The day progressed slowly, even though there was plenty to do to help Paula with household chores. Every time Caitlan passed J.T.'s study she debated whether to stop and talk to him. But what would she say? Knowing he probably wouldn't appreciate being disturbed, she decided against the idea. He didn't even emerge for lunch. Paula took him a sandwich, a side of freshly made potato salad, and a glass of iced tea.
By early afternoon boredom set in. Caitlan thought about sketching, but after the disturbing vision she'd drawn the night before she wasn't all that eager to put pencil to paper. At least not in the light of day. She wanted the privacy of secluded night hours to delve deeper into her mind for the source of those images.
Sitting on the window seat in the living room, Caitlan gazed out the window, thinking of King's Ransom's peculiar behavior. Within five minutes Caitlan stood by the stallion's stall, sugar cubes in her hand.
As soon as King saw her, he went wild, kicking and rearing like an animal possessed. "King," she called softly, and quietly unlatched the door to his stall.
The horse whinnied, a sound so mournful and hurting Caitlan ached deep inside for him. Slowly opening the door, she whispered his name again and again, a soothing litany that eventually calmed the stallion enough so he wasn't thrashing any longer. He stood at the far end of the stall, breathing hard, watching her warily.
Holding his gaze, she silently urged the horse to relax, giving him no reason to fear her. Heart pounding, she stepped inside his pen. King backed up anxiously, terror flashing in his gaze. She willed him to trust her, and gradually the trust came in the form of a soulful nicker. And then Caitlan knew, the perception so strong her animal sense tapped into the source of the stallion's anguish.
"Oh, you sweet, sweet thing. You're not dangerous, are you, boy?" she said, her throat thick with sorrow. "Someone's been abusing you. I'll make it better, I promise, but you've got to let me get close so I can help you."
After a long, tense minute King's Ransom took a tentative step forward.
J.T. pushed his chair back, stood, and stretched his stiff muscles. His body ached more from sitting in one position for hours, bending over a desk and pushing a pencil, than it would have if he'd ridden out with the boys today. He'd accomplished a lot, but he still needed to take inventory of supplies, and that would take a good day or two, considering the task had been neglected for far too long.
Right now, though, he needed a break.
Leaving the office, he found the house quiet and Paula gone, as was her daily routine. She'd be back to prepare dinner for the family later that afternoon, when Laura returned from school.
Walking through the kitchen and living room and finding them empty, J.T. wondered where Caitlan was. As much as he tried to convince himself he didn't want to have anything to do with her, he couldn't stop thinking about her warm, sweet response to him last night before he'd pushed her further than she'd been ready to go. He'd wanted her badly, but he wasn't such a brute that he'd take her by force or without setting down his ground rules first. And she'd clearly made her decision when she'd bolted from his room. He told himself it was for the best, but that didn't stop him from desiring her in a way that made him restless and edgy.
Rolling his shoulders to relieve the taut muscles there, he headed for the barn, deciding to take Quinn out for a run. The door to the structure was open, and he frowned as he stepped inside. His men knew better than to leave the barn door unsecured.
Caitlan's voice drifted to him from down the corridor. Soft. Gentle. Cajoling. Curious, he silently followed the sound of her murmured words and froze when he saw exactly where she was. In King's Ransom's stall. His heart hammered in his chest. Thinking of what the powerful, schizophrenic stallion was capable of doing when spooked, stark fear congealed the blood in his veins. His mind raced with ways to get Caitlan safely out of the pen without alarming King. Any sudden moves would put Caitlan in danger. And if he didn't get her out of there soon, chances were King would snap out of the trance she seemed to have him in and turn wild and possibly harm her.
Caitlan inched subtly forward, deeper into the stall. King's ears flattened back and he whinnied, the sound laced with uncertainty. His hoof pawed the ground, yet something in the beast's eyes softened as he watched Caitlan, as if he wanted to trust her.
"You know I won't hurt you, don't you, pretty boy?" Slowly stretching her hand toward King, Caitlan uncurled her fingers and revealed the treat in her palm. "Look. I've got some sugar cubes for you. You only need to come get them."
Hell, the fool woman was trying to sweet-talk the animal into submission. And if J.T. didn't know better, he'd think King was considering the offering in Caitlan's hand. But J.T. did know better, and despite how calm the stallion seemed, it would only take a movement to trigger a tantrum that could kill Caitlan if she didn't get out of the stall in time.
Shoving his apprehension aside, J.T. moved stealthily into the doorway. King's gaze darted in his direction and he snorted. Caitlan, absorbed in her task, didn't glance back.
"Come on, King," she coaxed in a low purr. "Come get the sugar cubes."
Praying Caitlan wouldn't resist his efforts, and King wouldn't charge at them, J.T. moved fast. Lunging into the stall, he grabbed Caitlan's arm in an iron grip and jerked her out through the doorway. Caitlan gasped in surprise just as King reared back on his hind legs and pawed at the air.
Shutting the door, J.T. turned and backed a wide-eyed Caitlan into the wall, pinning her there with his hands on either side of her head. His initial fear for her safety dissolved into anger that she'd been so careless as to approach an animal like King without thinking of the repercussions.
"What the hell do you think you're doing in King's stall?" he demanded, his tone smoldering with fury.
Now that his surprise attack was over, her chin lifted a notch and she shot him a look of annoyance. "Relax."
"Relax?" Pushing off the wall, J.T. raked a hand through his hair, unable to believe she was perturbed at himfor taking her out of a potentially deadly situation. "King could tear you apart, stomp all over you and kill you, and youwant me to relax? I don't even go into his stall. It would be like committing suicide. Look at him." He waved a hand toward King, who punctuated J.T.'s words by kicking fiercely at the stall with his hind legs.
Pacing away from her, he dragged in a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. The clenching in his stomach subsided, and his pulse returned to normal. But deep, deep inside, past all the superficial stuff, he still felt jittery and a little provoked.
Damn! Face it, Rafferty. You aren't so angry at Caitlan as you are with your reaction to seeing her in King's stall. Fear. Helplessness. He cared too much, and caring was an emotion he didn't want to have anything to do with.
He whirled to face her. She hadn't moved, her eyes watching him as if he were a snake getting ready to strike. "I'm sorry," he said, the words sounding rusty, but he felt he owed her an apology for his rough handling of moments before. "You didn't know any better, but dammit, he's unpredictable and dangerous and my only thought was to get you out of his stall in one piece." Scrubbing a hand over his jaw, he resumed his agitated pacing. "Feeding him sugar cubes, of all things! You could have been seriously hurt."
Caitlan pushed off the wall and passed him. At first he thought she was going to walk out on him, but then she stopped in front of King's stall, staring through the slats at the stallion until he quieted.
Her ability to reach the stallion without words unnerved J.T. She crossed her arms over her chest and glanced back at him, her brows drawn over her eyes in consternation. "If he's so dangerous, why did you buy him?"