took his first real
taste of Haley Kilpatrick’s sweet mouth.
Lemon drops and sweet Texas sunshine, that’s what she tasted
like. He deepened the kiss, his tongue tangling with hers in a mating dance as
old as time. Her hands slid up his chest, speared through his hair, and his
cock stood to attention. More than anything, Wyatt wanted to drop his hands to
her perfectly rounded bottom and haul her against him, let her feel how much he
wanted her.
Behind them some fool cleared his throat. Had to be Dooley,
who should damn well know better.
Wyatt released her, stepped back and cleared his own throat
before turning to face Haley’s foreman. He figured his face was probably as red
as Haley’s, caught as they were in the act.
Dooley swiped his hat off his head and nodded. “Sorry.” At
least he had the sense to give his boss a sheepish smile. “I was just wondering
if you wanted me to unload the stock.”
“Thank you, Dooley. I expect they’d like to get outta
there.” She sidestepped Wyatt and the three of them headed for the back of the
trailer. “They’re bound to be hungry. My brother sold most of the grain and
hay, probably for beer money, so I got no idea how long it’s been since they’ve
eaten. And their feet are a mess from standing in filthy stalls.”
Dooley’s mouth compressed in anger when he unloaded their
first mare. “Shee-it. White line disease. Thrush too but that ain’t no
surprise. Gonna need to doctor them and get some pads. What the hell’s wrong
with that brother of yours? You can practically count their ribs.”
Haley snorted. “Been asking myself that question for years.”
“If he was too lazy to feed them, least he could do was put
them to pasture.”
“You’d think so, wouldn’t ya?” She unloaded the next mare.
“Truth is, Dooley, the boy couldn’t pour piss out of a boot if there was
directions on the heel. Should have known better than to think he’d take care
of the stock while I was gone.”
Wyatt unloaded the third mare and followed them to a large,
overgrown paddock. The grass was a good nine inches tall and the mare smelled
it, prancing anxiously beside him. He swore under his breath. Had the horses
eaten at all in the weeks Haley had been gone?
Dooley released his charge and hurried back for the last
horse. He and Haley unhooked the leads from the halters and the animals
immediately tucked into the sweet Texas grass. Haley shook her head and he
wrapped an arm around her shoulder and gave her a squeeze.
“They’re gonna be fine. I’ll call my vet, have him come out
and take a look at them.”
Haley nodded. “Thank you for taking me to get them. Jesus,
they could have starved to death.”
Dooley came back with the final mare and turned her loose.
“That boy should be horsewhipped.”
Wyatt laughed. “Haley took a quirt to him. Beat him like a
rented mule.”
Dooley tipped his hat back and grinned. “Is that right? I’d
give a month’s pay to see that.” He resettled his hat, opened the gate and
stepped through. “Reckon I’d best see what kind of damage the boy caused these
mares’ hooves.”
The damage wasn’t as bad as they’d feared. Three of the four
animals had bad cases of thrush, the fourth had the beginnings of white line
disease. Wyatt held onto the halter of a mare named Lolly while Haley trimmed
loose flaps of mushy tissue from around the frog, then scoured the hoof in an
iodine solution and patted it dry, repeating the process on all four hooves.
Next came a generous application of homemade sugardine that Dooley mixed up.
All four horses got the thrush treatment.
“Soon as that little sorrel’s thrush clears up some, we’ll
need to get pads on her.” Dooley took the sugardine from her and started
working on the sorrel, Fancy.
“Shit. You know a good ferrier?”
Dooley gave her a terse nod. “Emmet Gruber. His name should
be in Jack’s Rolodex. If you were to call him now, he could schedule it.”
Haley uttered a deep
taste of Haley Kilpatrick’s sweet mouth.
Lemon drops and sweet Texas sunshine, that’s what she tasted
like. He deepened the kiss, his tongue tangling with hers in a mating dance as
old as time. Her hands slid up his chest, speared through his hair, and his
cock stood to attention. More than anything, Wyatt wanted to drop his hands to
her perfectly rounded bottom and haul her against him, let her feel how much he
wanted her.
Behind them some fool cleared his throat. Had to be Dooley,
who should damn well know better.
Wyatt released her, stepped back and cleared his own throat
before turning to face Haley’s foreman. He figured his face was probably as red
as Haley’s, caught as they were in the act.
Dooley swiped his hat off his head and nodded. “Sorry.” At
least he had the sense to give his boss a sheepish smile. “I was just wondering
if you wanted me to unload the stock.”
“Thank you, Dooley. I expect they’d like to get outta
there.” She sidestepped Wyatt and the three of them headed for the back of the
trailer. “They’re bound to be hungry. My brother sold most of the grain and
hay, probably for beer money, so I got no idea how long it’s been since they’ve
eaten. And their feet are a mess from standing in filthy stalls.”
Dooley’s mouth compressed in anger when he unloaded their
first mare. “Shee-it. White line disease. Thrush too but that ain’t no
surprise. Gonna need to doctor them and get some pads. What the hell’s wrong
with that brother of yours? You can practically count their ribs.”
Haley snorted. “Been asking myself that question for years.”
“If he was too lazy to feed them, least he could do was put
them to pasture.”
“You’d think so, wouldn’t ya?” She unloaded the next mare.
“Truth is, Dooley, the boy couldn’t pour piss out of a boot if there was
directions on the heel. Should have known better than to think he’d take care
of the stock while I was gone.”
Wyatt unloaded the third mare and followed them to a large,
overgrown paddock. The grass was a good nine inches tall and the mare smelled
it, prancing anxiously beside him. He swore under his breath. Had the horses
eaten at all in the weeks Haley had been gone?
Dooley released his charge and hurried back for the last
horse. He and Haley unhooked the leads from the halters and the animals
immediately tucked into the sweet Texas grass. Haley shook her head and he
wrapped an arm around her shoulder and gave her a squeeze.
“They’re gonna be fine. I’ll call my vet, have him come out
and take a look at them.”
Haley nodded. “Thank you for taking me to get them. Jesus,
they could have starved to death.”
Dooley came back with the final mare and turned her loose.
“That boy should be horsewhipped.”
Wyatt laughed. “Haley took a quirt to him. Beat him like a
rented mule.”
Dooley tipped his hat back and grinned. “Is that right? I’d
give a month’s pay to see that.” He resettled his hat, opened the gate and
stepped through. “Reckon I’d best see what kind of damage the boy caused these
mares’ hooves.”
The damage wasn’t as bad as they’d feared. Three of the four
animals had bad cases of thrush, the fourth had the beginnings of white line
disease. Wyatt held onto the halter of a mare named Lolly while Haley trimmed
loose flaps of mushy tissue from around the frog, then scoured the hoof in an
iodine solution and patted it dry, repeating the process on all four hooves.
Next came a generous application of homemade sugardine that Dooley mixed up.
All four horses got the thrush treatment.
“Soon as that little sorrel’s thrush clears up some, we’ll
need to get pads on her.” Dooley took the sugardine from her and started
working on the sorrel, Fancy.
“Shit. You know a good ferrier?”
Dooley gave her a terse nod. “Emmet Gruber. His name should
be in Jack’s Rolodex. If you were to call him now, he could schedule it.”
Haley uttered a deep
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