Colt grinned, his eyes glittered, and Mason’s heart did a little flip in his chest.
Fortunately, they’d reached the first pasture closest to the main barns, beyond the medical pastures, so Mason had something to think about other than how sexy Colt was—and granny serial killers.
Colt hopped out of the truck and opened the first gate for Mason to drive through, and then Mason waited while he closed that one, walked ahead of the truck, and opened the second gate. All the pastures had a laneway between them that they used to guide the horses either from one pasture to another or all the way down to the medical barn, when they needed care or for their regular hoof trimming, deworming, and vaccinations.
The mustangs came down from the ridgeline—some walking, some trotting, and a few galloping. A few mustangs came close and snatched the hay from the truck bed or treats from Mason’s hand.
This herd was from the most recent auction down in Cañon City, where Colt had come with him. Even in this short amount of time, most of them seemed a little more relaxed, with room to move, the land quiet, and food abundant. Soon, he would move them to a larger pasture with some more horses and, eventually, out with the big herd.
Colt’s voice carried to his ears on the gentle morning breeze. He looked over his shoulder to see one of the braver mustangs taking a chunk of hay from Colt’s outstretched hand as Colt spoke softly. Mason didn’t hear the words, but his tone was soothing and encouraging. The smile on his face about melted Mason to the spot.
Colt glanced over at Mason, and he saw pure joy in the man’s expression. His heart swelled in his chest. There was nothing sexier to him than seeing a big tough cowboy so kind and gentle with an animal. That was the sign of a good and pure soul, as far as he was concerned. If only more people were that way. It took nothing away from anyone to show a little kindness and respect. Toallbeings.
A crooked smile tugged at the edge of Mason’s mouth as warmth spread throughout his body. Not anI want to jump your boneskind of warmth, but anI love you more every minutekind of feeling.
Colt tilted his head. “What?”
Mason shook his head and then tipped his chin toward the truck. “Let’s go.”
The next pasture they went into was the senior mustang enclosure, and as always, the old boys wandered toward them. They threw leaves of hay around a clearing, spread out far enough that no one had to argue over their stash.
Romeo came right up to Mason and pulled a mouthful of hay from the bundle he had in his arms. Mason chuckled.
“Impatient old man, aren’t you?”
Once he and Colt had spread all the hay out for the boys, Mason gave them all a good look over. He frowned.
“What is it?” Colt asked.
“Something isn’t right with Lancelot’s eye.” Mason pointed to a big red chestnut that had one eye closed and discharge seeping from it.
He grabbed a few treats from the bucket in his truck and approached Lancelot slowly. Lancelot lifted his head and watched, chewing on his hay, and took a step closer when he saw what Mason held in his hand. While Lancelot happily nibbled on the homemade carrot cookie, Mason rubbed his hand over Lancelot’s strong jaw and then moved to carefully inspect his eye. He lifted the lid and took a closer look. He noticed a small white dot on his cornea. He let the lid close and gave Lancelot another cookie before stepping away.
“Looks like he might have a corneal ulcer,” Mason said to Colt. “We’ll need to bring him in and get the vet here.”
Colt followed as Mason went back to the truck for a rope and a handful of fresh carrots.
“What can I do to help?” Colt asked.
“Do you mind driving my truck back to the barn while I walk him down?”
“Yes, I do,” Colt said, his voice firm and his eyebrows lowered. “You’re not going to walk back by yourself. It’s not safe.”
Mason sighed. He hated the reminder that he couldn’t fully relax and go about his day, especially on his own damn ranch.
“I’ll be fine,” he snapped, his ire spiking at the situation. “It’s wide-open here, and the dogs will be with me.”
“Not happening.” Colt shook his head as he pulled his phone from his back pocket. “I’m walking with you. One of my brothers can come and get your truck.”
Colt watched in wonder as a wild horse followed Mason into the laneway like a puppy dog, encouraged along by the promise of fresh carrots and alfalfa. By the time they were safely in the laneway and Colt had moved Mason’s truck out of the pasture, Wes had arrived with Dion so the two of them could drive both vehicles back to the yard.
Wes hopped out of the driver’s side while Dion exited the passenger side and came around to meet Colt.
“Keys are in the igni—” Colt’s cop senses kicked in at the matching somber expressions on their faces. He lowered his voice. “What happened?”
Wes glanced in Mason’s direction, where Mason waited for Colt while Lancelot grazed and the dogs sniffed around, and back at Colt.
“More vandalism,” Dion said low enough that his voice wouldn’t carry far.
