Colton On The Run. Anna J. Stewart
only place he’d ever called home.
“Time to get a start on the day.” Leo’s declaration had Ollie whining in anticipation, and the dog trotted over to the back door to wait. He filled a thermos with the last of the coffee, grabbed a stale bagel left from the grocery run he’d made early last week and shrugged into his grandfather’s old, long suede riding jacket. Isaac’s hat was an afterthought as Leo inhaled the aroma of his grandfather’s cigars—the only thing Isaac and Essie had ever argued about.
Leo took a deep breath of cool morning air once outside. What he wouldn’t give to hear their teasing bickering again. Or to see his grandfather’s dark, obsidian eyes glimmer with love as he gazed upon the woman he’d fallen for at first sight.
He closed the back door behind him and headed for the stable to saddle Duke while Ollie raced to the barn several yards away, no doubt to hunt down that pesky cat that had been lurking around the smaller structure a few days before. The dog was still excited to be back home after being boarded with a foster family after Essie’s death. One of Leo’s many regrets was that he hadn’t been able to claim the dog sooner so they could grieve their loss together.
There were days he wished he had someone to share this life with, someone besides his canine companion, but who had the time to go through all that when there was work to be done. Work that at times took him from sunrise to sunset.
“You’ll do for now, won’t you, Duke?” Rotating among the four horses his grandfather had kept when he’d downsized a few years back seemed the appropriate way for Leo to go about things, but there was something about the chestnut gelding that always called to Leo. Maybe it was that he’d been Essie’s favorite, too. Maybe it was that he could feel the horse grieving his grandparents’ loss as much as he did. Or maybe he had been spending far too much time alone out here on the seemingly endless two thousand acres.
“Won’t be alone for long, though.” Leo grunted as he saddled up Duke, then gave the other horses a good-morning pat. He had his eye on a truckload of new cattle by the end of the year, and he’d need additional help to keep the ranch running smoothly. His grandfather’s foreman had stayed long enough to get Leo acclimated, help with the season’s hay cutting and storage, then retired to spend the rest of his days in New Mexico. The other ranch hands had moved on, as well.
Which just left Leo and Gwen, his grandfather’s right-hand woman for the past four years. Part horse whisperer, Gwen had put herself through school as a large-animal veterinary assistant. The thirty-two-year-old was currently on safari in Africa, an extended honeymoon with her bride, Lacey.
Only problem with taking care of fifty head of cattle on his own was that by the time he got back from ranch duties, all he wanted to do was curl up with dinner and a book.
His hope that by the time Gwen and Lacey returned he’d have at least one of the outbuildings ready for them to move into was a fading hope, despite it being the perfect enticement for Gwen to accept the promotion. Until then...
With such a small herd, Leo didn’t need to be spending the extra money on help when he could handle things himself. But once that count quadrupled and grew, well, Gwen was going to be thrilled she’d had a vacation.
“You up for a morning run, Duke?” Leo ran his hand down the gelding’s nose. “I know I am.”
A sharp bark exploded from the direction of the barn. Duke neighed and stomped back. “That’s just Ollie,” Leo reminded the horse even as his own curiosity piqued. The German shepherd wasn’t normally quick to bark and certainly wasn’t easily spooked. “I bet he’s gotten himself tangled up again.” The still-young pup had a tendency of playing with ropes left lying around. On the bright side, Leo would bet the dog could win his share of knot-tying contests.
“I’d best go see what’s going on. You wait for me here, okay?” As if the horse was going to go anywhere. Other than to the feed bag Leo had filled the second he came into the stable. Chuckling to himself, he looped the reins around the hitching post and headed to the barn.
Ollie’s barking was getting louder. Leo found him just inside the door of the barn, at attention, nose pointed to the back corner where the hay was piled as high as the second story. “What’s going on, boy?” He bent down to scrub the dog’s undercoat. “Something got you spooked? You find that mean old cat you were chasing the other day?”
Leo froze at the rustling in the corner. That wasn’t any cat. And that barely there whimper set his ears on alert.
“Whoever you are—” Leo rose to his feet “—I don’t mean any harm, but you need to be moving on.”
More rustling. More scrambling. Metal scraping against the plank siding.
“I mean it.” He moved forward, Ollie close beside him growling low in the back of his throat. “I know it was cold out last night and you probably needed a place to—” he rounded the back of the hay bales “—sleep.” Whatever else he was planning to say evaporated from his mind. The woman crouching in the corner of the barn stared back at him with wide-eyed fear. “Hello.”
Was it possible to be perfectly coherent and still think he was imagining things? The woman huddled before him had hair the color of a summer bonfire, bright red with copper-and-gold highlights. Hair that was tangled around her shoulders and her face. A beautiful face that reminded him of his grandmother’s bisque china collection. Delicate but sturdy enough to withstand the trembling coursing through her. Dark blood had trickled down the side of her face to soak the once-white silk blouse. Silk? Out here on the outskirts of town? Her equally bright slacks were torn and muddy, and her filthy bare feet were covered with cuts and scrapes.
The dazed expression in her eyes triggered every protective instinct within Leo. He crouched, trying to make himself appear as small as possible as he continued his assessment. Beneath and around the grime on her face, he could see the distinct impression of a large hand—a welt that had bled, but not as profusely as the gash on her head. The way her shirt was ripped told him it hadn’t been the result of errant branches or trees but by angry, determined hands.
Had she been raped?
Leo swallowed his fury. Whatever had happened, she didn’t need anger or outrage. She needed calm understanding. She needed his help...and his protection. He forced himself to relax, to act as if they were doing nothing more than meeting over coffee at the diner in town. Ollie finally relaxed and sat down, then looked from Leo to the woman.
She shifted, only slightly, and the rusted garden shears in her hands glinted in the morning sunlight streaming through the upper opening of the barn. He remained still, his hand deep in Ollie’s fur.
“You’re hurt.” He kept his voice low. Soft. Gentle.
She flinched. And nodded once.
“Was there an accident? Were you in a car?” He resisted the urge to look behind him to scan outside, but he would have noticed a vehicle in the vicinity.
Her fingers went white around the shears.
“Were you alone?” He tried again. “Is someone else hurt? I should go call—” He shifted back, turned as if about to stand and felt her hand grip his arm. Leo tried to ignore the instant jolt that shot straight through him as if she’d dived at him, as if she’d jump-started his dormant heart.
Ollie growled, moved in, sniffed the woman’s hand and, after a moment, pushed his nose solidly against her arm as if demanding a pet. Given Ollie was a pretty good judge of character, Leo relaxed.
“Please.” Her voice was barely a whisper before she cleared it. “Please don’t call anyone. I just need—” She frowned as if uncertain of what she needed, but then she released his arm. However, instead of regripping the shears, she placed her trembling hand on Ollie’s determined head. Tears glimmered in her eyes. “Pretty dog.”
Ollie blinked over at Leo as if to verify his master had heard the compliment.
“Best dog around.” The only dog at the moment, Leo added silently. At least with Ollie