“Well, no.”
She tapped her pinkie against her cheek. “How many ranches have you been to, Kyle?”
“Counting this one?” He grinned. He couldn’t help it. “I’d say about…this one.” He nodded.
Arden raised her eyebrows and let out the cutest little snort. “All right then, let me show you around, ranch hand.” She stood up and looked down at Camo. “And this time, you’re coming out with us, buster.”
* * *
Kyle spent the rest of the afternoon learning just how freakin’ hard Arden worked. Her day consisted of neverending rounds of checking on the animals, feeding them, making sure they were safe from predators, including an opportunistic fox and a couple of raccoons—though she said Camo was a big help with that. She insisted that she had help most of the time, that normally the horse owners came once, sometimes twice a day, she had a list of volunteers in the spring, summer, and fall, and that the animal therapeutic program she ran included more than just treating the ranch like a petting zoo.
As they were spreading fresh hay for the horses, she said, “The folks who come here are often treated out there like they’re broken or useless, or both. When they get to actively participate in caring for something that doesn’t judge them, that appreciates and depends on them, it tells them that they’re important, that they aren’t helpless, or to be pitied.” She gripped her pitchfork like a trident as she looked at him, and those gray eyes burned. “They matter, just as much as anyone else. Just the way they are.”
She blinked rapidly as if realizing who she was talking to and looked away with a laugh. “Sorry, I get a little preachy sometimes.”
Damn. Never thought preachy could be sexy, but this is definitely doing it for me. Goddamn, that fire, that passion. He thought of all the ways it could be put to good use and was glad he was back in his jeans instead of a pair of sweats that left nothing to the imagination. No, she wouldn’t be sweating out her passion beneath him, her legs wrapped around his torso. Instead, she’d put that fire to use keeping Kyle and Camo separated. He had to focus on his mission and spend the rest of the week getting her through the holiday and convincing her that she was making a mistake trying to keep the dog. Damn her brother for abandoning her at Christmas. Anger flared at the thought.Just keep telling yourself it’s because that makes your job harder, not because you feel bad for Arden. Eyes on the prize.
The problem was, he kept forgetting he could walk away with only one prize.
“Preachy is okay when it’s backed with faith like yours. It’s refreshing to see someone love what they do so much.”
She pitched another forkful of hay before looking back over her shoulder at him. “Youdoget it, don’t you?” she said, wonder in her voice. “But of course you would, wouldn’t you?” Her voice held something else, something sad. Was she pitying him? Was that indeed what he saw in her eyes the night before as he greeted Camo? Could she see into his soul, and did she think of him as broken?
“What do you mean?” he asked as he went back to work. He tried to keep his voice light and non-accusatory. “Why do you think I understand?”
She shrugged. “Well, that’s pretty obvious.”
She does pity me. Just to confirm, he asked, “What sort of people come here for therapy?”
“Oh, all sorts. Some with physical handicaps. Others who are neurodivergent.”
“What’s that?”
She moved on to the next stall where a brown horse with a white star on his forehead came forward and nuzzled her. “You don’t get your apple quite yet, mister,” she scolded before continuing. “People on the autistic spectrum, people with Downs or ADHD or bipolar disorder. Depression. PTSD.”
Did she just give me the side-eye? Well, that would confirm it—she pities me. He took a deep breath, held it, and breathed out.
“Something wrong?” Arden leaned the pitchfork against the stall.
Kyle lifted his eyebrows and forced a grin. “Nope, nothing at all.”
“You sure?”
“Affirmative.” It was his turn to look away before those steely grays could dissect him any further. “We done in here?”
She let a beat pass before saying, “No, not quite. You may want to hang on to Camo though, or better yet, take him inside.” She walked over to the oversized tote she’d grabbed on their way out the door.
“Why’s that?”
She pulled out a flat round can and held it up. “The horses aren’t the only ones who live in the barn.” He looked closer—cat food.
“Seriously? There’s a cat in here?” Kyle looked around as if one would suddenly jump out of the shadows.
Arden grinned. “Acat? Try so many cats I’ve lost count.”
“Where?”
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t you know? Cats can open up other dimensions and hide in them.” She winked. “Especially when there’s a big old SEAL doggie running around. You haven’t seen him sniffing every corner?”
