Dog Wood Bride by Jillian Hart

Author:Jillian Hart
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2019-09-17T04:00:00+00:00

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Well, that corner post went in well, nice and straight. Sturdy as heck. Good thing, since his arm hurt with every movement he made. He did his best to ignore that.

Brennan whipped his hat off and swiped sweat from his forehead with his shirt sleeve. He took a look around. The wild pinto mare watched him out of the half door of her stall as he reached for his water jug and upended it over his head.

Coolish water sluiced over his face, neck and shoulders. It felt good, darn good, and he finished off the jug with a long drink. He swallowed the last drop. The mare was still watching him intently.

"Do you want some too, girl, are you thirsty?"

The mare didn't so much as blink an eyelid but merely watched him with curiosity.

"I imagine it's getting warm in that barn." He set down the jug and plopped his hat back on his head.

He meant to wander over to her when a shadowed blur of movement deep in the meadow snared his attention.

Fear leaped into his bloodstream as he recalled the tracks in the field and the gunshot hitting his arm. Was it Judson? Adrenaline kicked through him. His hand flew to the walnut grip of his holstered revolver.

But when he looked again, he saw a dark shadow emerge from the shade of the woods, far too large and shaped too different to be a man.

The black stallion.

The wild mustang froze when he spotted Brennan watching him. The horse peered over the distance of the meadow. Wary, intelligent eyes watched unblinkingly. Every muscle bunched, ready to dart away at the slightest sign of aggression.

"Welcome, fella." Brennan didn't dare move. "You're safe with me. I'm not gonna hurt ya."

The stallion stood frozen, as if debating the merits of that soft-sounding voice. Finally, the mustang nickered in the direction of the barn.

The mare answered and bumped against the closed half-door. She shook her head up and down in frustration and whinnied, scenting the wind.

"Easy, there, pretty girl." He pitched his voice into a deep, rumbling drawl. "You want to stay calm. You don't want to tear open your shoulder by jumping over that door."

She whinnied again, calling to her stallion with a note of desperation. Hard not to care about that. The stallion nickered back, low and reassuring. He wouldn't be going far.

Something told Brennan he never really did. He took a step toward the wild horse. Slow going, one boot step at a time, because he refused to scare off the stallion. He just wanted to establish communication.

"Hey, there, handsome fellow." He kept walking, hands out and non-threatening, letting the animal size him up. "Don't you worry. I'm taking good care of the mare. Right now she's lucky with no infection in her wound. She'll be okay. I'm not hurting her."

The stallion walked back a few steps, torn between trust and experience.

"I know you've been coming close to keep an eye on her." He took another slow step. "I know you and your herd come eat and drink at the feeder over there.

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