Operation Mustang [The Service Club 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage and More) (8 page)

* * * *

Work always helped Mustang get her head straight. She took a few minutes to do a quick cleanup of herself in the downstairs bath, grabbed her walkie-talkie from the charging station on the hallway table, and headed out the back door. Surprisingly enough, Diek and Lucky had listened to her in the kitchen when she all but ordered them out of her house and onto the ranch. Then again, she was their boss. At least there were some things she didn’t have to fight them about.

The fact that they listened set her to wondering. Could she really have everything she wanted after all without putting everything she was, everything she possessed in jeopardy? If only that were truly the case. What would it feel like to stop fighting, to stop worrying and simply allow herself to feel? She’d done it last night, but only for a while. She’d been certain she’d be safe even if it meant fighting a harder battle come morning.

And she’d gotten caught. Someone knew. Someone had seen her.

“Want some company?”

Her step faltered at the slow, lazy drawl delivering the offer. She spun around. Her narrowed gaze landed on Gunner. He stood with one knee bent, his booted foot propped on the wall of the house behind him. A sprig of hay stuck out of the corner of his mouth, bobbing up and down as he gave it a leisurely chew. Her attention dropped to skim his solid T-shirt tucked into drool-worthy Wranglers. Like Diek, it didn’t matter if he went for Navy fatigues or blue jeans, the man was still heart-stopping and gorgeous from his Stetson to his boots.

And you’re cowgirl-hat-over-your-own-boots in love with them all
.

Yeah, she was, and thinking about it now wasn’t gaining her a bit of ground in getting her head straight.

“Don’t you have something to do?”

Gunner tossed the sprig of hay on the ground and straightened. He hooked his thumbs in the pockets of his jeans as he swaggered toward her. “Can’t think of anything, seeing as how you didn’t give me anything to do when you were dishing out orders in the kitchen a bit ago.”

Mustang turned and started walking again. “You don’t work for me.”

Shit, shit, double shit, why didn’t she think about that before now? Sidestepping Lucky and Diek didn’t take a lot of fancy footwork during ranching hours. She could easily send them clear off on the other side of the property at sunrise and not have to deal with them again before sunset. Gunner was apparently a whole different line dance.

“I’m here, able, and bored. If you’ve got something you want done, lay it on me.” He shot her a look filled with innuendo and mischief.

Mustang refused to touch that comment with a ten-foot pole. She could think of a number of things she wanted to lay on him. Herself being the first, damn it. A hard right hook to his chiseled jaw would be another.

“I suppose you could talk with Chester, see what kind of work he has for you to do while you’re here. We’ll pay you, of course.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

She stopped at the door of the barn and looked back at him over her shoulder. “It will be if you’re working this ranch. Nobody works for free around here.”

He nodded. “Fair enough. ’Course, I could always be your assistant.”

Laughter concocted of equal parts hilarity and insanity bubbled in her throat. “I don’t need an assistant, Gunner.” She needed space, time to get her bearings, time to find herself again. “Diek and Lucky are on the back spread. Grab a horse or take my truck, and head out there. Tell them I said to put you to work.” His lips kicked into a grin that sent a cluster of butterflies fluttering to life in her belly. “What?”

He shook his head. “You’re sexy as hell when you’re dishing out orders.”

Mustang rolled her eyes. “Please.”

“Just thinking it might not be a bad idea to try a little role reversal sometime. See what you’ve really got in you.”

The idea didn’t hold the slightest bit of appeal for her. Gunner, Diek, and Lucky might be putting her every fear on edge right along with her every desire, but she wouldn’t have them any other way. Dominance on the ranch was one thing. She knew her own mind well enough to realize she would never find satisfaction in controlling them in bed.

“What I’ve got in me right now is a million things to do and less time than I need to get them done.” Mustang pulled open the barn door. “Now, go find your brothers. We’re wasting daylight standing here jabbering.”

“Yes ma’am.” Gunner tipped the brim of his Stetson. His milk-chocolate eyes danced with amusement as he turned and sauntered away.

Mustang let the bubble of laughter pop as she entered the barn. So much for her plans of reconstructing her wall of defense today. She’d be doing good if she managed to keep the Rylon brothers from under her feet until lunchtime.

“Men are far too much trouble. You know that, Raven?” she asked as she made her way to the stall at the far end of the barn. “You should be proud to be a horse. Sometimes I wish I was instead of merely being named after your breed.” Boy, wouldn’t that solve all her problems? Mares could fuck and leave and wouldn’t be shunned by society. “You’d have your hands full if Kinger had stuck around. Take it from me. I’ve got three men just like Kinger’s daddy biting at my heels and…”

Mustang trailed off as she reached the stall. The fine hairs on the back of her neck stood on end in warning. She peered over the door, and everything inside her went cold.

Gunner glanced back at the barn, toying with the idea of following Mustang inside. He’d rather spend the day with her than working on the back spread with his brothers. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, she needed the help. She took far too much of the work around the ranch on herself, spending most of her days on the land and her nights in her office handling the paperwork. Not to mention, he’d love to spend some time alone with her. He didn’t mind sharing her with his brothers, wouldn’t think of having it any other way, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten more than ten minutes tops of her attention all to himself.

She had made a point in the past of never allowing that to happen. That past was changing now. She didn’t trust herself alone with him, with any of them. He’d always known that, just as he’d always known eventually they would get through her line of defense, one well-aimed missile at a time.

“Gunner!”

The bloodcurdling scream stopped him in his tracks. He spun around and bolted to the barn at breakneck speed. The memory of how they had left her last night, of her waking untied this morning when none of them had anything to do with it, slapped him in the face. He had a flash of icy realization. He never should’ve left her alone.

Intense training collided with the deep-set need to protect his woman, and he forced himself to slow his steps as he moved soundlessly into the barn.
I’m not armed
. Why the hell would he be in Horn Hill, Alabama, for Pete’s sake? As a Navy SEAL, he knew he had been born with all the weapons he needed. He’d been trained to take a man down with his bare hands, with the aid of his feet if necessary.

Raven’s whinny nearly mirrored Mustang’s scream. A loud bang that sounded as if the horse had rammed against the stall wall followed it. Through all the commotion, Gunner heard Mustang yelling into her walkie-talkie.

“Lucky, I need you at the barn. Hurry, something is wrong with the colt.”

Though her voice shook with fear, it sounded like music to his ears. He pulled himself from SEAL mode and picked up his pace, reaching the horse’s stall in a matter of strides.

“What’s wrong?”

Mustang was struggling to calm a frightened Raven and juggling her walkie-talkie even as she attempted to reach the floor with her free hand, to reach for the colt lying on his side. “The colt. Something is wrong with him.”

Gunner moved inside the stall, stepping carefully so he didn’t spook Raven any further. “And Raven?”

“I scared her when I screamed.”

“You calm her down.” Though he knew her concern was focused on the colt, he also knew she could settle Raven better than anyone. “I’ll see what’s up with this little guy.” He kneeled beside the colt and placed his flattened hand on the colt’s side. “His breathing is erratic. Is this how he was when you walked in?”

“Calm down, girl. I’m sorry I frightened you.”

Gunner waited as Mustang continued to soothe Raven, gently stroking the horse’s mane and talking to her softly. As he’d known, the horse calmed within seconds under her master’s touch.

Mustang turned slightly toward him, still caressing Raven as she averted her attention to the colt. “He was on his feet, but he was shaky. He tried to walk toward me when he saw me, and he collapsed.”

Gunner wasn’t a veterinarian like Lucky, but he’d been trained as a medic in the SEALs. He leaned over the colt and studied the horse’s eyes. “He’s disoriented,” he muttered more to himself than Mustang.

“He’s acting like he’s been tranquilized.” Mustang shifted hard as Raven tried to move her out of the way. “I’m going to have to take her in another stall.”

Gunner gave her a noncommittal nod as the colt attempted to stand. The horse didn’t make it halfway up before he collapsed again. “If it’s a tranquilizer, somebody gave you a helluva dose, partner.”

“I can promise you that somebody wasn’t me,” Lucky stated as he stepped inside the stall.

Gunner looked up. “I thought you and Diek were on the back spread.”

“We hadn’t made it that far yet. Woman liked to have scared me to death calling over the radio like that.”

“You should’ve heard her scream.” Gunner knew it would stay with him for a long time to come.

“He’s right, isn’t he?” Mustang pushed past Diek who stood in the doorway of the stall and fell to her knees beside where Lucky now knelt.

“Yeah, Gunner’s right.” Lucky examined the colt more thoroughly than Gunner had done, checking the colt’s heartbeat with his stethoscope and shining his penlight in the foal’s eyes. “About the tranquilizer
and
it being a helluva dose. He’ll be fine, but it’s going to be a while before it wears off. Diek, grab me a muzzle off the wall out there. I don’t want him hurting himself.”

“You think he might have a seizure?”

Gunner gave his brother points for being subtle even though he should’ve known it wouldn’t work. When a woman lived her whole life on a ranch like Mustang had, she didn’t have to be a doctor to know the signs of an overintoxicated horse.

Lucky frowned at her. “You know as well as I do, it’s possible. I’ll have to stay with him until he’s alert enough so I can watch him.”

Mustang nodded as she got to her feet. She blew a breath up her face, fluttering her bangs over her forehead. “Gunner, you were looking for something to do. You can take Lucky’s place out there with Diek.”

Back to business, Gunner thought. He wondered, not for the first time, if she ever gave herself a moment to truly feel anything. Images of last night replayed in his mind, and he hid a smile. Yeah, he supposed she did, at least when they made her.

“Yes ma’am.” He stood, brushing his hands on his jeans. “And what are you going to do?”

“Work.” Her answer came simple enough, but he didn’t miss the strain in her tone. “There’s still plenty to be done, and Lucky’s got this covered here. I won’t do much but get in his way.”

* * * *

Mustang fully intended to work, though her plans for the day had been greatly altered. She doubted her new definition of work was anything close to what Diek, Gunner, and Lucky expected, either. Someone had come into her room last night. Someone had tranquilized Raven’s baby colt. She aimed to find out who that someone was before sunset.

She left the barn and headed straight for her truck, figuring Chester would be the best place to start. She found him mending fences on the far side of the ranch. Thomas was with him.

“Mustang,” Chester greeted, taking off his cowboy hat and slapping it on his thigh as he walked toward her. “What brings you out this way?”

Mustang propped an elbow on the hood of her truck and regarded her foreman. Sweat beaded on his bushy gray brows. His tanned complexion was reddened by heat and exertion. He moved quickly for a man of his age, but she couldn’t say he moved easily. Each step revealed the arthritis setting in his bones. She didn’t want to think it, but her gut feeling told her if she had him another ten years, it would be a gift from God.

“As it happens, you do,” she told him when he reached her. “Can you take a break for a minute, and let’s talk?”

“I reckon I can spare a couple.” He put his cowboy hat on the hood and raked a withered hand through his wiry gray hair. “What’s on your mind?”

Mustang pushed a hard breath from her lungs, dreading what she had to say, what it meant she would be revealing.
But it has to be done
. “Some things have happened since last night.”

Chester nodded. “I know somethin’ happened at the horse barn this mornin’. Heard you callin’ for Lucky over the radio.”

Mustang told him about the colt, how she’d found it stumbling around until it fell over, how Gunner and Lucky agreed the horse had been tranquilized.

Anger flashed in Chester’s soft brown eyes. “Coulda killed that colt. ’Specially if the dose was too much, like you say.”