Somebody's Angel (#5 in a Military Romance / BDSM Romance series) (Rescue Me) (26 page)

Luke’s smoky-gray eyes darkened. “O’Keeffe came here two weeks ago. It’ll take months to erase some of the effects of the physical abuse she’s been through and even longer for the emotional wounds to heal. Her former owners crushed her spirit. She’s afraid of her own shadow now.”

“How can anyone be so cruel?”

“Search me. I’m just glad the mustang rescuers found out about her and got her out of that situation. It’s not too late to turn things around for her. It may be years before I can ride her and use her for search-and-rescue operations, but right now, I’m just content getting her to eat with me standing close by. We’ve made a helluva lot of progress in a short time.”

Angelina reached up and tugged at his denim shirt collar to bring his face closer to hers, giving him a peck on the cheek.

“What’s that for, darlin’?”

“I thought you were just out here hiding from something or working on your furniture and play equipment, but it’s a good thing you’re doing here, Luke. You have a way with skittish fillies.”

He laughed. “Well, the four-legged variety maybe.”

She wondered what he meant as they walked out of the barn and squinted in the bright sunlight reflecting off the snow-covered ground. He and Marc had certainly taken good care of her shaky spirit the night Allen attacked her in her home. Luke draped a protective arm over her shoulders as they ambled toward the house in companionable silence.

Was he dating someone? She hoped so.

She hoped he’d find someone to love again soon. His wife had been dead a long time. He deserved to find someone else. Lord knows the man had a lot to offer someone special.

There’d been a brief time when Angelina thought she and Luke might be a possibility, until a certain Italian Dom took her into her bedroom and showed her where her heart, mind, and body belonged.

She blinked back the sting of tears, refusing to let any more spill over thoughts of Marc. He was a good man, too. She hoped Luke was right and that he’d figure out what was going on soon so they could get back together.

Gunmetal gray clouds appeared to be dumping snow on Cassie’s cabin at Iron Horse Peak right about now. Not that she would mind. Cassie preferred her isolated existence to being with people. Angelina had no doubt she was well-stocked and able to outlast any amount of snowfall.

Just before they entered the house, a sudden thought occurred to her. “How’d O’Keeffe get her name?”

Luke paused, holding the door open for her before turning his attention to the same mountain peak. She saw a longing in his expression she hadn’t noticed before.

“She reminded me of someone.”

Interesting. Angelina smiled. Well, if ever there was a skittish filly for Luke to love and help to heal, it would be Cassie. He certainly was a rescuer at heart. Maybe Angelina could help bring the two of them together. He might also help the reclusive artist reconnect with her long-buried playful side. Karla said she used to be fun-loving and carefree. Luke didn’t take himself or anything seriously. He was also a rock-solid man with a firm but gentle hand and a big heart. Perfect to help Cassie recover the parts of herself she’d lost.

* * *

Luke took Angel’s elbow and guided her up the steps and inside the house, feeling a shiver course through her. Why had she come outside wearing nothing but a flannel shirt and jeans? He wasn’t dressed much warmer, but he was used to the strong winds whipping down from the mountain pass.

He glanced once more up at Iron Horse before following Angel inside. He’d tried a couple of times since Adam’s cougar attack to get Cassie to notice he existed, but she seemed hell-bent for leather on running from him as far and as fast as she could. Once at Adam’s, she’d opened up a bit about her love of art, which at least gave them some common ground. He’d even gone to see one of her art exhibits in Denver, but she’d nearly had a panic attack when he walked in, as if she thought he was stalking her or something. That’s when he’d decided he’d better just steer clear of Cassie Lôpez, dream or no dream.

Maggie, you sure know how to send a guy on an impossible mission.

While he’d noticed the beautiful woman sitting across the waiting room at the hospital, it hadn’t been an appropriate place to hit on her. When his wife delivered a message loud and clear that Cassie was the angel she’d promised in a dream, he looked a little closer at the Peruvian recluse.

Not that he needed his dead wife’s help finding dates and not that he’d heard from Maggie, even in a dream, since the hospital. He just hadn’t been interested in women until recently. Cassie had some serious issues when it came to men, judging by the response he’d gotten from her when he went to her gallery opening in Denver a while back. At the moment, he had his hands full trying to get his mustang fillies to trust him.

No, he didn’t need a woman in his life to complicate matters. He’d done just fine since he’d lost Maggie. Although it sure was nice having Angel around. He watched her warming her hands by the fire he’d laid in the Buck Stove this morning. Last night, she’d prepared a feast. He never could understand how she could take the same ingredients he cooked with and turn them into such mouthwatering dishes.

What the hell was Marc’s problem? Luke hadn’t seen much of his former SAR partner since he’d moved out here, but if anyone could break through Marc’s barriers, Angel was the one. Finding out they were having problems pissed him off. Maybe he needed to have a talk with the big lug. Might help if he knew a little more about the problem.

Angel turned around to warm her backside. “Where’d you learn to play guitar?”

“An elective at UT. Maggie was taking the class, and I wanted to make a move on her.” He grinned, remembering how the woman who later agreed to be his wife had warmed up to his serenading her on dates—clothing optional.

At least Angel hadn’t found him singing in the nude.

He sat on the couch and motioned to her. “Come here, darlin’. We need to have a talk.”

She came to him without reluctance. Why couldn’t Cassie be more like Angel? Trusting. Open.

He gave himself a mental headshake. He needed to forget about Cassie. Maggie was just plain wrong about her being the one he needed—unless Maggie thought it was Cassie who needed him? Damn. How could he turn away from her if there was something he could do to help her get over her fear of men? He was pretty laid-back and non-threatening. He thought so, anyway. Cassie apparently begged to differ.

Angel sat beside him and leaned her head on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around her. “Now, tell ol’ Luke what happened to bring you out here last night?”

She sighed and paused for a while before responding. “Marc and I have been, well, having some problems. I can’t really go into what’s going on, but there’s something from his past he’s not facing.”

“Does it have to do with Gino’s death?”

“Not directly, but I’m sure that hasn’t helped any. It’s definitely something to do with his childhood and his family, especially his parents. I don’t want to divulge anything more, but until he faces the past, he’s stuck.
We’re
stuck.”

“Want me to talk to him?”

“Anything could help, I guess.”

Luke chuckled. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, baby girl.”

Angel retreated, and he saw the anguish in her eyes, which made him regret teasing her.

She blinked away the tears that filled her eyes. Damn. Not tears. He hated seeing a woman cry. “Marc is so stubborn and totally shut down emotionally. He won’t let me in.” She sniffled. “I had to leave. I couldn’t stand to watch him in so much pain while he refused to let me help.”

“Lie down.” Luke guided her to stretch out on the couch, her feet in his lap. He pulled her boots off. “Darlin’, you can’t make someone face something they don’t want to face. They have to want to do it themselves.”

He kneaded the soles of her feet, and she moaned as she closed her eyes and let him minister to her. Marc would have probably turned her over his lap and whaled the tar out of her butt until she released her anxiety, but that was neither Luke’s style nor his place. When he sent Angel back to Marc, he didn’t want his buddy to think anything improper had gone on between them. Luke’s romantic interest in the woman ended before it had started, really.

Marc and Angel were meant for each other. Didn’t take a message from Maggie in a dream or a sketch on a piece of paper to prove that.

Quit thinking about Cassie.

He pushed at a knot in the ball of her foot, and she winced. He decided to probe the knot, and Angel, a little further. “What do you plan to do, darlin’?”

She stared at him as he continued to work on the stress she was holding in her feet. “Do? Ouch!”

He grinned but didn’t let up on that tender spot. “Yeah,
do
. Marc’s stubborn. And proud. Hell, you know what Italian men are like.”

She snorted.

“You also know he’s not going to make the first move to get you two back together again.”

Angel tried to yank away from him, but he wasn’t finished with her yet and firmed his grip on her dainty foot. She squared her shoulders. “He did try to win me back once.”

Luke assumed she meant the costume-party night at the Masters at Arms Club where Marc, Luke, and Adam had helped pull a mindfuck on Angel. Luke had enjoyed the hell out of getting the woman to submit to him, even if only for a few minutes before Luke had to pass her back to his buddy where she belonged.

He ran his finger down the sole of her foot and she recoiled. Ticklish? “Why weren’t you ticklish a few minutes ago?”

“Mind over matter.”

He cocked his head and waited.

“Marc has been training me to control my response to being tickled. If I know what’s coming—or can at least see what’s happening—it’s easy. I knew what you planned to do, so I steeled my body to keep from becoming a giggling mess when you rubbed my foot.”

“But you did jump back eventually.”

“Lost my train of thought. I was remembering that costume night at the club.”

“Maybe it’s time for a little more mind over matter. Maybe this time
you’ll
need to make the first move, baby girl.”

She raised her chin higher. “Luke, I’m pretty darned stubborn, too. Until I know he’s going to deal with this issue, I’m not going to do a thing.”

Luke laughed. “
Two
stubborn Italians.”

She rolled her eyes and looked away, then grinned sheepishly when she glanced back at him. “
Dio,
help us both.”

“Ask nicely before you go to bed tonight. I’m sure He will.”

Worry returned to her big brown eyes. “You think so?”

“Reasonably certain, if He agrees it’s what’s best for you two. I want to see you two together, too. You were made for each other.”

Her chin quivered before she shored up her defenses and put up a good front. “I’m sorry I’ve put you out of your bed.”

“No worries. I spent the night out in the barn with O’Keeffe. She needs to get used to sleeping with me if we’re going to be doing rescue and other close work over long hours, or even days. I think being out there all night helped me get as far as I did with her this morning.”

Angel smiled. “I’m glad you’ve found yourself out here. You weren’t meant to be cooped up in a Denver townhouse. And giving these poor horses a place to recover and regroup, not unlike what you’re doing for me, is… Well, you’re a gentle soul with a big heart, Luke. Your parents sure raised you right.”

Luke glanced away. “I think buying this spread is the first thing my old man approved of me doing since I played football in college.” Luke had been a bitter disappointment to his dad, that’s for damned sure. The man had wanted an athletic son, but Luke had been more interested in photography, art, woodworking, and girls. He’d learned carpentry to gain his dad’s respect, which was how he’d met Marc and the others at the club. But his heart wasn’t in building cabinets. He preferred working on unique play-scene equipment for the club and other custom-carved furniture, including a bed he was working on in his workshop right now. If his dad saw him carving whimsical creatures into the headboard of a perfectly functional bed, he’d shake his head and walk away.

Angel’s cool fingers reached out to stroke his cheek, bringing him back to the present. “
I’m
proud of you, Luke. Although I could have done without you making that ‘MINE’ paddle for Marc.”

He grinned. “See? The big lug knows what he wants—he knows what’s his. He just needs a little time to get his head on straight.” Now for changing the subject. “While you’re waiting, darlin’, the way to
this
man’s big ol’ heart is through his stomach. What’s for dinner?”

“That’s a good eight hours away. I’ll surprise you.”

“No, darlin’. Where I come from, dinner’s the midday meal, followed by supper at night. I need something to tide me over for my workout with Cassatt and Picasso this afternoon in the corral. I aim to be on the back of either the mare or that gelding before I come in tonight.”

Angel swung her feet off his lap, enthusiasm showing in her eyes at the prospect of doing what she loved most. “Well, I checked your pantry last night to take stock. Pretty basic, but I think I can find something to tide you over ’til
supper
.” She padded across the braided rug to the hardwood floor. He was keeping the house warmer than he normally would because he didn’t want Angel to get cold.

She turned her head toward him as she continued to walk away. “Give me thirty minutes to rustle up some grub.” Her wink made him smile.

Marc, you’re an ass if you let this woman get away.

Chapter Thirteen