“That girl is about five-foot-nothing and weighs as much as a fairy. In her condition, she couldn’t defend herself against a fly. The two of you standing up here towering over her must have looked like a lot of muscle to get through. She doesn’t know you, and you stood up here like giants waiting to eat her up. Go over there and invite her in. Give her space, but get her in the door. She’s got to be tired, hungry, and hurting. For God’s sake, I swear you two don’t use the brains God gave you.”
It was just the kick in the butt they needed. Dee had a way of getting them to do things, and it was usually her voice that rang with reason. Blake decided that if he was going to get Gillian to stay so that he could decipher the strange new pulse in his chest, he’d better go and introduce himself.
He’d tamed timid wild horses. Something about him calmed them. Maybe it would work with her.
Yeah, right. Like she’d trust him if he coaxed her into the house with a soft tone and soothing words. He cocked his head and studied her. Worth a try.
“Let me go get her,” he suggested. “I’ll be the mediary, just like the doctor.”
Dee gave him a knowing smile, her eyes going soft on him. In all the time she’d known him, he’d never dated anyone special. Never more than a couple months before it fizzled out. He never brought a woman to the ranch. Lately, he spent all his time with his beloved horses. He got them. Women, not so much.
But he wanted to understand Gillian.
He crossed the yard and came to the fence about ten feet from her. Give her space. Don’t get too close, or you’ll spook her. Just like he’d approach the horse standing several feet from the fence.
“Gillian.” At the sound of his voice, the boy clenched his arms tighter to her and buried his face in her neck. Blake hadn’t even gotten a good look at him. “I’m Blake Bowden. I’m part owner, head trainer, and manager here at the ranch.”
Her wary eyes remained on him. She leaned back to take a step away, but stopped herself at the last second. If she felt she needed more space, he’d give it to her. For now.
He took a step back and waited.
“It’s nice to meet you.” Her words came out soft and tentative. “This is Justin. He’s not feeling well.” She rubbed her cheek on the top of Justin’s head. She pressed her hand to the boy’s forehead, checking for a fever. If the boy was sick, they should get him into the house.
“Dee has supper ready. Why don’t you come inside for dinner?” He kept his voice soft and low. Her tense body, ready to flee, relaxed. Just a fraction, but he’d take it.
“I should get our things from the truck. Will we be staying there?” She tilted her head to indicate the building off to the right of the stables.
“That’s the bunkhouse where some of the guys stay. You’ll stay in the main house with your grandfather and Dee.”
“Who’s Dee?”
“His wife. Dee has been married to your grandfather for about five, six years. She’s nice. You’ll like her. She keeps Bud and me in line. She’s the best cook around, but don’t tell my mom I said that.” He smiled, but it fell away when she swayed. “You want me to take him? He must be heavy, and you look worn out.”
“No!” Justin held on tighter.
Gillian took three steps back. “Stay away. I’ve got him.”
Blake held up his hand, letting her know he had no intention of touching her or the boy. “He’s all yours. You go on up to the house. Get settled. I’ll bring in your stuff.”
“I can get it.”
“I know you can. My mother raised me right. No way I let you carry the bags. I’ll take care of your luggage, you take care of him.”
With a deep breath and a resigned look in her eyes, she admitted, “I’d appreciate the help. There’s only my purse, a couple of boxes, and two bags. Um, and an envelope from the doctor. Medical records,” she explained, as if her appearance wasn’t sufficient.
“I’ll get them and meet you inside.”
“You’ll probably beat me,” she said with a self-deprecating tilt to her lips.
“Can you make it?” He didn’t think she could, but he’d let her try. If she faltered again, he’d help her whether she liked it or not. He hated seeing anything hurt. The horses were the worst, but she broke his heart. Everything in him knew he’d see only pain if she took off those sunglasses. Tense, she held herself together with the last shreds of her energy. The longer this took, the paler she became, making the bruises on her face stand out even more vividly. What the hell was she hiding under that oversized coat? He didn’t want to know, because whatever it was, it couldn’t be good.