Evidence of Trust (Colorado Trust 1)

She smiled.

“I’m serious.” He inclined his head toward her stallion. “What about working with horses? You’ve done an amazing job with him. Have you ever thought of becoming a trainer?”

“No.” But that was a lie, sort of. She’d thought of it, but not seriously—her father would never forgive her. “I think I’d have a hard time letting go,” she told Mark.

“Wanna give it a go this summer? See how you like it?”

She paused and raised her eyebrows.

“I found a little mustang mare. She’s pretty as can be, but meaner than the devil.”

Britt frowned as she resumed brushing. “Why would you want her?”

“No one else did.”

That didn’t surprise her one bit. Mark was tough and gruff, but he had a heart of gold soft enough to rescue a horse no one else wanted.

“If anyone could gentle her, you could.”

“Such confidence.” She gave a soft laugh and moved over to join him at the stall door. “Explain mean.”

“In a bullfight, you’ve got the bull and the matador…”

“Let me guess—she’s the bull.”

His silence confirmed her guess, and Britt hesitated saying more. Did she really want to spend time with an animal like that? A little leap of her pulse provided the answer.

“You have a way with animals, Britt. I saw it that first summer and that’s why I hired you. All I ask is that you look at her.”

After a long moment, she nodded her agreement.

Mark grinned, tapped a quick beat on the top edge of the stall door, and backed toward his office. “She’ll be here in the mornin’.”

She leaned her head over the partition. “How are you getting her here?”

Just before he slipped through the doorway, he said one word. “Tranquilizer.”

Chapter 8

An unseasonably warm Sunday night found Joel in the company of his fellow rangers and a multitude of other seasonal employees from around Estes Park for the Third Annual Summer Kick-off Party. Held at the Watering Hole Bar and Grill, the owner, Billy Marshall, had posted a ‘Private Party’ sign on the door.

Positioning himself at the end of the well-worn yet polished bar, Joel ordered a drink and surveyed the hot, crowded room. Most of the people did no more than nod in his direction, and some not even that, but that was fine by him. After finding another dead animal on the southeast side of the park earlier that morning, he’d come to observe, not make friends.

A redhead sitting nearby caught his attention by flashing him a sensual smile as the live band returned from their first set break. She leaned forward to allow him a clear view of her generous cleavage, then uncrossed her long legs. His gaze slid down as she slowly re-crossed them.

It was a blatant, hot invitation and he felt nothing more than a slight twinge of lukewarm interest.

You are friggin’ nuts, man.

With a smile that felt more like a grimace, he turned back to the mirrored wall that ran the length of the bar. He lifted his drink, watching the reflection as the door behind him opened. His hand halted in mid-air, then slammed his glass down on the bar so hard he was amazed it didn’t shatter.

Brittany Lucas.

He slowly turned to regard the vision face to face. Through an opening in the crowd, he got a split-second glimpse of a gray sleeveless dress, long bare legs, and black cowboy boots. Bodies shifted, and he looked up again, focusing on those blond curls cascading in wild waves past her shoulders.

Now, there was a woman who aroused his emotions. The first being anger, and the second, desire—much as he hated to admit it. The second fueled the first, and he was halfway through the crowd before he even realized he’d moved. When he reached her, he clamped a hand on her arm to spin her back toward the door.

“Hey—”