* * *
At the stable, per Wes’s request, Ellie grabbed a helmet and goggles. She walked the line of stalls and stopped in front of one holding a palomino Belgian cross gelding. His brown coat and blond mane reminded her of Wes. “They don’t have names,” she observed.
“The invoice has their names from the previous owners. I kinda thought we could rename them to suit their personality.” Wes patted the horse’s muzzle.
Eleanor giggled. “That’s going to be fun.”
He introduced her to his horse, Alamo’s Pal.
“Tell me why you chose Alamo’s Pal?”
“When I served in the Navy as a special operator, I earned the nickname Alamo.”
“Davy Crockett.” She looked at him. “Didn’t he die at the Alamo?”
Wes laughed. “He did. I earned it when my team was sent into a mess. An Army squad was badly injured. Retrieving them from a boxed fortress, I was shot. My heart stopped twice.”
“Oh my gosh.”
He held up his hands. “I’m fine, really.”
Wes saddled Alamo’s Pal with a double saddle. When he lifted his head and met her glance, Eleanor’s cheeks turned pink. He mounted and leaned down to help lift her in front of him. “Ready?”
“Pete’s gonna be mad.”
“You’re wearing your glasses with goggles and a helmet. And I have you.” He held the reins in one hand and wrapped his other arm around her.
The horse walked toward the pasture’s edge, and with a squeeze of his thighs and a tuck of his pelvis, he urged the large animal forward. A gust of wind blew, and Alamo’s Pal’s ears perked up. He moved through his gaits until a full gallop. Wes pulled back on the reins, bringing him down to a walk.
“It appears he’s showing off for you.” Wes pressed his cheek against hers so she could hear him.
When Eleanor patted the horse’s neck, he brayed. “You’re a cutie.”
Wes chuckled. “C’mon, I’ll show you my favorite spot.”
He headed south on the property. On their way to the pond, they passed a deserted cabin. “Whoa.” He pulled to a stop. “Do you mind if we stop here for a minute? I haven’t had a chance to look at this one. And there are four others too. I am so far behind.”
“Don’t beat yourself up. Take your time.” She shuddered. The cabin triggered a glimpse of a memory.
He crunched his brows. “Are you warm enough, Ellie?”
“I’m good.” A strained smile turned up her lips.
Wes dismounted and wrapped Alamo’s Pal’s reins around a small tree. “Don’t go anywhere.” He walked around the entire building before trying to get inside.
The door opened without any effort, and Eleanor watched him go inside. Upon his exit, she asked, “Anything interesting?”
Wes smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “No.”
Eleanor rested against Wes’s broad chest for the rest of the ride, including a view of the pond. “If you put a rail plus a table and chairs here, it might be a positive addition to the program,” she pointed out.
His arm wrapped tighter around her. “You’re amazing me. Your mind never stops turning, does it?”
She could barely concentrate…the strength of his embrace and his kind words were intoxicating.You’re projecting. It’s a fantasy.
He headed back to the stables. As Wes dismounted, his phone rang. “Hey, Chris, what’s up?” He tapped the speaker and helped Eleanor down. “We’re on an open line.”
“Mrs. Chase is having Pete Feng Shui the clinic. I’d make myself scarce. And, um, I hate to remind you, but you are on the schedule tomorrow for your requalification test. Do you want me to move you to another day?”
