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“This house needs grandbabies in it.”
“Mother,” he snapped sharply. “Enough.”
She laughed, continuing to stir the soup. Not that Shep could really blame her for being excited that he had a new woman in his life. It had been a long time since he’d had a serious girlfriend. And Shep knew his mom secretly loved when they had girlfriends because it brought women into her life. His mother was al
so as tenacious as he was. When she wanted something, she often got it. By her own will, or by using any means necessary to make things happen her way. Knowing that, he added, “You’ll meet Emma, I promise. Just not now.”
Jenny’s lips parted to object, and in that very second, Shep’s cell phone blessedly rang in his pocket. He pulled out his phone, damn glad for the interruption, and raised the phone to his ear.
“Shep,” he said, grinning at his frowning mom.
“Shep,” Emma gasped. “Please. Come. I need you.”
Chapter 12
Minutes had felt like hours since Emma ended the phone call with Shep. Last night she’d told herself that tonight she’d spend the night alone. To think. To get her head on straight. To figure out what in the hell she was doing with him and what she wanted. She couldn’t repeat the same mistakes she’d made with Jake. But after Harper went home, and she’d come out to do the afternoon feed, she had called Shep not out of desire, affection, or anything else, but straight up fear. She was sure her stomach had made its way up into her throat as she paced the fence where Tadgh ate hay from the trough, as if nothing was out of the ordinary, when in fact, everything was entirely wrong.
In the middle of the sand ring, Bentley lay on his side, only moving every so often to lift his head and look at his belly. Emma wanted to run to him, help him, but Shep’s warning not to get close to him remained on constant replay on her mind.
“God, where are you?” She kept her phone tight in her hand, not even remembering what she had said to Shep exactly when she called, only remembering her gasp of “I need you.” She did need him, badly, and so did Bentley.
From her spot at the fence, Emma noted the sheen of sweat along Bentley’s neck. His head lifted again and he looked at her, then nuzzled his belly, obviously in pain. “Fuck this.” She planted one foot on the fence, ready to climb over, when she heard the crunch of gravel. She jerked her head left, discovering Shep’s truck barreling toward her, dust and stones flying up in the air. All her tension fled just that easily. Help was there. She lowered her foot from the fence, running toward his truck.
Shep came to a hard stop and was out of his truck a second later, leaving the door wide open, jogging toward her. “What’s happened?” he asked.
She met him halfway, grabbed onto his arms. In the strength of his gaze, the world got less scary. “It’s Bentley. Something’s wrong.”
Shep turned and examined Bentley for only a moment. “Shit.” He charged the fence, soaring over it, heading straight for Bentley. Emma’s heart squeezed; Bentley was utterly soaked with sweat, his belly lifting and falling quickly with his deep breaths. Shep dropped to one knee next to him, stroking his neck, and Bentley snorted. Emma moved closer to where they stood, grasping the wooden fence with her hands. She couldn’t take her eyes off Shep. For such a strong man, when faced with a sick animal, he was shockingly tender as he ran his hand from Bentley’s head to his belly to his hip as he moved around him.
He got behind him, giving him a firm push. “Come on, boy, you gotta get up.” He pushed harder, again and again. Bentley lifted his head, then dropped it back down. “Nah, buddy, this isn’t up for discussion. Get up.” Shep gave Bentley’s butt a hard slap then clapped his hands and yelled a couple times.
Bentley got up to his knees, and a second later fell back down on his side.
Shep’s gaze flicked to Emma. “Grab me a halter and lead, quick as you can.”
The concern in his eyes, even the tightness in his voice, told Emma how serious of a situation this was. She took off running into the barn, grabbing the halter and lead from the hook on Bentley’s stall door, then hurried back to them. “Here,” she called from the fence.
“Bring it to me,” Shep grunted, shoving his arms underneath Bentley, trying to rock him onto his feet.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Come. Now.” Shep grunted again, pushing against Bentley’s shoulder, all but trying to lift him to his feet. Bentley being likely twelve hundred pounds or more, that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.
Emma exhaled deeply then slid through the wooden bars of the fence, moving toward them.
“Put the halter on him,” Shep instructed. “We need to get him on his feet. He’s colicking, and if he stays down, he’s going to die.”
So many thoughts rushed through her mind. One, Bentley couldn’t die. That would mean the first abused animal she took in died. Which also meant she failed. No goddamn way. Two, the last time she put a halter on this horse, he’d sent her to the hospital. Though as she reached his head, staring into his soft black eyes, the cold fear vanished. Bentley was hurting, and he needed her.
She breathed deep then did what both Shep and Bentley needed her to do; she slid the halter onto his head, buckling it up then clipping on the lead. “What now?” she asked.
Shep dropped to both knees now, sliding his arms underneath Bentley’s side. “When I say so, pull as hard as you can.” He wiggled a bit more, getting good leverage. “On three.” His steady gaze held hers, making her almost believe she could do anything. “Ready?”
She wrapped the rope around her hand, digging her heels into the dirt. “Ready.”
“One.”
Something pulled her then, a connection that had her glancing back into Bentley’s eyes. God, she remembered when those soft eyes fooled her into trusting him before. Though now, in their black beauty, she saw what Bentley must have seen in her before. She trusted no one when she first touched him, maybe that’s why he couldn’t trust her and had been scared. Her heart reached for him, this large, kind creature who she and Shep saved together.
