Stubborn Hearts Read online

  Henry had had a word with Caleb about taking Ryan on as an assistant for a year in order to get her some more hands-on experience to better her chances of being accepted into the University of Florida's Veterinary Program. Ryan hadn't been in that meeting, but it must have went well, because Henry got his way and Ryan had been working with him nearly every day since, and that was almost three months ago — two weeks after her mom had passed.

  Realistically, Ryan knew that Henry probably went to bat for her out of compassion that she had just lost her mom. But she wanted to believe it was because he saw something good in her and wanted her to succeed.

  Maybe it was both.

  Even though Ryan had been working at the stables for almost four months, she'd only seen her dad twice. Once when he was folding his perfectly tailored suit into the Jaguar at the front office on his way out — he hadn't seen her. And once when she was helping Doc with an irritable colt as he tried to take a blood sample.

  She'd gotten flustered and the colt's hard head had pushed into her chest before she'd braced properly, sending her out the stall door. She'd tripped over her feet and the wheelbarrow she'd been using to muck out stalls before being called to assist. She'd landed on her butt. Hard.

  Cursing with all the versions of the f-word that she knew, she'd struggled to regain her feet as a shadow fell across her body.

  Looking up into brown eyes that matched her own, she'd swallowed her suddenly dry tongue.

  “Sorry,” she'd muttered, glancing away quickly as her face heated up.

  Caleb Zacherson had cleared his throat and then stepped around her. He hadn't said a word.

  And she hadn't seen him at the stables ever again.

  Until today.

  The nerves in her belly made themselves known and she had to take several deep breaths before she got out of her car. Maybe he would be in the office or the main building and she wouldn't see him.

  Shuffling quickly to her locker in the back to stow her purse and phone, she noticed that the atmosphere surrounding the stable was quiet. She didn't hear the normal chatter coming from the jockeys and grooms, or the sounds of horses huffing with impatience to be the next to get taken out.

  Then again, maybe she was imagining it.

  “Hey, Doc,” she said softly as she approached Henry, who was looking at a chart for their newest acquisition — a beast of an animal with a coat that had once been sleek and shiny, but was now dulled and matted in places. His thick, mahogany mane was dry and limp, like he hadn't been able to run for a very long time.

  Faramir's Fire.

  Ryan had fallen in love with the name long before she had met the horse. But who didn't love a good Tolkien reference?

  She secretly called him Red to keep things simple.

  The large colt was the most-hyped racer to enter the scene in the last decade. He came from good stock, a great farm, decent owners. He was fast, breaking records in his first heats. But then he seemed to hit his peak and his speed died off. In the previous three races, he'd come in dead last — by seven lengths.

  It was looking like retirement for Faramir's Fire.

  But Doc Henry had taken a shine to him when he'd arrived at Tampa Bay Downs and had a word with their resident trainer Jesse Hart.

  No one in the stable had the kind of influence that Jesse had. He was only twenty-five, but had already established himself as some kind of wunderkind when it came to training race horses.

  So Jesse had had a word with Caleb, and Faramir's Fire arrived by trailer two days later.

  He was Ryan's priority for the next four weeks. She was to assist Doc in changing his diet, monitoring his moods, and taking blood and urine samples. Because Jesse wanted to race him again at the end of the four weeks.

  The whole stable had been buzzing with anticipation. No one had ever taken a horse that had been consistently losing by more than three lengths and turn them into a champion. But Zacherson Racing didn't own middle-of-the-pack racers. They bred, raised, and raced contenders. Placing top three and usually first. They were all wondering if Jesse and Doc could pull it off.

  Ryan wasn't wondering. She knew they would.

  Doc was a genius and Jesse was the best horseman she had ever seen.

  They totally had this covered.

  “Hey, girl,” Doc said without looking up from his clipboard.

  “Anything out of the ordinary today?” she asked her usual.

  “Bloke's got a touch of bloat this morning. See if you can get me a UA and run the protein levels again. I suspect they're still too high.”

  Great. A urine analysis first thing in the morning.

  This was why Ryan wore jeans to work.

  Doc gave her a nod and then resumed his daily rounds.

  She gathered her bucket and her stool, perched in the corner of the stall, and waited for Red to do his business.

  “He likes you.”

  Ryan's eyes lifted to the voice. Long, corded arms were draped over the edge of the stall. They were attached to defined (even through his denim button up shirt) shoulders and strong neck. Could a neck look strong? Well, everything about Jesse Hart was strong, from the way he spoke to people, to the way he blinked — which he did slowly and deliberately, cunning blue eyes taking in everything around him all the time. The shock of once brown hair that had been lightened with the sun and styled by the wind, was tossed across his forehead, drawing even more focus to those eyes.

  “How can you tell?” she quipped, shoving Red's head away as he pushed into her shoulder, hoping for a goody — of which she had none, since it wasn't in his very special diet.

  Jesse's lips twitched, but he didn't respond. His shoulders straightened suddenly and his arms withdrew from the ledge of the stall.

  “Good morning, sir,” he greeted solidly.

  Ryan craned her neck over the side of Red's huge head and tried to see who he was talking to.

  “Good morning, Hart,” Caleb Zacherson's smooth voice hit Ryan's ears just before he came into view. “How's he doing today?”

  Both men turned their bodies to observe the big colt and Ryan took a deep breath. Red, realizing he had more visitors, decided to take his turn through the box like a pageant queen. It was another one of the colt's qualities that led Ryan to believe he was meant to be a winner. He had the bearing of a champion, even with a dull coat and matted mane.

  Though, give George two minutes alone with him and nothing on the racer would be matted.

  George was the head groom. A former jockey turned groom after his knees couldn't take the strain of racing anymore. And he loved horses. His sweet demeanor and gentle touch were the standard in the stable. Everyone adhered to George's regulations in horse care.

  It was just one more contradiction about Caleb for Ryan to wrestle with internally. His staff, his standards, they were top-notch. No doubt he understood how to build a successful and principled enterprise.

  Jesse's hand softly touched the velvet muzzle as Red breathed in his scent and grunted a greeting, though the trainer maintained eye contact with Caleb.

  “He's adjusted to his new home quickly.” Jesse nodded in Ryan's direction. “He's got a dedicated nurse he's fallen in love with a little bit, which is helping him acclimate.”

  Ryan's breath arrested in her chest at the compliment. Caleb's brown eyes flicked to Ryan and back.

  “Are we still on course for what we discussed?” he asked. Red's nostrils expanded as he breathed in Caleb's cologne. It was rather pungent, Ryan could smell it all the way in her corner. Red lifted his large head and took a step back, clearly not liking it.

  “We're on course, sir,” Jesse replied, his eyes tracking the horse's movements, his voice tight but gentle.

  Red made the motions of getting reading to pee and Ryan became alert — readying herself.

  It wasn't the first time she'd had to collect a urine sample from a colt, but each time was always an adventure. The trick was to get it mid-stream, where it was the most potent, an
d of course not get any splash-back. Which was harder than it looked. Especially if the horse was suddenly spooked by a bucket being stealthily slid underneath them.

  “That's a good boy,” she murmured, bucket at the ready.

  Red stretched out and began to relax his guy. (No, “guy” was not the technical term, but it's what Ryan called it.)

  The expression, “pee like a race horse” didn't come from nowhere. It was like a fire-hose, hence the sturdiness of her bucket. She used her toe to slide it gingerly into the stream. The urine splashed against the sides and up her pant leg. Tiny flecks sprayed on her face and she closed her eyes, but held steady without recoiling, and waited for the colt to finish.

  Red swung his head around and pushed on her arm as if to apologize for the entire episode. She stroked his neck softly.

  “It's okay, Red,” she said brightly. “It's not like you've never peed on me before.”

  “Charming,” Caleb remarked dryly as Jesse chuckled under his breath.

  Oh, that's right, they had an audience. Ryan ground her teeth together and then snagged the bucket before Red could kick it over.

  “Keep me updated,” Caleb instructed Jesse. Ryan noted that he'd taken a step back from the stall sometime between when Red had started peeing and now. He didn't even glance in her direction before he walked away.

  The stall door swung open and Ryan smiled at Jesse as he took the bucket and handed her a towel. She wiped off her face quickly. “Thanks. Balancing the bucket while opening the door is almost as hard as getting the donation to begin with. Never mind I hardly have a hanky at the ready.”

  He grinned at her and she sighed inwardly. Jesse Hart grinning should be on one of those channels that only showed inspiring scenery.

  She took her bucket back and turned toward the exit. He fell in step beside her as she made her way to Doc's office on the other side of the forecourt and in a separate building.

  “Checking the protein again?”

  “Yeah. Doc says he was bloated this morning, but I think he likes to hold his breath when Doc comes around just to give the guy a hard time.”

  Jesse chuckled low.

  “I like how you call him Red,” Jesse remarked casually, taking a step to get ahead of her and turning around to walk backwards, facing her.

  Ryan shrugged one shoulder. “It's not the most creative, but it's not as much of a mouthful.”

  “He likes it.”

  Ryan felt heat spread to her cheeks again. He was full of compliments this morning. “You can't tell that.”

  Jesse's mouth pulled up on one side. “Sure I can. I'm the expert, remember?”

  They made it to Doc's office and Jesse held the door for her. She set the bucket down on the table and went to the cabinet for her gloves and testing equipment.

  Jesse eased his lean frame against the wall and watched.

  This was normal. Anytime Doc had a question about a horse's blood or urine, Jesse would watch Ryan do the test. They'd discuss the possible conclusions and solutions together. Not that Ryan knew as much as Doc, but she was learning. Jesse and Doc were more than happy to tag-team on that.

  “You're really good with animals. You always impress me.”

  Ryan tugged on her gloves and cast him a skeptical look under her eye lashes. “I like animals. Animals tolerate me. That doesn't mean I'm good with them.”

  “Then what does it mean?”

  Ryan frowned and her eyes fell to his dusty boots crossed at the ankles. “I don't know. Maybe they put up with me because they can sense I'm not a hugger.”

  Jesse barked a laugh that made her smile in satisfaction. Jesse had an easy laugh. She loved provoking it. It made her feel funnier than she was.

  She resumed her task.

  “You still seeing the rodeo clown?” he asked.

  “He's a bull rider,” she corrected raising her eyebrow. “And, yes. We're engaged now, actually.”

  “That's... fast.” Jesse cleared his throat. “How does he feel about you being a non-hugger?”

  Ryan scrunched up her nose.

  “Ah, he's not a fan,” Jesse guessed correctly.

  No, Jeremiah was not a fan. He liked to touch, Ryan liked her space. It was an ongoing battle for her to just let him hold her hand. If he put an arm around her, she would get as stiff as granite. It was a flaw she was working on. Still, she didn't feel like discussing it with a colleague.

  “How about you let me do my job and stop asking me questions about my personal life, hmm?” She shot him a smile before shaking her head and returning to her work.

  The office was quiet for several minutes and she focused intently on getting several samples for Doc to check later as well.

  “It's not because they sense you're not a hugger.”

  She lifted her head to find Jesse watching her with the same kind of calm intensity that he used on the yearlings.

  “I'm willing to bet it's not just horses either,” he continued, his voice deep and easy. “Animals can sense when they're safe. You give them that without even trying. I know, because you give it to me without trying.”

  Ryan snorted, but without the commitment — so mostly she sniffed with her mouth open. Super classy.

  Jesse's gaze drifted down and stopped at her pant leg. “I have an extra pair of jeans and some twine in my truck if you wanna change your clothes.”

  “Wha...?” Ryan asked, looking down. “Right. The pee.”

  Jesse moved to the door and pulled it open before she had looked back up.

  “I'll be back,” he called and shut the door.

  Ryan stood very still, trying to keep the burn from hitting her eyes.

  It was shit like this that she wished she could ask her mom about.

  But she couldn't.

  And that sucked.

  two

  “The purity and selflessness of your love has always encouraged me. It encourages me now.”

  Ryan was late.

  Again.

  Jeremiah sat in his truck staring at the dashboard digital clock as it slowly clicked another minute by. If she couldn't be ready to go at eight, then why didn't she just say so?

  Headlights bounced in his rear view mirror and her Camaro came screaming into her drive. Jeremiah popped his door open and didn't even have one boot onto the asphalt before she was at his door with wide eyes.

  “I'm so sorry, Miah. I had to stay late today. We had a...”

  He raised his eyebrows like he was interested, but he wasn't. It was always something. Usually involving science and racing and things he didn't give two shits about, but made her happy. And late. It made her that, too.

  “Swear to God, Ryan,” he said, cutting her off by cupping the back of her head and pulling it into his chest. “If you weren't the most gorgeous girl on the planet, you wouldn't be worth it.”

  “Shut up,” she said, her lips twitching with a slight smile and eyes rolling as she shoved him away and led him to the front door of her house.

  She twisted the key on the lock as Jeremiah's eyes caught sight of her enormously baggy blue jeans.

  “Are you trying to single-handedly bring back the 90's, babe? 'Cause, gotta say, was never a fan of the over-sized look on women.”

  She flicked the lights on in the entry and pressed the code on the security control panel before looking down at her attire. “Oh. I got peed on today, so Jesse lent me some clothes.”

  Jeremiah's chest tightened and his eyes sharpened on Ryan.

  “Jesse Hart?”

  She glanced at him, her dark eyes tired, but happy. And completely without guile. “Yep. I'm gonna shower quick and then we can go.” She spun on her toes and raced through the large house, heading for the stairs.

  Jeremiah ran his tongue over his teeth as he made his way into the kitchen at a more leisurely pace. Of course Jesse freaking Hart had lent his woman clothes. What a great guy he was. Ever the gentleman.

  Dickhead.

  Jeremiah pressed his lips together in a
hard line as he stared out into dark backyard. It didn't matter. Jesse Hart might think he was smooth, but Ryan was wearing Jeremiah's ring on her finger. She wasn't the kind of woman to forget that either.

  Fact was, Jeremiah was proud that he got one of the last good girls. She had minimal relationship experience when they met. One or two dates in high school, no weird hang-ups, not practiced in the art of female mind-games. And his favorite part — virgin. Well, until their engagement last week anyway.

  It had taken some coaxing, but he'd finally gotten her to seal the deal. He hoped talking her into sex wouldn't always be so difficult. Eventually she'd loosen up. Right?

  Why she had a problem with intimacy didn't really matter. At least he knew she wouldn't be sleeping with anyone else. That was a nice little affirmation, he supposed.

  Yeah, he didn't have anything to worry about from Jesse Hart.

  “Ready!” Ryan called brightly as she came sailing back down the stairs.

  “Most low-maintenance girl in the world,” he murmured as she pressed both of her hands to his chest and rolled up on her toes to kiss his lips.

  “I hope that's a good thing,” she said with a grin.

  “As long as you keep looking as good as you look, I have no problem with it at all,” he said, sliding his hands over her backside and giving it a squeeze. Her mouth flattened into a hard line as she fought backing away from his aggressive physical claiming of her.

  But she was going to have to get used to it.

  She was all his.

  ***

  Ryan rolled over and grabbed her beeping phone off the nightstand. The display said it was nearly five in the morning.

  Doc: I need you in early. By 6.

  Ryan pressed the phone to her forehead and closed her eyes. This is why she didn't like spending the night at Miah's place. No way could she go home to get a change of clothes and make it to the stables by six.

  “Hey,” she nudged the warm body beside her. “Miah.”

  “Hm?” Jeremiah rolled into her, wrapping one strong arm around her middle and burrowing his face in the crook of her neck. His lips pressed against her skin and she felt him settle back into sleep.