Hearts Unleashed
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Contents
Cover
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Copyright
Guide
Cover
Contents
Start of content
Hearts Unleashed
Paris Wynters
Avon, Massachusetts
For Sgt. James J. Regan
Your memory will live on and forever be celebrated.
RLTW
Chapter 1
Sweet clover and cattle. Nothing like it.
Katie Locke breathed in the familiar scents wafting through the open kitchen window. The incongruous mixture meant one thing. Fall had arrived in Absarokee, Montana, the same way it did every year: swiftly and with vibrant color. A soft breeze fluttered around, gently lifting and lowering leaves of various shades of red, orange, and yellow. The air was cool and crisp, like a refreshing drink of chilled water after hours in a desert. But it wouldn’t be long before winter hemmed in the ranch on every side. Just like it wouldn’t be long before her ranch was hemmed in by the presence of the new foreman she knew they didn’t need.
A third scent added to the mix: warm, ripe banana. Of course, she couldn’t bake the foreman’s intrusion away, but she sure was going to try. She hobbled over to the oven and peered in, ignoring the twinge in her ankle. The banana bread smelled wonderful but still looked soft in the middle. Sighing, she dragged her way back to the table and dropped into a chair, her gaze focused on the rich blue sky outside.
The back door opened. Nickel bounded in, paws sliding over the wooden boards of the kitchen floor.
She bent over and clapped her hands. “Here, girl.”
Nickel had grown from a pudgy gray puppy to an awkward adolescent, her ears and paws too large for her body. She tumbled to an undignified halt at Katie’s feet, looked up, and waited for her ears to be scratched.
The puppy was nothing like her graceful and athletic Koda, who was probably running around the ranch, getting herself into some sort of trouble.
“You spoil that dog,” her dad said, closing the screen door.
The complaint was so familiar it had lost all sting, becoming more like a greeting than anything else. Her gaze lingered fondly over her dad’s weathered skin and thick graying mustache, to his shirt, fastened all the way to the very top button. No one did that anymore—but trying to persuade him of the fact was an exercise in frustration.
“Looks like a new pair of boots should be at the top of your Christmas list this year.” She eyed his heavily scuffed boots, running her thumbs over Nickel’s soft puppy ears. If she started dropping hints now, she might be able to persuade him to get a fresh pair of boots by New Year’s.
“Koda’s still running in the fields,” he said, face flushing red. “Don’t need anything else destroyed.”
The Malinois, her protector and best friend, had pulled down the screen door. For fun. The canine could be a furry psychopath without proper exercise. But what else would she expect from a retired military working dog? Little Miss Maligator never got tired.
Dad checked his watch. “New foreman should be here any second. Come out and meet him.”
Black mist swirled at the edges of her mind, which started to fail, like an engine that turned over and over, never kicking into action. A salty tear dripped down her cheek, leaving a tight, dry feeling. “Already? Dad—”
“We need the help,” he said. “You know we do. Even with both of us pulling twelve-hour days, we’re barely keeping up. Katie, I promise he’s safe. I ran a background check on him. He’s a good guy.”
“On paper.” She gazed off into the distance, eyes unblinking. “We’ve been fooled before. Remember what happened to Snowbird? He still refuses to let anyone but me ride him after the last man—”
“You can’t let one bad apple spoil the bunch,” he said.
“Not just one bad apple. Ever since Bill retired, we’ve had nothing but a string of bad hires. Remember the one who stole from us?” Nickel nudged her leg. Absently, she stroked the dog’s ears again.
“Rathborne’s different. He’s former army. Returned home after being wounded. He’s really grateful to be offered the job.”
Awesome.
Her dad was notoriously weak where sob stories were concerned. But she wasn’t. Not after a new hire almost cost their ranch veterinarian her license. Not after some asshole abused one of the horses. Not after some guy snuck into the clinic and attacked her, leaving her unconscious with numerous fractured bones.
And no way some Rathborne was going to come in and have it easy just because he used to be in the military. “You should’ve talked to me before offering him the job. I looked at the books last night. We need someone with experience. Someone who can pull their own weight and then some.”
She absentmindedly scratched at her forearm, taking deep, measured breaths. “Not to mention, I’ll have to work with him, too.”
A large hand gently landed on her shoulder. “Meet him before you make any assumptions.”
Tires crunched on the gravel driveway, and the room closed in around her. She pulled at the collar of her shirt, attempting to cool herself down. “Sounds like he’s here.”
Her arm trembled when she hoisted herself up from the chair to peer out the window. “Are you sure his application wasn’t bogus? What kind of ranch foreman drives a blue Civic?”
Her father joined her, his uneasiness palpable. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, hating she was the cause.
“Guess we’re about to find out,” he grumbled, both walking out the back door and leaving the comforting aroma of banana bread behind.
The big red horse barn was only a short walk from the main house, but it may as well have been on the moon. Her brain picked up her feet in an unbalanced gait, carelessly dropping the lead weights to the ground with each harrowing step. She smacked a clenched fist into her thigh, her nails digging into the skin of her hand. Why was it still so difficult to walk? It had been six months since—since she’d woken up screaming on the hospital floor, covered in blood, as the hospital staff tended to her wounds.
“You’ve got to stay off that leg, Katie. Your ankle will never heal if you keep putting stress on it.”
She laughed, imagining Dr. Patel shaking his head at their next appointment. Come to think of it, she’d said the same thing to her own patients! But how could she rest when there’d been so much work to do? It wasn’t just that they were short-staffed. Working on the ranch
was the only time she felt fully relaxed.
Especially with Koda around.
Even during her nursing rotation, rest was a rare luxury.
Her dad reached the barn first, but paused, waiting for her to join him before stepping inside. A rush of fondness swept over her. Healing slower was worth it if it meant being home, working with him on the ranch.
They stepped inside the shade of the barn; the smell of sweet sun-cured hay and horse manure wafted toward them. Katie took a deep, appreciative breath. She’d tried to describe the smell to people before, telling them she’d actually missed it while attending college, but the word “manure” always made them balk. Only people who knew ranch life understood when she said that smell was comforting.
Today, it did little to calm her frayed nerves. Or melt the icy daggers surging through her veins, straight toward her rapidly beating heart. Down at the far end of the barn a car door slammed. A man walked into view and ambled toward them.
Aware of the crackling in the air the moment he stepped through the entrance, she snapped her spine straight and emitted a tiny gasp. This was not the dead weight she’d imagined. He moved slowly. Purposefully. As if he calculated every footstep. His eyes remained obscured by the shadowy light of the barn, making them impossible to read even as he stood right in front of her. She swallowed, her suddenly dry tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth. Whoever this man was, he was anything but innocuous.
Dad shook hands with the stranger, and then stepped back and turned to her. “This is John Rathborne. John, I’d like you to meet my daughter, Katie.”
“Pleased to meet you, Miss Locke.” His voice was rough but warm, setting off a wave of heat within her belly. He sized her up, his dark gaze lingering curiously on her face.
She lifted her jaw and adjusted her sunglasses, making sure they continued to hide her left eye. The man was broad-shouldered and tall. His close-cropped hair was speckled with gray, but he had the body of a man in his prime. Her cheeks heated, and she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Katie’s been working on the ranch her whole life,” Dad continued. “Even during college and nursing school. She even got the head nurse to adjust rounds so she could help during the cattle drive. But things didn’t—work out. Now she’s back here full time.”
“I’m sure I’ll be able to learn a lot from her,” John said. A faint beeping sound cut him off before he could say more.
Dad craned his neck toward the house. “What’s that?”
Her eyes widened. “Oh, my gosh. The banana bread! It’s burning!”
“Oh, I should’ve known.” Dad simpered. “Happens every time. I’ll take care of it. Why don’t you two take a moment to get to know each other?” He looked at her and quirked his left brow, warning her to be nice. “I’ll be right back.”
She shoved her hands into her jacket pockets and looked around the barn—at anything except the man in front of her. But her eyes fell back to his muscled arms. An electrical zing coursed through her body. Her teeth sank into the plump skin of her bottom lip, attempting to fight off the faint tingling sensation occurring between her legs.
“Katie, is it?” He extended his hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”
She reluctantly accepted it. His skin was rough and calloused, yet at the same time his grip was gentle. She fought the urge to relax into the touch. He looked down at her with a polite smile that didn’t reach his eyes—blue eyes, looking out from a face creased with concern.
Her breath caught, and every muscle in her body tightened. She’d seen this man before. His face, his voice—somewhere—I know him—
The beeping stopped and she pulled her hand away. “Looks like the banana bread crisis has been averted.”
“Your father mentioned we’d be working together quite a bit.”
“That’s right. I keep the books, so the foreman goes through me for purchasing and payroll and stuff,” she said, crossing her arms.
“So, you just do all the financial ‘stuff’?”
She took a step back and dug her thumbnails into the pads of her index fingers. “I do a hell of a lot more than just the financials. I keep track of the vaccinations, the inventory, the calving records. But my preference, for your information, is being in the saddle out on the range. Alone.”
He raised both hands in surrender and took a step back. “Hey, I’m just trying to make conversation.”
“Yeah, well, don’t think we are dying for your help. I’m perfectly capable of running this place myself.” She snapped her mouth shut before she could say anything else. Her heart beat too fast, too heavy for her to tell whether it was anger or something else making it race.
The front door of the house banged shut and she flinched. Dammit. She smoothed her hair and straightened her sunglasses. This foreman was not going to take advantage of her family. She needed to be strong.
What I really need is Koda. But the dog could be anywhere, and this was not the time to be unprofessional or show weakness. Not in front of a possible new hire.
The drum of her dad’s approaching heavy footsteps calmed her nerves. In no time he stood beside her, placing a hand on her back. “I think you’ll do just fine here,” Dad said softly to John. “If you need a good physical therapist—”
Physical therapist? She’d forgotten he was wounded.
“I’ll be fine, sir,” John said. “Thank you.”
Dad nodded. There was a pause. “What do you say?” Dad again extended a hand to him.
John reached for it and shook it. “Sounds damn good, sir. It feels pretty great to be out on a ranch again.”
Katie frowned. So much for her input. This was her ranch too.
“Call me Mitch.” Her dad crossed his arms. “You mentioned your uncle owned a place, yeah?”
“My uncle, Matt Lewis. He had a place north of Billings but sold it years ago.”
“I knew Matt,” Dad said. “He was a good guy. What’s he up to now?”
“Retired to Arizona, last I heard. Seemed he preferred deserts to mountains.”
There was a sudden rustling in the bushes near the front porch of the house. Sure enough, a moment later, a pair of dogs tumbled out. Two Bits and Nickel up to their usual tricks. She smiled, watching the two dogs chase each other around the yard. She turned back to her companions and her smile faded. John grinned, watching the canines’ antics, but for a moment, he spaced out.
“You like dogs?” Dad asked.
“I do. Used to have one.”
What dog owner would let the chance to describe their pet go?
“Why don’t I introduce you to the other ranch hands? Our veterinarian, Linda Taylor, will be here today, so you’ll meet her, too. We still need to hire some more people, but that’ll be part of your job. We’re a fast-growing operation here. I wouldn’t be surprised if we doubled in size by the end of next year.”
With every word he spoke, Dad’s pride in their ranch came through loud and clear. And she couldn’t blame him. They’d worked hard to build the business. After years of overcoming obstacles, they’d finally made a name for themselves.
When she’d been a nurse, pride was a foreign feeling. Relief, sadness, and dread dominated the job. And on some occasions, happiness. But never pride. But now she was back at the ranch full time, responsible for its success, she felt the same pride her dad did. And she couldn’t wait to see where the next years would take the business.
John remained silent as they walked around the main part of the ranch, scanning his surroundings. He shifted yet again, fiddling with the keys hanging from the carabineer attached to his belt loop. Does he find the open countryside unnerving?
“We keep the cattle in the west pastures during the summer and move them to the south for the winter. It gives the ranch hands working space to remove the darn spotted knapweed,” Dad said, kicking a tiny rock with the toe of his boot.
“Uncle Matt had issues with the ubiquitous plant. I remember, and not so fondly, spending my
summers pulling the weed out of the ground. Sort of a punishment whenever my final school grades were subpar.”
“Never thought of using it that way. Then again, Katie here hardly caused any trouble.” Her dad winked at her before turning to face the grazing cattle. “You’ll notice the meadow is close enough to view from the house; I learned years ago it’s better if I can see my herd.”
“Makes sense,” John said.
“Katie and I will probably move the herd in a couple of weeks, since you can’t ride. At least, not yet.” He glanced in John’s direction as if about to say something before continuing to the next barn. “We keep our saddle mounts in here, plus anything else needing to come in due to weather or illness or injury. And that’s Linda’s truck parked out there next to your car. I want you to meet her because you’ll work with her quite a bit.”
A soft breeze kicked up gold flecks of hay and dust, which floated lazily in a stray beam of sunlight. She leaned against the barn wall, hiding in the shadows, grateful for their familiar shelter.
“Linda?” Dad called out. While the barn seemed cavernous, the sheer number of stalls swallowed up his voice.
“This place is so big, I’m surprised anybody could hear anything in here,” John said.
A thickset woman in her late fifties stepped out from one of the many stalls that lined the inside of the barn. Her graying hair was pulled into a messy bun and she wore coveralls and a short-sleeved work shirt. “We’re down here,” she called. “Koda and I are just checking on your weanling.”
“K-Koda?”
Katie turned. John had repeated her dog’s name as though he couldn’t believe it, and it was enough to make her speak for the first time since they started their tour. “Yes, Koda. It means ‘friend’ in the language of the Dakota Sioux.”
But he wasn’t listening to her. His eyes focused on the tan dog with the narrow black face who emerged from one of the stalls with Linda. The big dog’s long muzzle appeared to break into a huge smile. Her tension evaporated as her four-legged companion bounded toward them. Koda was more than a dog. She was Katie’s strength. Her protector.