Read Online The Rancher Next Door by Betsy St. Amant - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Betsy St. Amant
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Ava needs her daddy. Don’t take him, too. She didn’t think she was in a position to ask for any favors, but if there was ever any grace to be found, surely it would land on a sweetheart like Ava.
Thankfully, Spitfire had taken off after Nugget again, leaving Brady time to gather himself. But he wasn’t leaping immediately to his feet. She hoped he hadn’t hit his head.
“Brady!” She cupped her hands and hollered as loud as she could. He staggered to his knees, blood dripping from a cut on his brow, answering her question. She caught her breath, hope filling her heart at the sight of him moving, albeit slowly. “Are you okay?” Her legs trembled beneath her, willing his reply.
He lifted one hand as if to tell her to wait, his other fist pounding his chest. He’d probably gotten the wind knocked out of him, and Caley knew from ladder-training mishaps that took a minute to recover from. Not to mention it hurt like crazy.
Across the field, Spitfire—apparently tired of chasing Nugget, who appeared to be heading back toward the barn—focused his attention toward Brady, still at half-mast in the field. He saw the danger the same time she did, and he began hurrying toward the fence.
But he wasn’t fast enough.
Caley might not be able to control the future, but she sure wasn’t going to stand by and let Ava become an orphan today. Without hesitation, she hauled herself over the fence and slipped two fingers in her mouth, whistling loud enough to perk the ears of every horse in the neighboring counties.
Just as she’d hoped, Spitfire changed direction and barreled toward her, wide nostrils flaring to twice their size. Brady darted toward the fence, ninety degrees from Spitfire, steering clear of the bull’s peripheral vision. Caley hooked one foot on the fence and swung her leg over toward safety, heart pounding in her ears. Spitfire hadn’t jumped it the first time. Hopefully he wouldn’t be further motivated now.
She cleared the fence, noting Brady had done the same, and landed hard, dropping to one knee in the grass. Brady, still running, pointed to her truck. “Bed.” The word rasped out barely louder than her heartbeat in her ears.
Sudden hooves pounded behind her, and Caley decided she didn’t want to trust Spitfire’s previous decisions after all. She propped one foot on the fender of her pickup and Brady grabbed her arms, hauling her over the tailgate. He pulled her down into the bed of the truck just as Spitfire crashed through the fence, sending a shower of wood splinters raining around them.
Caley covered her head, and Brady’s breath fanned her cheek, his arms wrapped with firm pressure around her shoulders. “Stay down.”
Angry snorts sounded from near the wheel well, and Caley willingly obeyed, moving only the elbow that she knew dug into Brady’s ribs.
“When they lose visual, they calm down.” His voice whispered in her ear, husky and warm, and his heart pounded a matching rhythm against her palm, still resting on his chest.
Caley quickly moved her hand, face flaming. She wasn’t entirely sure which was more terrifying—the close call they’d just had, or the feelings being in such close proximity to Brady stirred in her heart. “Is it safe?” It felt anything but, for myriad reasons.
Brady gently shifted her off him and propped up on one elbow, just enough to peer over the rim of the bed. The blood on his forehead had dried to rust, smearing the corner of his temple. “He’s back in the pasture now, seems calm.” He pushed up on his knees and stood, then reached down to help propel Caley to her feet.
She brushed off the back of her jeans, and Brady plucked a piece of wood shaving from her hair. Their eyes locked and held, and Brady’s finger grazed her cheek before he dropped his hand to his side. “That was dangerous.”
No kidding. She still couldn’t breathe, and it wasn’t because of Spitfire. She tried to look away from his arresting gaze, but failed. “I
Thankfully, Spitfire had taken off after Nugget again, leaving Brady time to gather himself. But he wasn’t leaping immediately to his feet. She hoped he hadn’t hit his head.
“Brady!” She cupped her hands and hollered as loud as she could. He staggered to his knees, blood dripping from a cut on his brow, answering her question. She caught her breath, hope filling her heart at the sight of him moving, albeit slowly. “Are you okay?” Her legs trembled beneath her, willing his reply.
He lifted one hand as if to tell her to wait, his other fist pounding his chest. He’d probably gotten the wind knocked out of him, and Caley knew from ladder-training mishaps that took a minute to recover from. Not to mention it hurt like crazy.
Across the field, Spitfire—apparently tired of chasing Nugget, who appeared to be heading back toward the barn—focused his attention toward Brady, still at half-mast in the field. He saw the danger the same time she did, and he began hurrying toward the fence.
But he wasn’t fast enough.
Caley might not be able to control the future, but she sure wasn’t going to stand by and let Ava become an orphan today. Without hesitation, she hauled herself over the fence and slipped two fingers in her mouth, whistling loud enough to perk the ears of every horse in the neighboring counties.
Just as she’d hoped, Spitfire changed direction and barreled toward her, wide nostrils flaring to twice their size. Brady darted toward the fence, ninety degrees from Spitfire, steering clear of the bull’s peripheral vision. Caley hooked one foot on the fence and swung her leg over toward safety, heart pounding in her ears. Spitfire hadn’t jumped it the first time. Hopefully he wouldn’t be further motivated now.
She cleared the fence, noting Brady had done the same, and landed hard, dropping to one knee in the grass. Brady, still running, pointed to her truck. “Bed.” The word rasped out barely louder than her heartbeat in her ears.
Sudden hooves pounded behind her, and Caley decided she didn’t want to trust Spitfire’s previous decisions after all. She propped one foot on the fender of her pickup and Brady grabbed her arms, hauling her over the tailgate. He pulled her down into the bed of the truck just as Spitfire crashed through the fence, sending a shower of wood splinters raining around them.
Caley covered her head, and Brady’s breath fanned her cheek, his arms wrapped with firm pressure around her shoulders. “Stay down.”
Angry snorts sounded from near the wheel well, and Caley willingly obeyed, moving only the elbow that she knew dug into Brady’s ribs.
“When they lose visual, they calm down.” His voice whispered in her ear, husky and warm, and his heart pounded a matching rhythm against her palm, still resting on his chest.
Caley quickly moved her hand, face flaming. She wasn’t entirely sure which was more terrifying—the close call they’d just had, or the feelings being in such close proximity to Brady stirred in her heart. “Is it safe?” It felt anything but, for myriad reasons.
Brady gently shifted her off him and propped up on one elbow, just enough to peer over the rim of the bed. The blood on his forehead had dried to rust, smearing the corner of his temple. “He’s back in the pasture now, seems calm.” He pushed up on his knees and stood, then reached down to help propel Caley to her feet.
She brushed off the back of her jeans, and Brady plucked a piece of wood shaving from her hair. Their eyes locked and held, and Brady’s finger grazed her cheek before he dropped his hand to his side. “That was dangerous.”
No kidding. She still couldn’t breathe, and it wasn’t because of Spitfire. She tried to look away from his arresting gaze, but failed. “I
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