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Intentionally, Shep stopped only two feet away from the gelding. He smiled, suddenly realizing he wasn’t alone. He leaned his hand back a little, and Tadgh nuzzled him. Being protective, was he?
Shep slowly glanced up, making eye contact with Bentley. The horse stomped at the ground, snorting. Tadgh shot forward, ears pinned against his head, causing Bentley to back up against the fence. “I can handle him, Tadgh.” He patted Tadgh’s haunches, and Tadgh circled around Shep, coming back behind him.
Then Shep waited for a long while, as long as Bentley needed, keeping his gaze on Bentley’s, his shoulders back and high.
Tadgh eventually gave up and went back to eating the hay at the trough. Bentley, though, stared Shep down, never once calming, always on alert. It was now or never. Sometimes everyone needed a push, and this was Bentley’s. Slowly, Shep inched his way forward. Every time he took a step, Bentley’s head shot up higher, eyes becoming bright and alert.
Again he waited, giving Bentley the time he needed to adjust and to see he was in no danger with Shep.
Finally, and only centimeters away now, Shep held up his hand. Bentley snorted, his breath brushing over Shep’s hand. This time, he didn’t move away, and Shep smiled to himself. This wasn’t the first time Shep had dealt with a mistreated horse. Most horses sold at auction hadn’t had the best treatment in their lives. And he’d found Tadgh in a similar condition, though not as far gone as Bentley. Malnourished, untrusting, defiant, that was his Tadgh. The spirit in his horse was what first caught his eye.
Shep waited and watched, not bothering to count the minutes, as Bentley slowly stretched out his neck, giving Shep’s hand a sniff. When he didn’t move away, Shep slowly stroked the horse’s nose with his knuckles. Bentley allowed the contract for a handful of seconds, before he snorted again, then strode by him, moving to Tadgh. Shep exhaled the breath he’d been holding and grinned, turning away. A small step to some, maybe, but it was a step in the right direction. Bentley was on his way.
When he reached the fence, he climbed up and over the wooden planks, not wanting to disturb the horses. Especially since Bentley was eating the hay next to Tadgh.
The moment his boots hit dirt, Emma called, “Dinner.”
Shep glanced up to the porch, finding her leaning again the railing, arms folded. Obviously she’d been there a while. Her pretty eyes locked onto his. She was all warmth and sunshine, and she was infectious.
When he drew closer, he noticed her wide eyes. “I can’t believe he let you touch him,” she squeaked. “First a carrot, and now he’s eating hay. Oh, my God, dare I say he’s actually being a real horse.”
Shep winked. “What can I say? No one can refuse me.”
“I’d usually say something about you being arrogant here, but I actually think that might be true.” She laughed, as did he, then she winked. “In all seriousness, I wasn’t expecting you to get through to him so fast. Hell, I thought it was good he came for a walk with us and ate a carrot, let alone you ever touching him.”
“He needed a little push, is all,” Shep explained, moving up the porch steps until he stood in front of her. Compelled by her beauty, he slid his finger down her soft cheek then tucked her hair behind her ear. “He isn’t ‘the devil horse,’ as you once called him. He only needed to see that I wouldn’t hurt him. My interaction with Tadgh, and Tadgh’s calm nature, basically gave him that sense of trust he was missing.”
“So, he’s fixed?” she asked, wide-eyed.
Shep hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “Fixed isn’t necessarily the right word. He’s trusting again, and that’s a big step forward, but he’s only trusting me. That’s far from him trusting everyone.”
Softness reached Emma’s eyes, telling Shep she probably felt a little like that herself. She glanced out at Bentley and sighed. “Maybe he shouldn’t trust everyone. Like you said before, people can be cruel.”
“You’re right, they can be.” There was no denying that.
She turned to him again, the sun warming the darker green in her eyes. “But not you?”
“No, not me.”
She crossed her arms, giving him a cute puzzled look. “Are you like this with everyone?”
The soft strands of her hair caught his eye, and he slid his fingers over the ones hanging by her shoulder. “Like what, exactly?”
“So . . . invested?”
He gave a dry laugh, shaking his head. “Believe me, Emma, you are an exception to the rule.” He knew exactly what message that would send her. He also didn’t give a shit. Because Bentley wasn’t the only one who needed a push too.
This woman had him caught up. He wanted more from her, and if she’d stop being so scared, she’d see they were already on their way to something amazing. It was about time Emma stopped avoiding that particular truth.
Again she hesitated, watching him closely. Though this time everything about her became tender, trusting. “Why are you being so kind to me?”
He removed his hands from his pockets and stepped closer, sliding his hand across her warm cheek. “For this right here,” he told her simply. She melted into his touch and smiled, and his chest lightened. “I like seeing you get warm. I like seeing you smile.”
Her eyes searched his slowly, seemingly trying to piece her thoughts together, her voice quiet and small. “I feel like you’re giving more than I’m giving you.”
“Don’t do that,” he said, cupping her face. “We don’t need to overthink this. I need an escape as much as you do, and that’s what we’re giving to each other.”
Tears suddenly welled in her eyes, and her chin quivered. “I just don’t know how to thank you for staying with me after the accident . . . for what you’re doing for Bentley.” Her voice blistered. “For what you’re doing for me.”
