Emilie Rose - Her Tycoon to Tame

“If you stay, you’ll end up getting in the way or getting hurt.”

“I worked on a thoroughbred farm from the time I was fourteen until I went to college. But don’t unload that horse. It needs to go back to wherever it came from.”

Her expression turned belligerent. “That’s not an option—a fact the police will confirm if you pick up the phone and ask for Officer—”

“Harris,” the veterinarian supplied when Hannah arched an eyebrow.

Her continued defiance rasped against Wyatt’s last nerve. “I don’t want that animal on this property.”

Hannah descended the ramp and didn’t stop until they were toe-to-toe, chest to chest—so close he could taste the mint on her breath and feel the heat steaming from her rain-dampened clothing.

He fought to keep his attention from the way her white polo shirt had turned almost transparent. Fought and failed. The wet fabric clung to her hard-nippled breasts and outlined her thin white bra. His hormones reacted the way a healthy man’s would and, try as he might, he could not control the sudden increase in his pulse rate.

“Mr. Jacobs, Wyatt , if you feel the same way after I’ve examined her, we’ll discuss other arrangements. But for now, please step aside, and let me do my job.”

“I thought you were the breeding specialist.”

“I only work a half day on Saturdays. In my off hours I wear a different hat.”

“Have you forgotten who pays your salary?”

“You’re not likely to let that happen. Give me an hour to examine the mare and see what we’re dealing with. This could be a matter of life and death. I’m not ready to take a life without just cause. Are you?”

“Are you always so melodramatic?”

“Hardly ever,” she answered deadpan.

Her determination impressed him. “Make it quick.”

“Thank you.” She returned to the trailer, apparently undaunted by the agitated creature’s dancing.

Under her direction the trio coaxed the horse down the ramp in fits and spurts. The mare’s hesitant steps alternated with nervous hops and skips, then in a sudden backward lunge the horse launched from the trailer kicking up a spray of shavings. Once the dust settled the wild-eyed animal quivered in the hall, its terror-widened eyes taking in the scene.

Then Wyatt saw what the shadowy trailer had concealed. Open sores and scars crisscrossed the emaciated back, haunches and muzzle. Bloody rings circled the mare’s back legs just above the hooves.

She’d been abused. His gut muscles seized and rage blazed within him. “Who did this?”

The vet shook his head without taking his eyes from the animal. “Mean SOB who owned her. I hope the cops give him a taste of his own medicine. A billy club upside his head would be a nice touch.”

Hannah handed the lead rope to Jeb then eased around the horse without ever lifting her palm from the animal’s dull, scarred hide. Wyatt recognized the trick as one Sam had employed. By never losing contact, the horse always knew where you were and wouldn’t be startled.

“You know animal abusers get a slap on the wrist at best, Will.” Her frustration came through loud and clear even though she kept her tone low and even. “She doesn’t look good.”

“Nope. Not much to work with,” the vet replied. “She wouldn’t have lasted another week in that hellhole.”

Wyatt focused on the deep gouges and bloody fetlocks. Now that the fight had drained out of the mare her head hung low as if she were resigned to whatever came next and fighting took more energy than she possessed. She’d probably been a beauty once, but now she was nothing more than a broken shell. She looked ready to collapse. Her spirit seemed broken, her usefulness in doubt.

Like Sam .

The parallel was so strong it blindsided Wyatt. He hated to see anything or anyone turned into a victim trapped in a body that could no longer function or fight back. He turned to the vet who’d brought the animal. “You should have put her down.”

“Maybe. That’s Hannah’s call now.”

“Why prolong her misery? Ending her suffering would be more humane.”

Hannah bristled, agitating the mare into a side step. “Just because the owner is worthless doesn’t mean the animal is. Every life has value, including hers. Her teeth indicate she’s less than ten years old. There could be a lot of good years in her yet.”

“She’s debilitated, terrified and in pain,” Wyatt countered, his fists curling in frustration.

“If anyone can pull her through, Hannah can,” the vet said.

A muscle jumped in Wyatt’s jaw. The horse had been through hell, and someone had to find the compassion and make the executive decision to end her suffering. That someone was him, apparently.

“She’s probably disease-ridden and could infect the other horses. And after being abused this severely, her trust in man has likely been irrevocably broken.”

Hannah planted herself between Wyatt and the mare. She didn’t look like a spoiled daddy’s girl now. She resembled a mama grizzly passionately defending her cub. “You can’t write her off without giving her a chance.”

Her stormy gaze hit Wyatt with a fireball of pain, anger and frustration, the same emotions rumbling through him. The fight in her eyes would cause a lesser man to back down.

“Giving horses second chances is what I do, Wyatt. And if you’d done your research on the farm before you tossed around your money, you would realize it’s what you do now, too.”

Wyatt stiffened as the barb hit home. He couldn’t argue with facts. He’d delegated his research. The agent’s report hadn’t included anything about Sutherland Farm being a dumping ground for damaged animals, or Hannah Sutherland, who was going to make damned sure he paid for delegating.

“That right rear leg could be broken.”

Hannah didn’t even glance at it. “It’s cut deep from the hobbles. It looks like the brute bound her back legs so she couldn’t defend herself when he beat her. But from the way she’s bearing weight on it, it’s most likely superficial. I’ll run X-rays to confirm.”

“You mean you’ll run up expenses on a lost cause.”

She glared at him. “This isn’t about money. Find Your Center saves lives. It doesn’t destroy them unnecessarily.”

“What in the hell is Find Your Center?”

Irritation darkened her eyes to storm cloud gray and tightened the tendons running the length of her neck as she stuck out her chin, making the diamonds in her ears sparkle in the barn’s overhead lighting. If she’d been a guy, she probably would have punched him.

“Illustrating once again, Mr. Jacobs, you should have done your homework before your underhanded purchase.”

“There was nothing devious about my purchasing this farm. It was for sale. I bought it.”

She visibly reined in her temper, taking a deep breath then relaxing her tense muscles. “Sutherland Farm specializes in birth and rebirth.”

A bird swooped through the open barn door. The horse spooked and jumped sideways, its haunches knocking into Hannah. She stumbled. Wyatt instinctively sprang forward to catch her. His muscles bunched as he banded his arms around her and braced his thighs to keep them both from going down under the ragged, dancing hooves.

Her feet tangled with his as she scrambled for traction and shifted against him in ways that made him excruciatingly aware of the surprising firmness and strength beneath her curves.

“Are you all right?” he asked through a knotted jaw.

Her wary gaze locked with his. Her cheeks flushed and her lips parted. His pulse spiked and heat flooded him, proving he shared something he wanted no part of with the pampered princess.

Chemistry.

“I’m fine. Thank you. Release me. Please.” She planted her palms on his chest and pushed, broke his hold and backed away. Keeping an equally watchful eye on him, she circled to the opposite side of the horse.

“I’m sorry, Hannah,” Jeb said. “I have her now.”

“It’s okay, Jeb. My mistake,” she offered. “I know better than to turn my back on an unfamiliar animal.”

She flashed a brief look at Wyatt as if he were the animal in question, then she bent to reexamine the mare’s fetlock the way she’d done everything this morning—with a methodical thoroughness and attention to detail that had frustrated him in the lab because he’d suspected her of deliberately stalling as she checked and rechecked each sample and then meticulously packaged and charted each vial. Slow and steady was very likely her modus operandi and not just a passive-aggressive ploy to get under his skin.

She finally stepped away from the mare and, ignoring Wyatt, approached the vet, who’d been watching Wyatt as much as he had the horse. “I’ll keep her.”

“She could jeopardize the safety of the other horses,” Wyatt objected.

“She’ll be quarantined until the test results come back.”

The vet nodded. “Thanks, Hannah. I’ll take care of the legalities. Can you send me the pictures documenting the abuse ASAP? I took some video with my cell phone and shot that off to the authorities. But detailed still shots will help our case.”

“I’ll get photos before and after I clean and treat her wounds, and I’ll email those and the lab results to you as soon as I’m done.”

Wyatt didn’t like the way this was playing out. “The mare’s suffering should end. Put her down. I’ll cover the cost.”

Hannah gripped Wyatt’s forearm. Her touch burned through his sleeve like tongues of fire. Heat licked up his limb and settled in his torso.

“If you don’t care about the mare, let me put it another way. To stand any chance of making the bastard who did this pay for his heinous crimes and to keep him from hurting another animal, we’ll need documentation. Not only was this mare beaten and malnourished, she was obviously living in filth. The judge has to see what a sadist her owner is or the jerk might be allowed to own and torture other animals. No creature deserves to live or die in those conditions. Please, Wyatt, let me do this for her.”

When she put it like that how could he refuse? Reports of abuse and neglect had been the top reasons he’d refused to put Sam in a facility. The mare, like Sam, deserved to be treated with dignity.

Her movements slow and deliberate, Hannah approached the mare and smoothed a hand down the white blaze. The horse shied away, tossing her head and almost knocking Hannah over, but the stupid woman wouldn’t quit. She kept sweet-talking and caressing until the horse tolerated her touch.

“Look at that face. She deserves a second chance, don’t you, girl?” Hannah’s eyes, soft and wide, beseeched him. “Give me two weeks. Unless she tests positive for something I can’t cure, I’ll prove to you, and to her, that she deserves a better life. When I’m done she’ll be healthier so someone else might be willing to foster her. Worst-case scenario, her final days will be good ones. She’ll be warm and clean and well-fed.”

Wyatt couldn’t care less about Hannah’s bedroom-soft purr or the horse’s face. He didn’t believe for one minute this spoiled rich girl had what it took to bring the mare back from near-death, but her point about final days got to him. That’s why he’d bought the farm for Sam.

“Two weeks. You pay for the costs, and no heroic measures.”

Relief softened Hannah’s expression. “Wait and see the miracles a little TLC can create.”

“I don’t believe in miracles.”

She shrugged. “Your loss. They happen every day.”

“That’s Pollyanna garbage.”