of her worries.
She and Ace were having dinner.
Not that they hadn’t eaten together before—when they’d dated, of course, and on occasions when she’d joined the Harts for birthdays and holidays.
Then there had been the night of their indiscretion. Hard to believe that was almost two months ago.
“It’s crowded,” Ace commented as they strolled across the parking lot to the diner’s front entrance.
“The beef Stroganoff special is always popular.”
The potpie special was also popular, which is what the restaurant had been serving the night Ace went home with her.
How in the world had that even happened?
She’d been on a date. Correction, was supposed to have been on a date. The guy had called at the last second, after she’d arrived at the diner to meet him, and canceled. Something about his clothes dryer malfunctioning. Seriously? She’d tried to convince herself she didn’t care. He wasn’t anyone important, she’d only agreed to go out with him because a mutual friend had set them up.
Rather than leave, Flynn had stayed and ordered dinner. To spite him, she supposed, and because she was hungry.
Ace had dropped by the diner on his way home from treating a yearling filly with a severe respiratory infection.
“Two tonight?” The hostess’s question startled Flynn, returning her to the present. “Follow me.” The woman grabbed two menus and escorted Flynn and Ace to a table that couldn’t possibly be any more out in the open.
She cringed inside as Ace pulled out her chair. Discreetly scanning the room, she counted three familiar faces, nodding in response to their smiles of recognition. It could be worse. At least none of the Hart ranch hands were there.
Why had she suggested this place? She’d have been better off with pizza and wings and a case of heartburn.
She fingered the edge of the menu as she studied it, which was ridiculous since she knew the offerings by heart.
“Evening, folks.” Their waitress, all of eighteen and cute as a button, flashed them a dimpled smile. “Can I get you something to drink?”
Ace waited for Flynn to order first.
“Umm…” Iced tea was out of the question, unfortunately. “Lemonade,” she said with a sigh.
“Same for me.”
“I thought you didn’t like lemonade that much.”
“Neither do you.”
“I’d have iced tea if caffeine wasn’t bad for the baby. No reason you can’t.”
“Lemonade’s fine.”
He was being sweet again, like at Thunder Creek when he’d proposed. She’d tell him that, except the last time hadn’t gone well.
He’d also been sweet two months ago when he’d spotted her sitting alone at a table not far from this one, come over and asked her what was wrong. Funny, Flynn thought she’d been doing an admirable job hiding her disappointment about being stood up. But Ace had always been good at reading people, her more than most.
He’d sat and told her the other guy’s loss was his gain, bought her dinner and regaled her with amusing stories of their errant childhood. By dinner’s end, Flynn was having so much fun she couldn’t even remember the guy’s name.
Later, outside, she and Ace had kissed. Spontaneously. Lightly, at first. Then, in the span of a single softly issued moan, everything changed.
She was the one who’d suggested they go to her place. Her father was having a night out with his cronies and wouldn’t be home until late. Ace had followed her in his truck. Flynn was convinced during the fifteen-minute drive that one or both of them would come to their senses. It didn’t happen.
If anything, the clandestine nature of their rendezvous added to the excitement. He’d parked his truck behind the barn, then met her at the kitchen door.
They couldn’t stumble down the hall to her bedroom fast enough.
“How’s work going?” Ace’s voice penetrated Flynn’s thoughts.
She blinked and set her menu down, acutely aware of the flush creeping up her neck and cheeks. She had to stop dwelling on that night. His touch. The tangled sheets strewn across his naked body.
“Fine. We’ve been busy this week. The flu seems to be going around.”
“You need to be careful you don’t get sick.”
“I’ll be okay. I don’t have too much patient contact.”
“As much as I hate the idea of you moving, I’d almost rather you were going to school than exposed to sick people all day.”
“There are probably just as many sick people on campus.”
“Sorry if I’m coming on too strong.”
“You’re…not.”
Turning away from his charmingly crooked smile was a lot harder tonight than it had been at Thunder Creek. There, the dim restaurant lighting wasn’t softening his features, reminding her of the younger Ace she’d fallen head over heels for.
They managed to make pleasant small talk for the remainder of the meal. Ace didn’t bring up the baby again, her moving to Billings or school. The closest he came was when he asked, “Has your dad had any offers on the ranch?”
“No, and he’s disappointed. A few people have come by, but they were more curious than anything else. The real estate agent keeps telling Dad it’s a difficult market these days.”
“I think more people are trying to sell their ranches than buy one.”
“Or they’re looking for a bargain. Dad’s pretty set on his price.”
“Did my mom call him about Sunday brunch at the house?”
“She did. I think it’s set for next weekend.”
The waitress appeared and removed their plates. “Can I interest you two in dessert? We have fresh-baked red velvet cake and key lime pie.”
“No, thanks. But don’t let me stop you,” Flynn added when Ace practically drooled at the mention of key lime pie.
“Do you mind?”
“Go on. And I’ll have a coffee. Decaffeinated, please.”
A rat-tat-tat sound started. Flynn and Ace simultaneously glanced at the ceiling.
“Guess the rain’s finally started,” the waitress said, and scurried off to bring their pie and coffee.
“I was hoping we might escape more foul weather,” Ace said. “I’m tired of mucking through soggy fields and getting my truck stuck in a wash.”
“It has been an awfully wet spring.”
Ace demolished his pie in four bites.
Flynn had no idea where he put it. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on him, while she ruthlessly watched every crumb of food she ate in order to maintain her size six figure.
Size pregnant, soon.
She should probably enjoy Ace’s appreciative glances while they lasted.
He supported her elbow as they left the restaurant. Considerate, without being pushy.
“You want my hat?” he offered.
They waited outside the front door, assessing the pouring rain.
“I won’t melt,” she said with a laugh.
“You wait here while I get the truck.”
He’d no sooner uttered the words when they heard a loud metallic crunch in the darkness to their right.
“What’s that?” Flynn asked, peering through the downpour at the headlights of a compact SUV.
Ace was already in motion, sprinting in the direction of the disabled vehicle.
She followed, holding the flaps of her coat closed around her as she jogged between puddles. Reaching the SUV, she found Ace bent over the open driver’s side window.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” He had to practically shout in order to be heard above the rain.
“I’m fine. Just embarrassed,” came a disembodied female voice.
The door opened and Sierra Byrne stepped out.
Flynn immediately recognized the owner of the diner. She and Sierra had taken exercise classes together off and on through the years.
“Hey, Sierra. Can I help?”
Within seconds, the rain had soaked the young woman. Flynn could feel the dampness penetrating her own coat and ignored the discomfort.
“It’s just a fender bender,” Sierra insisted. “I mean, I hope it’s a fender bender.”
They all three inspected the rear of her car, which sat a few inches from the parked minivan she’d hit. Between the darkness and the rain, it was impossible to discern the damage.
“Do you have a flashlight?” Ace asked Sierra.
“No.”
“I do. In my truck.” He was off before Sierra could stop him.
Flynn put her arm around Sierra’s waist. “You want us to take you to the clinic?”
“Really, I’m okay.”
“You’re shivering.”
“I’m mad at myself. I can’t believe I missed seeing that van.”
“It was an accident.”
Sierra’s gaze went to Ace. “I’m glad to see you with Ace. I always thought you two would make a perfect couple.”
Flynn felt her flush return, though how that was possible in the midst of a downpour, she wasn’t sure. “We’re not together. Not like that.”
“Too bad.”
“We’re having a baby.”
Where had that come from? Flynn had decided to keep the news to herself, Ace and their families until she’d reached her second trimester and figured out her plans.
“You are?” Sierra’s face brightened. “I’m so excited for you. Congratulations.”
They were hugging when Ace returned.
“Forget about me,” Sierra chided him. “You two go on and celebrate. Flynn told me about the baby,” she added when Ace looked confused.
He grinned broadly, like a proud papa. “Thanks. But I’m here, and I have my flashlight, so we might as well take a look.” He aimed the beam at Sierra’s SUV first, then the van. “Doesn’t appear too bad. A couple small dings in the bumpers is all. Easily fixed.”
“Darn it.” Sierra pouted. “Guess I’d better get back inside and find the owner. Give him my insurance information.”
“Want us to go with you?”
“Honestly.” She gave him and Flynn a small push. “Get out of here. You’re soaked.”
They were, and Flynn’s teeth were starting to chatter.
Ace hurried her along to his truck with a parting “Be careful” to Sierra.
Opening his passenger side door, he helped her in, then raced to his side. The rain continued to fall in torrents, making a thunderous noise as it pummeled the truck.
Ace started the engine and turned on the heater. “Better?” he asked when the air finally blew warm.
“A little.” Flynn’s teeth had yet to cease chattering.
“Take off your wet coat.” He was already shrugging out of his jacket. When he finished, he helped her with a sleeve that stubbornly clung to her clothing.
She laid the sopping coat across her lap, which only added to her misery.
“That’s not helping.” Ace deposited the coat in the back alongside his jacket. He’d yet to put the truck in reverse. “I’d offer you a blanket, but the only one I have is a saddle blanket and it’s covered in horse hair.”
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