She knew there was something haunting about that horse.
Her hands trembled and her eyes widened as her mouth opened in a silent plea.
But it was too late.
CHAPTER 9
“Vinny,” Marshall warned, seeing the stricken look on his accountant’s face.
Fuck, she had come here to clean up his finances and get the ranch back on track. Now, he was scaring her half to death. This wasn’t supposed to be a survival challenge. He gripped Colette as the huge horse butted his head on her shoulder and sniffed her hair.
Colette was frozen, petrified. All she could do was move her eyes to see the giant black face tapping her shoulder. Marshall rolled his eyes.
The horse wanted attention. But she didn’t know that. He moved to put himself between Vinny and Colette, but the damage seemed to have been done. Behind him, she gripped his shoulders and buried her face in his back. His horse was a menace. Vinny the devil.
Right.Vinny followed him wherever he went when he was loose, waiting for crumbs of attention. If he didn’t get them, he would seek them out. As he was doing right now.
“Colette, he wants you to pet him,” Marshall said softly, taking one of her hands in his and bringing her around halfway. Holding her small, trembling hand in his, they pet Vinny’s silkennose. The horse huffed a hot breath, coming closer to Marshall. Colette stepped back, wary.
“He’s not so bad,” she admitted. Her rapid breaths were slowing behind him. “He justlookslike the horse of my nightmares.”
Marshall snorted. “In a way, he is. He needs way more attention than any of my other horses. It can be exhausting.”
Peeking over his shoulder, Marshall sensed a change and caught a glimpse of her face. Rosy cheeks, blue eyes bright, and a soft smile teasing at her lips. His breath caught and he turned back to Vinny, grateful for the distraction.
Taking him by the reins, he led Vinny back to tie him to the fence, hoping Colette would follow.
“I’ll get Mocha,” he said gruffly, wiping a hand over his beard.
“Don’t,” she said, resting a hand on his shoulder. “I want to ride with you.”
Marshall swallowed. He didn’t make a habit of riding two people on one horse, but this was just a quick tour. He could change to a bigger saddle and add a blanket to make the animal comfortable.
Vinny was his biggest and strongest horse. He could handle the extra burden, especially when it was the size of Colette Slip. Instead of tying up the horse, he walked him back into the barn, praying that Colette wouldn’t run away from where he had left her. He adjusted Vinny’s straps and blankets to ensure the horse would be content. The ride would be kept short—just long enough to show her what they were working for and to point out the areas he’d mentioned when they discussed the different parts of the ranch. No big deal. The horse would be fine.
Marshall hoped he would be too.
Being pressed against Colette for any amount of time seemed like…a lot.
As he approached her, he noticed she had taken off her jacket and hung it on a fence post. She must have warmed up. His mouth flattened as he took in her thick pink cardigan buttoned up to her neck with yet another frilly blouse collar poking out. If he were a weak man, seeing her like this would have been his undoing. The way the fluffy wool of her sweater clung to her was more tempting than any display of cleavage could ever be. Today she had listened to his advice and worn something farm appropriate: jeans.
Marshall was full of regrets.
He should have never told her to wear jeans. They were medium blue and hugged her curvy hips perfectly, narrowing at the ankles. If he were a weak man, he would be thinking of running a hand along the soft, rounded part of her hip and cupping the curve of her ass.
Luckily, he was made of steel and would do no such thing. Excessively forward, as usual, Vinny broke the spell by shoving his face in between them. Reaching a hand to grab the bridle, Marshall’s heart lightened when Colette reached out a tentative hand and stroked the horse’s nose without hesitation. Vinny snorted in her palm, greedily seeking more.
“See? He’s a big softie,” Marshall said, placing Vinny near a stand that was used for mounting horses by ranch visitors and clients. “Climb up.”
“How?” she said, uncertain.
“Get on this step here. Good,” he explained. “Now, place your foot in the stirrup. There. Swing your leg over his back and get your foot in the other stirrup.”
Colette uttered a trembling breath and followed his instructions. Beaming with pride as she successfully seated herself on the horse, she adjusted herself on the saddle. A strange emotion bubbled inside him, a sort of pride that she had faced her fear and that he had been the one to witness it.
Just like he would feel with any other person he was helping.
“Come on, Marshall,” she encouraged.
