It drove him out of the house, which was likely what he should have done in the first place. He’d let Spike out for his morning patrol, and the dog trotted up to tell him all was well. Willow trailed after them as Zach grabbed a bale and approached the corrals. Opening the gate, he dropped the bale inside, and pulled off his gloves. He dropped them on the ground at his feet and pulled his knife out of his pocket to cut the bale strings.
Willow reached through the gate to nab a glove. She sucked the entire thing into her mouth and wandered back out with only the tip of the finger showing past her lips. She wiggled her ears, a sure sign of donkey hilarity.
Spike dutifully collected the remaining glove and protectively stood over it.
Zach went through a lot of gloves. He sighed, shut the gate, and pulled the bale apart, spreading it into two piles. Tucker wandered over right away. As usual, Storm stayed at the far end of the paddock. Her heavy forelock trailed down her face, and she shook it sideways to regard him with her one eerie blue eye. Strange how she used that one more often than the regular dark brown one. It added emphasis to her stare.
Perhaps that was why she did it.
Last night she stood guard over him while he dissolved. Had something shifted in her regard for him? Or was it just a response to the stress she’d sensed?
Something in that gaze—Zach straightened.
She continued to stare at him. But her ears weren’t flattened. They were pricked forward. And then she stepped toward him.
One step. Two.
Zach had to work to stay loose and relaxed. He was naturally a restless kind of person. When he trained the horses, he cultured an inner calm that often wasn’t easy for him.
Tucker ignored them, burying his head in his breakfast. Distracted by the food, there was no guarantee the gelding would intercede if she decided to go for Zach. And she was coming. His gaze scanned her body language as his mind touched her emotions. The pricked ears, the position of the head and neck, mirrored hercuriosity. Her lack of fear.
The mare’s steps were steady and sure. She walked straight to Zach, stopped a few feet away, and then stretched her neck, extending her nose to sniff his face.
Her breath was warm, and her whiskers tickled his skin. Ever so slowly, Zach extended a hand. She cautiously pulled away and blew a soft snort through her flexible nostrils. Then she swung her head back his way to sniff the fingers.
Storm shook her mane and walked past him to the hay, leaving Zach wide-eyed with wonder. He’d been struggling to get through to this mare, with no success.
Turns out, he’d just needed to prove he was just as vulnerable as her.
11
Jessie emerged from the bathroom with resolve in her heart.
The first thing she did was call her supervisor at the hospital. It was flattering how upset and relieved the woman was. She told Jessie to take as much time as she needed. Even with being gone for three weeks, she had sick time remaining as well as holiday pay. Her work shifts would be waiting when she was ready to return.
With step one achieved, Jessie then called her bank and ordered a new debit card. She was fortunate that she only brought the bare minimum with her to work in the small fanny pack. She couldn’t carry anything with her during her rounds, and the lockers were regular targets for thieves. So she’d only lost her driver’s license and debit card.
Driven by a need to return her life to normal, she dressed and called a cab. She still had a few hours before dark. And she intended to make the most of them.
The cab came within twenty minutes, and she took it to the bank to pick up her new card. The next stop was an insurance outlet where she got a temporary driver’s license. Finally, she had the taxi take her to a car rental place. Where she winced at the rates and rented a compact car.
Her insurance on her missing vehicle would likely cover the rental, but she wasn’t waiting to get that sorted out. She needed mobility. Now.
Would the police ever find her beautiful car? The thought of it crumpled somewhere angered her. Damn Troy and Braden to hell. They’d taken far too much from her.
Gritting her teeth, Jessie pointed the car to Winnipeg’s largest camping and hunting supply store. In Canada, it was illegal to carry anything that might be used as a weapon, even if you only intended it for personal protection. She couldn’t just walk in and buy a firearm without being licensed. Which was fine with her. She’d no clue how to operate a gun. She’d probably end up shooting the neighbor’s cat. Or, more likely considering the hunting accidents that came through emergency, her foot.
Moments after entering the store, she had four cans of bear spray in her basket and stared through the glass display case at the hunting knives. She had no idea what to buy.
“Can I help you?” A man with a substantial gut approached her. If he did any hunting, he spent more time on a quad than on foot.
“I need a knife.”
“What kind of knife?” His brown eyes assessed her.Judgedher.
It pissed her off. “If I knew that, I wouldn’t be asking you.”
Her snark rolled right off him. “What are you using it for?”
