All the other horses looked healthy. That was the only thing that gave her hope.
Two men stepped out of the house and stood on the porch, staring at her. She studied the older man, guessing he was her grandfather. Graying brown hair and mustache, taller than she expected, her grandfather probably topped out at six feet. The old man stood tall and proud. She liked that about him. He wore worn jeans and brown cowboy boots. She should have known. Ranch and all. His chambray shirt was neatly pressed, and he wore a black down vest to ward off the chill.
The other man’s rugged good looks sparked something deep inside her. A bit taller than her grandfather and much younger—not quite thirty if she guessed right. His face was as tan as her grandfather’s. He wore pretty much the same attire: jeans, shirt, black boots, and a heavy, shearling-lined denim jacket. His hair was mostly brown, though the sun brightened the dark mass with gold streaks that made the color shift and change with the waning light.
Something about him pulled at her. Yes, he was probably the most gorgeous man she’d ever laid eyes on, but that isn’t what drew her in. No, it was the way he leaned against the porch post with such casual ease and patience, like he’d wait all day for her to come to him. Funny, she felt like doing just that, laying her head on his broad chest and snuggling into the comfort and warmth she saw in his dark eyes.
Stupid. You’re here to give Justin a good life, not fall for a cowboy.
Chapter 5
Blake stepped out the front door and stood beside Bud on the porch. He surveyed the red ’57 Chevy stepside truck in the driveway. He liked her taste in trucks. Old and scarred, but it had good tires. The engine purred before Gillian cut it. Definitely a good sign. She took care of her truck. With a little work and some money, she could have a killer classic.
Gillian got out of the truck, slowly, cautiously, and limped to the walkway leading to the porch. A brace covered her leg from her ankle up to her hip. A hinge on the metal bars along the sides kept her knee in a permanent slight bend that made her walk unevenly. She tried to walk on her toes, but she couldn’t seem to put her weight on them, which made her hobble even more.
A little bit of a thing. What he could see of her, that is. Honey blonde hair disappeared into the back of the oversized man’s jacket that engulfed her slight frame. The aviator sunglasses covered her eyes but didn’t hide all of the bluish-green bruises on her cheek and along her jaw on the left side of her face. The bastard. Look what that asshole’s fist had done to her beautiful face. Every drop of sadness wrung from his soul settled in the pit of his stomach for this waif of a woman. So much so that the sorrow engulfed him in a wave that rocked him and nearly sent him to his knees.
The first glimpse of her made everything inside Blake come to attention. The damage to her face sent a flash of fury through his veins that surprised him. He banked the rage quickly enough and felt his heart warm with something he’d never felt. The damn thing wanted to jump out of his chest and drop at her small feet. What the hell was wrong with him?
His parents had been married for more than thirty-five years, and he always thought of them as a one-in-a-million kind of couple. They were happy together. The kind of happy that had his father whistling in the barn early in the morning and his mother smiling over the dirty dishes as she cleaned his plate. It was the kind of love that had them snuggling on the couch, catching a movie, and his father stealing a kiss. Over and over he’d heard them tell the story of how they’d met at a Fourth of July picnic. Love at first sight. Blake had always rolled his eyes. Yeah, right.
His father had told him once that when he found the right woman, she’d stop him in his tracks. Yeah, well, he couldn’t move now. He couldn’t stop staring at her. Looking at Gillian, with her beaten face, the defensive edge to her posture, and the distance she kept between them, he didn’t know how to begin to get her to trust him. But he already knew he’d work damn hard at it, because the compulsion to protect her overwhelmed him.
This other stuff swirling in his chest and gut, he didn’t know what to make of it.
He wondered if this was how his big brother, Gabe, felt the first time he met his girl, Ella. She’d been in bad shape too, but that hadn’t stopped Gabe from protecting and falling in love with her. In fact, it sparked everything.
Maybe that’s all this was, his inner need to protect someone who needed protecting.
Against who? Her father is dead. You just want her.
Yep. That simple and that complicated. Because wanting her meant putting his personal and professional life with Bud and the ranch on the line. Not an option.