Spencer's eyes darkened dangerously, and I realized I'd finally triggered saintly Dr. Spencer's anger. It was rare—I could count on one hand the number of times I'd seen Spencer truly furious, and this was definitely one of them. He went from soft, cuddly lumberjack to vengeful Viking in two seconds flat, and his dark eyes took on a shadowed rage that gave my heart a dangerous trill. Then his gaze flitted over Spets, and the restrained fear in them actually caused a smile to split my frozen features. Pissed? Yes. Enough to chase down a horse? Not Spencer.
Then I was off, pushing Spets into a canter and laughing darkly to myself. Okay, yes, it was reckless and probably annoyingly illogical to be out in these temperatures, but damn, it did feel good to be out of the house. And thwarting Spencer was just an added bonus. He was always so calm, so collected and blasé, it was a rush of pure endorphins just to leave him standing behind me, speechless and completely enraged. He owned the ranch for now, but he sure as hell didn't own my choices.
Then again, my choices were objectively kind of stupid. As I led Spets down the icy, shoveled drive, the sun slipped behind a thick blanket of clouds, and it might as well have dunked me in an ice bath. I started to shiver when we reached Jay's cottage, and Spets grew more restless, tugging at the reins in uncharacteristic nervousness as I neared the forest tree line.
I glanced up at the rolling gray sky, and my heart squeezed with fear over the idea of getting caught in a blizzard. Of course, I couldn't get anxious about thunderstorms like normal people—I had to get all jittery when it snowed, which was absurd when I lived in Park City. But visions of a swirling whiteout and numbing cold assaulted my thoughts, and I had to physically shake them away. My gloved fingers shook as I held the reins loosely, and it wasn't the cold.
I turned back, keeping an eye on the weather conditions and apologizing with quiet murmurs to Spets for the lack of satisfying exercise. As I headed back, my breathing tightened, and I recognized the symptoms of bronchospasms as pressure built in my chest. Which… fuck. The beginnings of remorse had sprouted by the time I made it back to the stall barn. Breathing had become an actual chore, and as snow drifted down in tight crystals, I started to cough violently again.
Spencer was going to gloat so much, it would be intolerable.
With a groan, I slid off Spets clumsily, and coughing tightly into my sleeve, I led him back into the heated stall barn. Jay met me, grinning and dusting off his pants from where he'd been fixing a loose hinge on one of the stall doors. "How was it?"
I coughed hard, and black spotted my vision, but I gave him a smile anyway. "It was good."
Spets made a horsey grunt that sounded suspiciously like a derisive snort. I glanced at my horse in consternation, and Jay took the reins from me. "I can get him rubbed down for you. You got a call from the Carpenters again if you feel up to a house call."
Jay really was not great at reading the room. I was certain Ilookedlike hell, and even as I hacked into my arm and slumped away from him and Spets, my ranch hand didn't seem to notice that I wasn't likely to make any house calls. Maybe I always looked like shit, though, so who knew. I turned to open the gatefor Jay to lead Spets into his stall, and a shadowed form in the corner of my eye made me jump.
Spencer leaned against a stall across from us, his enormous arms crossed and his expression thunderous. Jay noticed him the same time I did, but Spencer kept his sharp gaze trained on me. "Jay, do me a favor."
"Yeah?" Jay asked, scratching under his baseball cap.
"Take that horse for a walk and give me five minutes withDr. Rook." Fear and an odd sort of anticipation surged through my veins, which made no sense because what was there to be afraid of with Spencer? For that matter, what was there to anticipate? I couldn't understand my body's frozen reaction to Spencer's presence until he added darkly, "She wants me to chase her."
Chapter twenty-one
Arabella
The grip of fear around my heart tightened, and I exhaled hard enough to contract my ribs. Jay split a look between us. "Uh, what?"
Spencer rotated his stormy gaze to my ranch hand, causing Jay to visibly flinch. Barely moving his mouth, Spencer said, "Now."
Jay, to his credit, did swing a questioning glance my way, but I didn't think a row with Spencer in front of a curious audience was the wisest course of action. I nodded to Jay. "I didn't… get very far. Turn him out for a bit."
Shrugging, Jay led Spets back out of the barn and in the direction of the long paddocks. I swallowed against a dry throat but managed to pick up my chin and adopt an unconcerned stance when I gave Spencer my attention again. The effect was immediately ruined by a bone-rattling cough that startled a graying donkey a few stalls behind me.
Spencer watched me in furious silence. When I finished, he checked his watch. "How much of a head start do you want?"
I let my cough stutter into a laugh. "No point, is there? I'm back now. Relax, Doc."
"Ten seconds?" He glanced up in thought. "You can barely stand. Might need to give you a full thirty."
"Oh, very funny," I said with acerbic sarcasm. Gathering my bravery, I folded my arms and strode past him, my muscles tense and wondering if he was going to cart me off like he had the other day. As impressive as his strength was, I didn't fancy a long, uncomfortable stroll over his rock-hard shoulder.
"If I catch you, I'm sitting on you," he said, right as I passed. I turned to scowl up at him. He looked deadly serious. "And you're not getting off the couch for the rest of the day."
My eyes narrowed to slits. "Sit on me?"
"All day."
One of my slitted eyes twitched. "That's a bluff. You hate sitting still."
"I love sitting." He glanced at his watch again. "Especially if it's on you. Five, four…"
I kept walking, turning so I was going backward at a cautious crawl. "This seems counterproductive if you're—"
"… three, two…"
