Starlight Rescue

Leslee Breene Copyright @ 2011

Chapter One

Kimberly Dorn finished checking the weathered, split-rail fence for needed repairs along the ranch’s southwest border. In the distance, dust clouds descended from the Big Horn Mountains across the dry plains.

She tugged her Stetson over her forehead and guided Starlight back into a nearby stand of blue-green pine and down the rolling hill toward home. Beneath her, the quarter horse’s gait faltered then picked up again. Perhaps a rock in the path? Starlight limped as they entered the outer barnyard. Kimberly slowed the mare, dismounted, and led her inside the barn. She removed her hat and tossed it onto a feedbag hanging on the wall.

A gentle nudge, then a muzzle warm against her bare arm. Kimberly smiled. “I know what you want. Apples. Not ‘til I have a look at those shoes.”

Starlight gazed at her from huge brown eyes fringed with the longest black lashes. Kimberly’s chest swelled with pride. She stroked the white star on the horse’s forehead, admiring her sleek lines and lustrous mahogany coat. “You’ve sure filled out since I found you, darlin’.” A bag of bones, barely able to walk six months ago.

She bent over and started to check Starlight’s hooves. The rear left shoe was missing.

“Excuse me. Are you Miss Dorn?”

Startled, she twirled around. Beneath a tousle of dark hair, a pair of inquisitive green eyes focused on her. A tall cowboy in his early thirties stood casually in the barn doorway dangling a horseshoe in one hand. “Did you lose this? I found it out in the yard.”

“Yes, I am... and maybe I did. Who are you?”

The corners of his mouth hitched upward. “Sorry, didn’t mean to sneak up on you.” He set the horseshoe on a covered barrel and angled his head out to the yard. “Just drove up in my truck. I wanted to ask about the room for rent. I’m Gabriel Trent.”

The short-sleeved shirt he wore accented muscular arms and a lean torso. Extending a tanned hand, he stepped forward and shook hers. “You can call me Gabe.”

Hmm. Warm. Solid.

She tucked a stray hair behind her ear. “Hi. I’m Kimberly.” Why did she feel uncomfortable in her old work clothes? She wished she’d at least put on some lip-gloss before beginning her afternoon chores. “It’s more than a room, and it is for rent.”

He cocked one dark brow and shifted his weight, his jeans riding low on narrow hips.

“It’s a building, actually.” He was too easy on the eyes, and she needed to keep her cool. She led Starlight into a stall and slipped the horse a few apple slices from her feedbag.

“I can show you the place right now,” she said in her best businesslike manner. She brushed past him, catching a whiff of his pine-clean scent. He followed, almost at her elbow.

A blue camper truck was parked out in the yard. From the open window, a lop-eared basset hound stared at them as they walked from the barn. The dog’s wrinkled brow lifted at the sight of its master, then lowered when it saw her. A hoarse bark erupted above its loose jowls.

Gabe nodded toward the dog. “That’s Ben. The foreman on my dad’s ranch gave him to me when I left. Guess he thought I needed a companion. He’s good-natured.” He slanted a look at her that said I hope you’ll like him.

She glanced from the hound to Gabe. “I’m a collector of animals myself. Horses. Llamas. My horse came to me by accident. A farmer in the area had neglected her so badly that she almost died.”

She winced at the memory. “Starlight could have been auctioned off to a glue factory. There was another older mare that I wasn’t able to rescue. Her ribs stuck out like a barrel. She had to be put down.”

His features held concern. “I don’t have much patience with people who mistreat animals.”

“I don’t either. Mostly it was because of dementia. The old man let me take her off his hands for half a dozen bales of hay and a huckleberry pie.”

“Sounds like a fair trade to me.” In the afternoon sunlight, Gabe’s collar-length hair shone a rich black. The kind of hair a woman would love to run her fingers through.

Her heart rate rising, Kimberly abruptly strode out of the yard. “The rental building is down the road,” she called over her shoulder. With long strides, he caught up with her and she slowed her pace. Okay, so this Gabe Trent was a free-spirited dog lover. But if she rented the place to him, she needed to find out more about his background. “Where are you from, Gabe?”

“Originally Montana. Been traveling around for a few years. I’m a wildlife photographer and filmmaker, and I need sort of a home office. My uncle Ty owns the Reliable Hardware Store in town. He told me he thought you had a room.”

“You’re Ty Trent’s nephew?” She sent him a sidelong glance. “You look kind of familiar. Do you visit much?”

“Not since my college days. Last time I remember, I helped around the store the summer after graduation.” His clear gaze reflected amusement. “Some of the local high school girls used to hang around and give Uncle Ty fits. He wanted me to keep my mind on my work.”

Her memory leaped back to one summer after her senior year. “Hmm, I remember a lanky guy who worked at the store and drove a flashy red truck.”

“Yeah. That was my graduation gift from my dad.”

“A few of my friends bet on who would get you to ask them out first.” Kimberly nearly bit her tongue. “Of course, I never did.” Not much you didn’t... you little fibber.

Gabe let out a spontaneous chuckle. “That was a long time ago.”

“We were just kids.” One thing was sure, he wasn’t a lanky kid anymore. He’d muscled up in all the right places.

Changing the subject, she said, “Your work must be fascinating. You film the beauty of an animal and I try to heal them.”

His eyes shimmered with interest. “Are you a vet?”

Proud of her profession, she smiled. “I earned my degree last fall from Colorado State. Now I’ve got to build up my new animal practice to keep the ranch going.”

He nodded and looked beyond the cottonwood trees, their newly bursting leaves rustling against a blue Wyoming sky. “That’s a tall order for one gal. Your folks don’t live here?”

“My Aunt Frieda does, in a loft over the garage. She was a great help to my mom after my dad moved out... and then after Mom passed away this year.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

Her throat tightened in that discomforting way it did when she was reminded. “It was her heart… We were all taken by surprise.”

They approached a one-story outbuilding among the pines, its exterior more in need of a coat of paint than Kimberly had realized. “Looks like Charlie cleaned the windows,” she said, opening the front screen door. “And swept the place out.” Bless you, Charlie.

She waited while Gabe glanced around the narrow main room at the quilt-covered bed and table and two slat-backed chairs.

“Who’s Charlie?” he asked.

“Our caretaker, Charlie Three Toes. He’s a Korean War vet. Been working for us about ten years.”

“Sounds like he’s a good man to have around.”

She nodded. “Charlie offered to stay after Mom died. I guess he had nowhere else to go.”

Gabe sauntered over the worn plank floor to the end of the room where there were no windows. “This could be fixed up as a dark room easy enough,” he said, glancing down at the built-in sink.

“I suppose it could. This used to be the bunkhouse for our cowhands. The bathroom has a shower.”

Gabe stepped into the bathroom and barely had room enough to turn around. He must have stood over six feet. The first possible renter had turned his nose up when he’d seen the “bathroom.” Of course, his big belly hadn’t quite fit through the doorway.

Gabe just said, “So, this was a cattle ranch?”

“Yeah, my dad raised fine beef. We had close to three hundred fifty acres then.” Kimberly gazed down at the scuffed toe of her boot. “Now it’s down to a hundred.”

Gabe’s lips pressed together. “Things change.”

“I don’t allow alcohol on the premises,” she blurted, avoiding his intent gaze. That should really chill his interest, a young robust guy like Gabe. But it was a requirement she wouldn’t back down from. Drinking always brought problems.

He made a slight gesture with his right hand. “That’s okay. I can always go into town if I want to party. What’s the rent you’re asking?”

She blew out a little breath and gave him the amount she needed to pay the monthly mortgage payment, due the first of July. Another thirty days. He stood for a moment as if weighing it out. Her mouth went dry.

“My Aunt Frieda is a great cook. I’m pretty good, too. You could take your breakfast up at the house.”

His eyes shone like lighted candles on a birthday cake. “Sounds fine. I like home cookin’.”

Strange, that flutter in her stomach. She licked her lips. “Great. I—I’ll need the first month’s rent, plus a deposit. Cash would be appreciated.” Kimberly didn’t want to end up like a county neighbor who’d taken in a lodger and he’d skipped out after writing a bad check. A handshake, all her dad ever required, wasn’t enough anymore.

“No problem.” He fished a wallet from his back pocket and pulled out a number of large bills. “This should cover it.” Looking directly into her eyes, he placed the bills into her open palm.

“Thanks.” What was it about those magnetic green eyes that made her knees go weak? Gosh, it was warm inside. “You might want to open the windows to let a breeze come through.” She patted the back of her hand to her damp upper lip and headed out the screen door.

* * *

Gabe followed Kimberly onto the front stoop, his gaze settling on slim, swaying hips. Whew! He hadn’t seen a gal so nicely put together in a long time. Attractive and smart with animals. And then, that long thick ponytail the color of liquid amber. A good-looking landlady and a great location to film his next project. His lucky break.

Tipping her chin a notch, she gazed up at him, her cinnamon-brown eyes quizzical. “Do you want to take a look around the place?”

He noticed a small dark birthmark beneath her right eye. Had she said “take a look around”? With Miss Sexy Birthmark as tour guide? Probably the best offer he’d get all day. “Sure.”

She started up the road leading toward the barn and main house. He didn’t think she meant on foot. “Hey, we can take my truck,” he offered, catching up to her.

“Great.” She ambled beside him all long-legged and smelling like sweet hay in the afternoon sun, her yellow tank top fitting snug to every curve.

When they approached the camper truck, they found Ben snoozing in the front seat. “Sorry, old boy. You’ve got to make room.” Gabe coaxed the sleepy basset into the back seat of the cab. “Just a minute, here,” Gabe said to Kimberly. He snatched the dog’s blanket off the seat and shook it sending dog hairs flying everywhere then threw it in back with Ben.

Dang. Should’ve done that before. Of course he hadn’t planned on escorting his new landlady around in his truck.

“No big deal. I’ve sat on worse things than a few dog hairs.” She blushed, laughing under her breath, and hopped onto the upholstered seat. “You can head up this road.” She glanced in a westerly direction as he put on sunglasses and turned on the ignition.

Gabe drove out of the yard and up an unpaved drive, admiring the view, clusters of pine and cottonwood. The view inside the truck was far more enticing, however. Next to him, Kimberly rested her elbow on the open window frame. His gaze beneath the tinted lenses followed the lines of her smooth, tanned shoulders downward to her feminine attributes, covered invitingly by the yellow top.

“Nice body... er, nice place you’ve got here,” he stammered. Keep your mind on business, man.

“It’s smaller now but still a challenge to keep up.” Her long eyelashes set off the dark birthmark below her right eye.

Keep up? Gabe shifted uncomfortably. If she kept glancing over at him that way, he would have trouble keeping something down. “I can imagine,” he said, forcing his eyes to focus on the road.

Ahead a gray frame building appeared to the right. A rusted out, short-bed truck was parked in front.

“Charlie lives here.” Kimberly leaned forward. “Looks like he’s home.” When Gabe pulled up, she slid to the ground and ran over to the front screen door. “Hey, Charlie, come outside and meet our new renter.”

Gabe opened his door and helped Ben jump to the ground. The dog needed some exercise after being cooped up for awhile. Ben waddled over to a nearby cottonwood, sniffed, and lifted his leg.

An older man wearing a slouch hat and faded denim coveralls came around the side of the house. The brim of his dusty hat shaded his eyes. A salt-and-pepper horsetail hung halfway down his back.

“Charlie Three Toes meet Gabe Trent,” Kimberly announced brightly. “Gabe’s a photographer and he’s going to be renting the old bunkhouse.” Charlie extended his work-worn hand and gave Gabe’s a firm shake.

Before Gabe could say, “Pleased to meet you,” a sudden chattering noise and a blur of fur appeared behind Charlie. Gabe’s head jerked back. Two young raccoons, chasing each other, scampered from the side of the house into the front yard.

A few feet away, Ben stood by the tree. The raccoons headed directly toward him, their beady black eyes glistening. Ben’s long ears lifted two inches. Just as one of the critters leaped onto his back, he let out a surprised howl.

“Bandit! Scooter!” Charlie Three Toes called.

“They must have snuck out of the shed,” Kimberly exclaimed.

Ben tore off into the trees, the coons on the chase, using him for an awkward, trotting springboard.

Gabe sprinted after the three musketeers. “Hey Ben!”

Heading for a dense thicket of scrub oak, Ben ignored his call. The pursuers followed close behind, their striped tails flicking.

When Gabe and Kimberly caught up, the coons parted company. One dived into a sprawling scrub oak. The other continued the chase.

Kimberly yelled, “There he is!”

In unison, Gabe and Kimberly dived for the scrawny critter in the bush. Bodies collided. Prickly oak limbs cracked. “Ouch!” Kimberly groaned.

Charlie Three Toes circled the bush, holding a large fishing net at the ready.

Gabe went back onto his haunches. “I think I’ve got him!” He reached into the middle of the bush and grasped the small furry body. Squirming and squawking, the masked coon bounded from Gabe’s hold.

Charlie swung the net in a downward arc, capturing the coon. The net’s rim grazed Gabe’s left eyelid.

“Ahhh!” Gabe touched the smarting injury tenderly.

“Got him,” Charlie announced, wrestling with the tumbling net.

Kimberly crawled to her feet and dusted herself off. “Gabe, are you okay?”

No, he wanted to say. His eye hurt like hell. But between the chattering coon and Ben’s rasping bark, no one could have heard him. He shook his head and scrambled out of the entangling bush. “Where’s the other one?”

“He’ll come along,” Charlie called over his shoulder, “when he sees his brother going back to the shed.” Holding a large gloved hand over the top of the net, he headed toward the house. The imprisoned raccoon glared at them, one small front paw escaping through the mesh, clawing at thin air.

A gust of wind blew grit into Gabe’s face and lifted Kimberly’s ponytail like a fan off the back of her neck. His eye watered. Kimberly came over to him, scratches up and down her lovely bare arms. “Let’s go back to my place and I’ll give you something to fix your eye.”