Pippa's Rescue Read online
Page 4
“You okay?” Basil asked Brooke when she didn’t answer his question immediately.
“Yes. The food is mostly donated. The farrier said the horses have thicker hooves after eating Healthy Edge. I can’t remember who makes it, but I’m going to recommend Pippa try and get more from the company.” As if roused from a reverie, Brooke slid the brush down the black, shiny coat of a stabled mare.
Pippa ducked behind Rock Star when Basil moved to fill the bucket, and stayed behind a stall wall as he entered the next one. She wasn’t hiding, just doing a check on the new guy to see if he fulfilled his duties, and while eavesdropping was abhorrent, curiosity as to why he didn’t badger her, trying to get information regarding David, grew stronger.
Basil had spent two nights in the house. Mattie had cleaned the rooms this morning and stated nothing appeared out of place. Had Basil lost interest in finding her brother?
“Hey, Brooke, that first day Pippa mentioned she had a sister. Where is she?”
One more stall and he’d be near Rock Star’s, where she hid. She’d have to sneak out or get caught in the act of eavesdropping. This was the very reason why she didn’t do things outside the box: she always got caught.
“I’ve never seen a sister. Only Dave,” Brooke replied.
“When was the last time you saw Dave?”
The slurp scrap of her brush stopped. Although she couldn’t see Brooke, Pippa imagined she stopped to take a break and was leaning on the stall wall. “Last summer.”
****
“Is this the horse that Pippa rode around the corral when I first arrived?” Basil walked beside the animal, carrying a bucket filled with a gold-colored food.
“Watch him,” Brooke tersely warned.
The horse shied. Food fell to the floor. Basil bent to pick it up. A heavy pungent mass broadsided him before the equine’s hindquarters flattened him against the stall wall. Knocked off balance, his head hit the trim along the top of the partition. “Shit.”
Unsteady, he stumbled from the stall and crouched. Two sets of booted feet appeared in his hazy vision. Bile rose to his throat and his head ached like a crowbar pounded on top. Behind him, he heard the horse snorting as he no doubt gobbled the feed scattered across the floor.
“Have you forgotten to make a wide circle when walking behind a horse?”
Feminine laughter vibrated through the hammering between his ears. He cautiously lifted his aching head. Pippa fumbled inside the medical belt pack she always wore around her small waist when they were outside. Lights radiated from her.
Brooke kneeled to his side and stared. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah, stop laughing. I’m not finding humor in this. My head hurts like hell.” He closed his eyes as laughter turned to giggles. He swallowed the bile, forcing it back into his stomach.
“No one’s laughing.” Pippa’s fingers pried around the spot. “You’ve a bump.” She tore open something with alcohol. By the scent, it was a Prep packet. He knew from previous hospital stays the disinfectant was going to burn like hell. She drew his hand away and dug her nails into his scalp. “Lucky for you, this is the reason I carry a medic bag every time I come into the stables. A father-ingrained routine.”
“I thought it was just to highlight your small waist.” The instant the cold alcohol burned into his skin, he shoved her hand away. If these two weren’t giggling, then who was? Basil stood straight and glanced around. “Who else is in here?”
Brooke and Pippa stared at each other. “Just us,” they replied.
“Are you seeing double? Come into the light so I can have a closer look at that injury,” Pippa insisted.
Much to his agony, she wrapped her arm around him. A soft melon-sized breast pressed against his side and her hip banged into his as they walked. Her unique scent had the ability to spiral him into a lust web. Even the distant laughter was almost worth the agony of a head wound.
An attempt to shake his head drew more bile into his throat. “I’m fine. Just thought I heard someone laughing.”
Pippa started to pull away.
He couldn’t allow that. It’d been awhile since he’d felt a woman’s closeness and he wanted more. Yet the shadows invaded, wobbling he drew a deep breath. Pain pounded his head. Would the darkness take over again? He hadn’t forgotten the grim feeling, but the gloom had lightened since he’d met Pippa. Would she continue to be his salvation?
“Guess I hit the noggin harder than I thought.” His weak knees collapsed, forcing him down the dark hole.
Pippa pulled him close and called, “Brooke, get a stool and see if Doc is still in stable one.”
Christ, he’d have to recover before the vet arrived. A three-legged stool plopped onto the ground and Pippa separated her body from his. He dropped onto the hard wood, and dangled his hands between his legs to hide his arousal clearly visible underneath his pants. At least his brain still sent signals to parts of his body. “I’m fine. Just need a moment and maybe something for a headache.”
“Shh. Let me see.” Pippa snuggled his back, wrapped her legs on each side as it to prop him and proceeded to dig around on his scalp.
“She obviously doesn’t know you well enough. It’ll take more than a piece of wood to crack that skull.”
Basil shot his gaze toward the sexy voice. A tall, Amazon-like woman with bright blonde hair and sparkly skin stood inches from him. She wore what he assumed was a costume with a silver skirt barely covering her rear. A black leather vest and boots completed the outfit. “Who are you?”
“Pippa.”
“No, the woman standing in front of us, wearing leather and a smart-ass grin.” His voice rose. Christ, he must have a concussion.
Pippa walked in a circle around him. “Basil, relax, no one is there. You hit your head. I’ll take you to the emergency room.”
“You don’t see her?” he whispered.
“Useless. You might as well stop, no one can see me but you,” the Amazon said.
“Yeah. Maybe I better get a brain scan.” Basil fluttered his hand through the air, trying to touch the laughing sex stick.
“From what Harry said, you’ve had worse damage than a little bump.” The unexpected guest inched forward and stopped beside him.
Pippa went back to sorting through his hair. “Blood’s formed a well under the scalp, but nothing’s leaking. The hematoma should be looked at by a doctor.”
“I’m fine. Cracked my skull and thought I saw an”—Basil snorted—“angel.” Just like Harry claimed after his brush with death. In Korea, Harrison took a gunshot to the head. When he woke up in the hospital Harrison said a blonde angel had saved him. Now, Basil experienced a blonde angel taunting him. Was he going to die?
“Hum. I think people generally see stars not women. However, it doesn’t surprise me you saw a woman. I assume she is dressed in leather—and very little of it.” Pippa hesitated, came around in front of him and leaned forward. “Let’s go in the house, and I’ll have Doc take a look.” She glanced at her watch. “I’ve a date. Mattie can watch you.”
Her lips were red, maybe from biting them. Dark eyes held concern. She was beautiful and as bright as a beacon calling to him through the haziness. He wrapped his hand around Pippa’s head and kissed her. Not a gentle searching kind of kiss, but one packed with power and emotion as if he should share all of her goodness. In those few seconds, a flash of understanding came forward.
Harry disappeared, months after his angel saved him on the battlefield. Was this a forecast of what was to come?
“Possibly. We should talk. When we’re alone.” Amazon propped her hands on her hips.
An angel who could read minds. Who’d have thunk it? With that thought, darkness overtook him.
Chapter 5
Closed blinds and drawn curtains didn’t keep the smidgen of light from getting through the slits. Basil sighed. Early afternoon. Relax for a few more minutes beneath the warm covers or shovel crap? He flipped the cover to the side and sat up. He co
uldn’t spend more time imagining what Pippa had done last night with banker-boy. Unable to process logical thought due to the pounding headache, he would remedy his pain with a few aspirin. He pulled on a pair of jeans and stumbled into the sunlit atrium.
Mattie sat behind her desk. The clack of her fingers flying over the keyboard, coupled with the gigantic clock ticking, reverberated in his head like the pulse of a machine gun. Her pale face had two crimson spots on her apple cheeks, providing her with a tell-tale color. A vase of yellow roses, opening to a full bloom, were positioned nearby. Doc had followed up on his inquiry about Mattie’s dating habits. The flowers did provide a fragrant floral scent, sending him back to his mum’s kitchen in Worcester, England. A pang of loneliness and regret cramped his stomach. Mattie glanced up and cast him a smile. “Hi, handsome. It’s about time you crawled from under the covers. I was getting worried.”
Her smile was way too broad. He glanced at the clock. “Is that time correct?”
Mattie looked at her computer screen. “Yep, two in the afternoon.”
She slipped from her dark brown desk chair and grabbed her mug. “Come on, I’ll fix you something to eat.”
He had no free will. His stringed legs followed the puppeteer into the kitchen. “That can’t be right. The vet shot me full of drugs about two p.m.”
“Yep. You had a nice long nap.” She grabbed the coffee pot and filled her cup. Carafe in hand, she opened a cupboard and grabbed another mug. “Coffee or something cold?”
He smacked his dry lips. “Water would be great.”
She set the cup to the black granite surface and went to the fridge. “Are you still seeing that young girl in a leather bustier?”
Basil took the bottle of water she extended and sat on a saddle-style wooden bar stool. In the last few minutes he may have seen that mystical woman, watching TV in his bedroom suite. He didn’t talk to the spectral image, and she ignored him. The chick in leather could not be real. Regardless, Mattie reminded him of his mum; he couldn’t lie to her. “Nope, the only beautiful woman I see right now is you.”
“You rascal.” The geriatric diva winked. “I’ll take the compliment.”
He chuckled. Okay, not so much motherly as amusing and adorable. “Mattie—”
She slapped a couple slices of wheat bread on a plate and withdrew sandwich fixings from the restaurant style fridge. “Mustard or mayo?”
“Mustard, but I’m not really hungry.” He rubbed the bristle on the side of his cheek. Yep, at least twenty-four hours of growth. “So the quack gave me horse tranquilizers?”
She positioned the plate on a woven mat in front of him. “Kid, you were seeing a blonde Xena, warrior princess. At least that’s what you kept saying. Again and again.”
He took a bite from the sandwich, hoping the subject would drop.
Mattie wiped crumbs from the counter top. “You okay now? Headache gone?”
He spoke with his mouth full. “All better. Where’s Pippa?”
She lifted an eyebrow as if to say, Where else?
“Got it. The stables.”
****
The sound of Basil’s distinctive boots hitting the wood floor as he swaggered through stable two created a bit of happiness in Pippa. She’d underestimated him. The guy pulled his weight, continuing the drudgery of mucking stalls. Currently, he entered the tack closet.
She left the building and walked to the corral where her horse, Deep South, whinnied. He’d been saddled, ready for a ride. She patted his neck. “Let’s go for a run. Okay, boy?”
In agreement, he dipped his dark brown head.
“Why don’t we take that little filly you’ve been eyeing along with us?” Pippa released the leather strap from the fence post, then finger-combed his mane as she speed-dialed Gonzo, a retired groom who’d always lived on the ranch. He’d be near or in the stables. “Hi, hon’, what’s cookin’?”
“Just you good-looking.” His raspy voice grated through the connection. “I see you’re taking Deep South for a ride.”
She glanced to the nearest barn. Like a cowboy ad, Gonzo bent forward slightly, with his backside against the wall. He held the phone to his ear. His free hand twirled a long, crooked piece of straw.
“Yep. I’ll be over.” She hung up and meandered to the red barn. Like an overgrown puppy, Deep South trailed behind her. Pippa assessed her friend, finding nothing out of the ordinary except a little wince as he straightened away from the wall. “How’s your arthritis today?
“I’m fine, sugar pea.” Gonzo slipped the phone into his jeans pocket. “Between that salve and a good cup of Mattie’s homemade whiskey, I’m right as rain.” His smile, slow and broad, and clear eyes reassured her of his vigorous well-being—as anyone can be at seventy.
“Will you saddle that filly from the west corral? I think Deep South fancies her, and I want to test the new volunteer’s riding skills.” Pippa glanced into the stable. Basil’s torso, a narrow waist leading to broad shoulders, knocked her stomach into tiny quivers. He bent over a bin of fodder. His sideways angle allowed her to admire his strong-jawed profile.
“Yes, ma’am.” Gonzo chuckled and then sobered. “Looks like Deep South isn’t the only one interested in a new addition to the Horse Rescue Ranch family.”
She would have responded, but Basil had flipped around so his taut rear was in her direct line of vision.
Gonzo snickered, gaining her attention. He nodded toward Basil. “Heard he donated a couple of Gs.”
“Umm hum.” Basil had a perfect body, all sinew. Prominent cheekbones highlighted oval eyes and lush lips which worked wonders in the kissing arena. That brief kiss in the barn wasn’t enough. She needed more.
Hoarse chuckles came from Gonzo. Pippa glanced at him. His gaze focused on the fascination of her desire. “He’s been askin’ about David.”
Her friend’s eyes became slits, sending her the message that she shouldn’t trust any man. “We’ll keep the same story. No reason to change it for one of his Marine mates, regardless how much money he donates.”
Gonzo nodded. “That settled, I’ll get Buttercup saddled.”
Funny, Pippa had given thought to dating Basil after she got her finances settled. But the Marine hadn’t given up and his determination to find David didn’t endear her. She hardened her heart, intending to find out the true reason he searched for her brother and nip his quest in the bud. She had more to lose if David was taken into custody. Goal renewed, she marched into the barn with drilling for truth on her mind.
“Morning, Pippa,” Brooke called.
Today Brooke wore a white, tight, knit top. Her black bra was visible. The girl was trying to get Basil’s attention. Well, she’d just divert the teen’s wily ways in a new direction.
“Hey. How do you feel?”
Basil came around the corner, empty bucket in hand. “Good. You look fresh as a daisy.”
Brooke giggled. Pippa had jerked on a pair of brown riding trousers, white long-sleeved T-shirt, and yellow vest. She topped the outfit off with a black waist belt full of medicinal supplies for equine or human. Always be prepared for an offsite injury on a ranch. Her father’s edict floated through her thoughts. However, in the reflection of Basil’s eyes, she probably did resemble a daisy.
“Thanks.” She pivoted toward Brooke. “I think Brandon needs assistance with Firefly. Could you give him a hand?”
“What about the feed? Basil and I aren’t finished.” Brooke glanced at the doorway, no doubt trying to get a glimpse of the youngster.
“You and Brandon can finish, once you get Firefly into the pasture. I’m going to have Mr. Vanguard help me exercise a couple of horses.”
“Okay.” Brooke hung her bucket on the hook beside the stall and rushed through the door. She’d be happy working with Brandon. The tall, gorgeous blond with muscles resembling timbers played fullback position for Cyan High School. Their schedules rarely overlapped, so the hormonal teen would welcome the opportunity to release pheromones.<
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Basil hadn’t moved. She met his stare. Oh no, that strange glow meant one thing: lust.
He stepped directly in her personal space and whispered, “I like a forceful woman who gets things done. Kind of turns me on.”
Heat rushed to her face. He constantly surprised her. “Yeah. Well I’m accustomed to being in charge.”
He removed a glove and placed his naked hand under her vest. Strumming fingers burned through her thin knit shirt. “There’s at least one situation where it would be best if I’m the one in charge.”
Her heart stamped hoof prints into her chest. For some reason she couldn’t catch a breath. She stared deeply into his hazel eyes, noticing for the first time how the bits of amber were bright and shiny. She was a sucker for dreamy-eyed guys.
Horse breath brushing her face and pawing on wooden floorboards woke her from the trance. “Well, we’re on my turf, and I’m in charge. My horse and a new filly need exercise. Do you want to take a ride?”
His sexy got-to-have-you stance changed. “I’m not a horseman.” He took a long step back with such velocity his short hiking boots kicked up dust.
“Have you ridden a horse before?” She doubted he had, but curiosity apparently ruled today.
His eyebrows twitched. “Once.”
“How long ago?” She hoped she wouldn’t have to drag the whole fear-of-horses story from him.
“When I was six.” His glance shot to the side.
Her shoulders slumped. She’d heard it all too often, and his story probably wouldn’t differ from the others. “At a birthday party where a dozen kids were around?”
“On a Merry-Go-Round,” he mumbled.