AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I do, actually. All the time.” He throws the truck into park and climbs down, crossing to my side to open my door for me as I pull on my hat and mittens, before reaching into the backseat to pull out a big plastic box with a handle. He gestures toward the barn, where a white-haired man—John Morelli, I assume—is coming out to greet us with a shaggy mutt on his heels. “Let’s get to it.”
“She’s in here,” John says as he leads us into the barn and to a big, airy stall. There’s a beautiful golden-brown horse inside with a white-blond mane, munching placidly at a net bag full of hay. A little plaque next to the stall door readsBLUE RIVER’S GOLD.
“I noticed Goldie favoring that back leg a day or so ago and gave her some Bute for the pain,” John says, gesturing toward one of the horse’s hind legs. Even my untrained eyes can see an ugly, swollen knot on her bony lower leg. “The swelling started up yesterday. I touched it to see if it was hot, and she damn near kicked the door down.”
Callum sets the box down and opens it up. “All right, let’s see what we’ve got here.” He pulls out a syringe with a long needle. “We’re going to give her a little something to relax her so I can do an exam.” He gives Goldie a scratch below her neck and quickly, carefully administers the shot.
“Just worried about my girl,” John says gruffly. He leans down to pat his dog, who sits pressed against his leg. “She’s my granddaughter’s favorite horse and I like her an awful lot, too.”
Callum is mesmerizing with Goldie. He knows how to get her to do exactly what he wants, and he’s unfailingly gentle and compassionate. I lean against the stall door and watch rapt as he scratches her nose gently while she slowly droops. A small smile plays at his sensual mouth, and I feel like I can reallyseehim. He’s more than just a handsome, goofy guy and my late husband’s best friend. This isn’t just his job. He cares deeply about these animals. I’m gazing into his heart right now, and it’s stunningly beautiful.
“Look,” he says to me. He points to Goldie’s eyes, which are mostly closed, and her slack lower lip that wobbles gently. “She’s pretty much asleep. You can come in if you want, you won’t startle her.”
I hesitate and cross onto the sawdust stall floor as Callum grabs a piece of equipment from the box and squats down next to her injured leg. It’s an ultrasound machine, I realize as he smears some clear gel on the knot and switches the machine on. He gently runs the probe around as he squints into the small screen. Gently—so gently, I can see—he touches the leg with careful fingers, feeling around the tendons before he glances at the bottom of her hoof. Finally, he stands back up as he switches the machine off.
“Looks like a pretty nasty tendon injury,” he says to John. “I think she’ll recover, but it’s going to be a few months of stall rest and just hand walking. Maybe twenty minutes a day at most to start, then we’ll see how she improves.”
John takes a deep breath and I realized how scared he was for the beautiful horse, still snoozing gently in the stall. “That was about the best-case scenario I had in mind,” he admits. “She had me worried.”
“That was kind of amazing,” I tell Callum as we pull out of the driveway a few minutes later. “I don’t know anything about horses, but you were so good.”
“I think I do okay,” he says. He reaches out to adjust the heat, and before he returns his hand to the steering wheel, I impulsively reach out and grab it. It’s warm and rough, as deliciously masculine as I hoped it would be. He twines his fingers with mine and rests our joined hands on the console between us. We don’t say anything about it, but we stay like that for the rest of the drive to Ruthie’s. And it’s nice. Peaceful.
Ruthie’s house, by contrast, is a cacophony of boisterous laughter over a delicious dinner. Callum’s three brothers are full of stories about their childhood. He was a dreamer, a clown, and so smart that his parents didn’t know what to do with him.
“Do you remember the time that Callum set up a working snare under that tree in the backyard?” one of his brothers—Jamie, I think—says with a wry smile as we sit clustered around a crackling fire after dinner. “I dangled upside-down until I fainted and Dad had to come cut me down.”
I cough on my wine and Callum reaches over to gently rub my back. I look over at him and he gives me that slow, sexy smile, and my heart flutters. I glance at Ruthie on my other side and she just smiles back at me serenely.
I hear a buzz coming from Callum’s pocket. He pulls his phone out and sighs. “Work stuff,” he says. “I’ll be right back.”
With Callum out of the room, Ruthie scooches closer. “Did you have a nice time today?” she asks. “Watching Callum work is a real treat, I think. He’s brilliant with animals.”
“He really is.” I look down at the floor nervously. Ruthie has been so kind and welcoming, and I still feel guilty about crashing her party. “Ruthie, I need to tell you something.”
“You crashed my party?” she says. My jaw nearly hits the floor, but she just sips her wine and shrugs. “I knew right away. But you and Callum seemed to be having such a nice time, and I’m an excellent judge of character, so I didn’t see a problem.”
“I can’t believe you knew,” I mumble. My face feels red hot with embarrassment. “I feel terrible.”
She waves a hand dismissively. “Oh, don’t. I’m glad you came. But Iamcurious about what brought you to my door.”
“My husband was Callum’s best friend,” I say. I look down at my folded hands. “He died and I…needed to talk to Callum about something.”
“I am so sorry, Hazel,” she says, her face suddenly serious. “I won’t pry if you don’t want me to.”
I shake my head. “It’s fine, really. I’m okay.”
She gives me an appraising glance. “But thatdoesmean that you’re available…”
On the drive back to my house through the dark, snowy evening, Callum peppers me with questions about my life, the things we hadn’t found the time to talk about yet between the trip to the ranch, the party, and dinner with his family.
“So you’re an accountant,” he says. “That fits. You seem soorderlyto me. Except for the party crashing, that is.”
“It’s a job,” I say. “I always wanted to have a ton of adventures, but Tom was in medical school and I had to work, so it seemed like a practical choice. I don’t mind it – I work for Hal Stevens downtown, next to Goodwin’s Antiques. He’s a good boss and I’m happy there.”
“He’s friends with Ruthie,” Callum tells me. “Handles her financial stuff, I think. She’s known him forever.”
“I’m lucky to know him,” I say. “There were a lot of people who—when Tom got sick, that is—helped me when they didn’t have to. He was one of them. All the time off I needed, and he helped me get Tom’s affairs in order. He was so kind.Peoplecan be so kind.”
