Heaven's Gift aka Kiss of an Angel

Chapter Five

Blinking irritably at the heavy, burning sensation in his eyes, compliments of a sleepless night invaded with erotic dreams of Caitlan, J.T. headed toward the kitchen for breakfast the following morning. The heavy scent of bacon and coffee, mingled with the sweeter aroma of Paula's delicious pancakes, provoked a rumble of hunger from his stomach. He needed food and coffee, then a fast run on Quinn to take the edge off his strung-out nerves.

J.T. stopped short when he walked across the threshold, his gaze riveted to the one woman he'd thought to avoid by getting up this early. Caitlan.

He felt like hell, knew he looked like hell, and to compound his ire, she sat at the end of the table looking as refreshed as a daisy after a spring rain-as if she had had a good eight hours of sleep under her belt. At five in the morning, for chrissakes! She should have looked a little wilted!

Her silky hair swung about her shoulders as she glanced at him. A slight smile curved her mouth. "Good morning," she said cheerfully.

Despite her attempt to be amiable, he detected the guardedness in her eyes. A look of uncertainty that said she wasn't sure she wanted to get too close to him. Good. After last night he wanted her to stay the hell away from him. The further, the better.

"Morning," he muttered. Crossing to the coffeepot, he poured himself a cup of the brew, then carried it to his regular seat at the table, across from Caitlan. Settling himself on the bench, he glanced around. "Where's Paula?"

"In the pantry," Caitlan replied, concentrating on the task of slathering strawberry jam on her toast.

"Breakfast will be on the table in a sec," Paula called. The sound of canned goods being shuffled from the shelves drifted out of the walk-in pantry. "Frank and Kirk are on their way up."

"That's fine." Taking a long swallow of coffee, J.T. studied Caitlan. She wouldn't look at him, acted as though he wasn't there. Her indifference annoyed him because he was all too aware of her.

She stood and went to refill her mug with coffee, offering him an unobstructed head-to-toe view. He recognized the thigh-length beige cable-knit sweater she wore over her jeans as Debbie's, and was grateful for the concealing and bulky top. He knew she had curves, had felt every one of them last night, and wanted no visual reminder of how lush her body really was.

She returned, and he took another drink of his coffee, parading his thoughts in a different direction. "What are you doing up so early?"

Grabbing the sugar container, she poured a long stream into her coffee, added a splash of cream, and stirred. "I couldn't sleep."

"Join the club." He watched her take a bite of her toast and lick a smudge of jam from her thumb, unaffected by his dry comment. Dammit, look up at me! After a reassuring glance to confirm that Paula was still busy in the pantry, he said in a low voice only Caitlan could hear, "I couldn't sleep probably because I'm not in the habit of receiving late-night visitors."

Her gaze flew to his, the violet depths smoky with awareness. He smiled, a measure of wicked satisfaction rushing through him at the telltale flush sweeping across her cheeks. He waited in anticipation for her rebuttal, but before she could reply they were interrupted.

"Don't mind J.T.," Paula said, bustling back into the kitchen, her arms full holding a container of dried noodles and a sack of potatoes. "A cup of strong coffee usually takes the grizzly out of him. Our J.T. isn't much of a morning person." She cast him a fond smile over her shoulder before unloading her staples onto the counter.

No, he wasn't much of a morning person, J.T. thought, staring at Caitlan's amused expression. Especially since wakening with an arousal so painfully hard it had taken a cold shower in order for him to zip up his jeans. And it was her fault. Even after she'd left his bed last night the scent and warmth of her lingered, haunting him and his dreams.

Frank and Kirk ambled in the back door, hanging their hats and coats on the rack situated there. Their discussion about the day's plans abruptly ended when they saw Caitlan sitting at the table.

"Morning," they greeted at the same time, both wearing congenial grins.

"Good morning," Caitlan replied with a bright smile.

J.T. gave them a brief nod of acknowledgment, refusing to wish them a good morning when his was as lousy as it got.

"Morning," Paula said, and began scrambling the eggs sitting in the frying pan, as was her regular routine once all her "boys" arrived.

"You're up mighty early, Ms. Daniels," Frank commented, taking a seat next to J.T.

Kirk poured two cups of coffee and carried them back to the table. Setting a mug before Frank, he lowered himself beside Caitlan. "Only fools like us get up this early," he added to Frank's observation, then slanted J.T. a goading look from across the expanse of wood. "You plan on making her work the range, or what, J.T.?"

Only from his brother-in-law would J.T. take such blatant ribbing. "No, and I don't want Caitlan to leave the general area without someone with her. Considering her bad sense of direction, I don't want to chance her getting lost."

Caitlan gathered up her dishes and stood. "You won't have to worry about entertaining me." A serious expression etched her features, but J.T. saw the sassy twinkle in her eyes as she repeated the order he'd given her last night in his office. "I'll do my best to stay out of everyone's way."

He watched her take her dishes to the sink, expecting her to leave the kitchen on that parting remark. To his surprise, she picked up a dish of bacon and a stack of clean plates and brought them to the table.

"Honey," Paula said, a little flustered with Caitlan's assistance. "You're a guest here. You don't have to do that." She scooped the fluffy scrambled eggs into a bowl.

"It's not a problem." Caitlan grabbed the entree before Paula could put the skillet back down and delivered the dish and the platter of pancakes to the hungry men. "Four hands are better than two. Besides, I've got nothing but time to kill. The least I can do for everyone's generosity is help out around here."

J.T. forked a couple of pancakes onto his plate, wondering how long Caitlan's enthusiasm would last. Today a novelty, tomorrow a chore, he thought in private, wry amusement. As soon as those soft hands of hers became chapped, dry, and sore, he was sure she'd be singing a different tune.

Turning his attention away from Caitlan, he glanced at Frank. "Do you have all the hands lined out for today?"

Frank nodded and took a gulp of coffee to wash down a bite of scrambled egg. "Gotta get that fence on the east end repaired, and I've got a group rounding up the cattle in the north pasture."

"Good." J.T. bit off a chunk of bacon and chewed. "If you don't need the extra body, I need to spend the day in the office." Out of the corner of his eye J.T. saw Caitlan look his way. He glanced at her just as she smiled and cast a long look upward. He frowned, wondering what she found so fascinating about the kitchen ceiling.

"I think we can manage without you today, boss," Kirk cut in while Frank nodded his agreement, since his mouth was full. "Wouldn't hurt us any if you took it easy for a few days, considering your accident."

"I'm fine," J.T. insisted, refusing to admit even to himself that he was exhausted and could use a few days to recuperate. Sticking around the house doing paperwork would have to do as far as rest and relaxation was concerned. "With Graham out because of his slipped disc, our feed order is falling short. I need to take inventory of our supplies and get everything back up to date again."

"Not a problem, boss." Frank wiped his mouth with a napkin and tossed it on his empty plate. "We've got the work covered."

"Great." With that settled, J.T. thanked Paula for breakfast and went to his office to immerse himself in bookkeeping and order-filling for the day.

"Caitlan, do you want to see the new kittens we have in the barn?" Laura asked, shoveling a spoonful of Frosted Flakes into her mouth.

At the kitchen sink, Caitlan glanced over her shoulder and smiled at Laura's excitement. "I'd love to. Just let me finish peeling this last potato for Paula." Finishing the task quickly and with ease, she placed the skinned potato with the others on a paper napkin.

Paula filled a huge pot with water to boil the potatoes. "The bus is going to be here in thirty minutes, Laura," she reminded her.

"Do I have to go to school today?" Laura complained, finishing off her bowl of cereal. She brought her empty juice glass and dishes to the sink. "Can't I stay home and show Caitlan around?"

Paula sent her a gently reproving look. "I don't think your father would be too pleased if you did that."

Laura let out a long sigh. "Why do I have to go to school while everyone else gets to stay home and have all the fun?" she grumbled.

Caitlan and Paula exchanged amused glances.

"I promise not to have any fun while you're at school," Caitlan vowed in a serious tone, drying her hands on a dishtowel. "Besides, today's Friday and you'll have all weekend to spend with me. We'll have all kinds of fun together. I promise."

Laura brightened marginally. "Sundays we usually go to Aunt Debbie's for dinner. Will you come with us?"

If the invitation had been issued by J.T., Caitlan would have accepted without hesitation. She needed to stay close to him, but how would he feel about her intruding on something as personal as a Sunday supper ritual? "I don't know-"

"Of course she'll go, Laura," Paula interrupted, lighting the burner beneath the pot of potatoes. "Your father wouldn't leave Caitlan all alone."

Don't bet on it, Caitlan thought.

"Good." Laura hooked her arm through Caitlan's, beaming a grin up at her. "Come on; let's go see the kittens."

"I'll be back to help with those cherry tarts, Paula," Caitlan called as Laura tugged her out of the kitchen. "Don't start without me!"

Instead of heading for the front door, Laura made a detour down the hall toward J.T.'s office. Realizing her intent, Caitlan pulled back and stopped just as Laura grabbed the doorknob. "What are you doing?"

Laura tilted her head to the side, grinning. "I just want to say good morning to Dad. It'll only take a second."

Before Caitlan could bow out gracefully, Laura opened the door and, arm still linked in Caitlan's, dragged her into the room with her. "Morning, Dad!" Laura announced, her bubbly mood nearly infectious.

J.T. glanced up from the papers and ledgers spread out on the wide desk in front of him. "Hi, Smidget." His gaze flickered from his exuberant daughter, bounding across the room, to Caitlan.

Caitlan gave him an apologetic look for interrupting his business, but he truly didn't seem to mind the intrusion. Standing by one of the chairs in front of J.T.'s desk, she watched as he accepted Laura's hug and quick kiss on the cheek. The closeness between father and daughter was evident, and Caitlan fleetingly wondered about Laura's mother, and how any woman could walk out on her own child. The young girl seemed well adjusted, her Aunt Debbie and Paula doted on her, but what about that constant mothering attention and guidance a girl Laura's age needed?

J.T. glanced at his watch, then chucked Laura lightly under the chin. "The bus is going to be here in twenty minutes. Don't miss it."

"I won't. I just want to show Caitlan the kittens, and then I'll go to the bus stop." Laura crossed back to Caitlan, then turned to her father with an impish grin. "Oh, and I just wanted to tell you so you don't worry about it; Caitlan is going to Aunt Debbie's with us on Sunday. Aunt Debbie really likes Caitlan, so I'm sure she won't mind having her over."

J.T.'s gaze slid to Caitlan, a half grin turning up the corners of his mouth. "I'm sure Debbie won't," he murmured.

Caitlan shifted on her feet, suddenly uncomfortable with his lazy observation. "If this is a family thing, I don't really need to go-"

"Debbie would skin me alive if I left you at home." He leaned back in his chair, his countenance relaxed. "We go over to her place every Sunday. I think she feels sorry for me, because it's the only day Paula doesn't cook supper."

"Dad can't cook," Laura said out of the side of her mouth.

"Hey, I thought you liked my grilled cheese sandwiches." J.T. feigned a hurt look. "I'm kind of partial to them myself."

Laura rolled her eyes dramatically. "Dad, you can't live on grilled cheese sandwiches alone. You need a wife; that way you wouldn't have to depend on Paula or Aunt Debbie."

J.T. shook a finger Laura's way. "And you need a swat to your bottom."

The words were tossed teasingly, but Caitlan noted the barely perceptible shift in J.T.'s easy mood. His jaw hardened, and the sparkle in his eyes faded. He kept his emotions tightly leashed, careful not to take his own personal grudge about a wife out on his daughter.

Sitting up, J.T. picked up his pencil and flipped open a folder. "Now get going before I make good on my threat."

"You're too much of a softy, Dad. I'll see ya after school." Laura blew her father a kiss from across the room, then headed for the door. "Come on, Caitlan; time's a wastin'."

Caitlan couldn't help delivering a parting remark to J.T., sugar-coating it with a grin. "Considering I have a full schedule ahead of me today, I'd better get a move on, huh?"

As she slipped out the door behind Laura, she heard J.T. say, "I ought to swat your butt."

Smiling to herself, Caitlan walked beside Laura as they cut across to the barn. The day promised to be beautiful. A slight, chilled breeze blew, but the sky was clear for as far as the eye could see. The ranch hands had long since gone, leaving the area peaceful and serene for the time being.

Laura looked at Caitlan, concern creasing her delicate brows. "Dad doesn't usually stick around the house. I hope he's feeling okay."

"I'm sure he's fine." Caitlan rubbed Laura's back in a gesture meant to soothe her worries.

"He mentioned this morning at breakfast that he had some paperwork to catch up on." Caitlan was grateful J.T. had decided to stay indoors. Having him so close made her job easier. She knew where he was and didn't have to worry about defying him, and angering him even more, by following him around the ranch while he worked. How would she explain the need to be by his side all day long? The longer he stayed around the house, the better.

Laura grabbed Caitlan's arm. "Will you keep an eye on him while I'm at school, just to be sure he's reallyokay?" she asked, her tone a shade away from a plea.

Caitlan patted her hand reassuringly. "Consider it done."

"Good." Laura smiled, her step suddenly light and buoyant. "You might want to have lunch with him, just to be sure he takes a break."

Caitlan lifted a brow, seeing through Laura's scheme. "Don't push your luck, sweetie. Your father barely puts up with me as it is. He knows where the kitchen is if he gets hungry."

"He likes you."

Caitlan shook her head. "Trust me. We've been over this before, Laura. Your father just tolerates me, and I don't think he'd appreciate you trying to play cupid." He'd made his feelings about relationships and involvements crystal clear last night.

"Someone has to do it." Laura tossed her head, her mahogany mane of hair tumbling around her shoulders. "Give my dad a chance; he'll come around. I know he's a little stubborn and grouchy sometimes, but he can be really sweet, too."

Sweet wasn't a word she'd use to describe J.T. Sexy, tough, arrogant, and maybe a little humorous sometimes. Sweet? Never. "I'm all wrong for your father, and nothing good could come out of this. I'll be gone in a few days."

"You might find you like it here." Laura flashed her a smile and skipped ahead.

Caitlan liked it here-too much. She liked J.T., way too much, despite his resolve to keep her at arm's length and his sometimes gruff manner. There had been glimpses of a tender man, but he'd never allowed that side of his personality to fully develop with her. He always withdrew just in time, leaving her grasping for the promise of something more.

Shaking those thoughts from her mind, she followed Laura into the large red structure. Inside, the barn was cool and dim. Dust motes danced in a beam of sunlight filtering through a window in the loft.

"They're over here," Laura said, motioning to the far end of the barn.

At Laura's outburst, a huge black horse snorted and kicked the side of his stall. Caitlan stopped and peered through the pen's slats at the spooked animal as he tossed his head and bared his teeth. Caitlan moved closer, trying to make eye contact with the horse.

"Stay away from him," Laura said, a bit of fear in her voice.

"He's a beautiful stallion," Caitlan said in a soft voice, so as not to scare the horse any more than he already was. "What's his name?"

"King's Ransom, and he's mean and dangerous." Laura glanced at King warily and shuddered. "Dad would freak if he knew we were even this close to his stall."

"King," Caitlan whispered, and the stallion immediately settled down. Ears twitching, he searched for the source of the gently coaxing voice.

"Caitlan, leave him alone. He's worthless." Laura tugged on her sweater. "Come on, I only have a few minutes before I've gotta catch the bus and I want you to see the kittens."

Reluctantly, Caitlan left King, promising to return when she could be alone with him for a few minutes. The vibrations of terror she'd sensed from the horse concerned her.

In the corner of the barn, in a large box lined with shredded newspaper, five kittens stumbled about on shaky legs and mewled for their mother, their cries sharp and insistent.

Laughing at the expressive kittens, Caitlan knelt by the box. "They must be hungry." She reached in and picked up a smoky gray striped one.

Laura knelt beside Caitlan, looking over the kittens with pride. "The momma kitty, Missy, will be here any minute. She's very protective of her kittens."

Rubbing noses with the gray, Caitlan chuckled as he licked the tip of her nose. "They're adorable."

"The one you're holding I named Brutus."

The kitten squirmed and twisted in Caitlan's grasp, trying to escape. "He's a strong one, isn't he?" She put him back with the rest of the litter and stroked the head of another kitten.

"That one I named Sunshine, and that's Pumpkin, and this one is Bandit," Laura said, pointing to each one in turn.

"What about this one?" Caitlan picked up the little feline getting trampled by its rambunctious siblings.

"I haven't figured out a name for her yet." Laura frowned as she thought. "She's the runt. Why don't you name her?"

Caitlan held the kitten up for inspection, her heart giving a little tug at the sweet, furry face with deep blue eyes staring back at her. The kitten let out a howl of protest and Caitlan laughed, placing her back in the box. "How about Sassy?"

"Yeah, I like that." Laura nodded. "Sassy it is."

Missy, the mother cat, nudged her way past Caitlan and jumped into her domain. After finding all five of her kittens safe, she cast a baleful look Caitlan's way, then promptly stretched out.

Each kitten clamored greedily for a nipple, sucking noisily.

Laura sighed. "I guess I'd better get going."

Straightening, Caitlan brushed the hay off her knees. "Yes. I don't want to be the one responsible for making you miss the school bus. Your father would just love that."

Once Laura was gone Caitlan went back inside the house and helped Paula make cherry tarts for that evening's dessert. They talked and joked, and Caitlan found she enjoyed the older woman's company immensely.

The day progressed slowly, even though there was plenty to do to help Paula with household chores. Every time Caitlan passed J.T.'s study she debated whether to stop and talk to him. But what would she say? Knowing he probably wouldn't appreciate being disturbed, she decided against the idea. He didn't even emerge for lunch. Paula took him a sandwich, a side of freshly made potato salad, and a glass of iced tea.

By early afternoon boredom set in. Caitlan thought about sketching, but after the disturbing vision she'd drawn the night before she wasn't all that eager to put pencil to paper. At least not in the light of day. She wanted the privacy of secluded night hours to delve deeper into her mind for the source of those images.

Sitting on the window seat in the living room, Caitlan gazed out the window, thinking of King's Ransom's peculiar behavior. Within five minutes Caitlan stood by the stallion's stall, sugar cubes in her hand.

As soon as King saw her, he went wild, kicking and rearing like an animal possessed. "King," she called softly, and quietly unlatched the door to his stall.

The horse whinnied, a sound so mournful and hurting Caitlan ached deep inside for him. Slowly opening the door, she whispered his name again and again, a soothing litany that eventually calmed the stallion enough so he wasn't thrashing any longer. He stood at the far end of the stall, breathing hard, watching her warily.

Holding his gaze, she silently urged the horse to relax, giving him no reason to fear her. Heart pounding, she stepped inside his pen. King backed up anxiously, terror flashing in his gaze. She willed him to trust her, and gradually the trust came in the form of a soulful nicker. And then Caitlan knew, the perception so strong her animal sense tapped into the source of the stallion's anguish.

"Oh, you sweet, sweet thing. You're not dangerous, are you, boy?" she said, her throat thick with sorrow. "Someone's been abusing you. I'll make it better, I promise, but you've got to let me get close so I can help you."

After a long, tense minute King's Ransom took a tentative step forward.

J.T. pushed his chair back, stood, and stretched his stiff muscles. His body ached more from sitting in one position for hours, bending over a desk and pushing a pencil, than it would have if he'd ridden out with the boys today. He'd accomplished a lot, but he still needed to take inventory of supplies, and that would take a good day or two, considering the task had been neglected for far too long.

Right now, though, he needed a break.

Leaving the office, he found the house quiet and Paula gone, as was her daily routine. She'd be back to prepare dinner for the family later that afternoon, when Laura returned from school.

Walking through the kitchen and living room and finding them empty, J.T. wondered where Caitlan was. As much as he tried to convince himself he didn't want to have anything to do with her, he couldn't stop thinking about her warm, sweet response to him last night before he'd pushed her further than she'd been ready to go. He'd wanted her badly, but he wasn't such a brute that he'd take her by force or without setting down his ground rules first. And she'd clearly made her decision when she'd bolted from his room. He told himself it was for the best, but that didn't stop him from desiring her in a way that made him restless and edgy.

Rolling his shoulders to relieve the taut muscles there, he headed for the barn, deciding to take Quinn out for a run. The door to the structure was open, and he frowned as he stepped inside. His men knew better than to leave the barn door unsecured.

Caitlan's voice drifted to him from down the corridor. Soft. Gentle. Cajoling. Curious, he silently followed the sound of her murmured words and froze when he saw exactly where she was. In King's Ransom's stall. His heart hammered in his chest. Thinking of what the powerful, schizophrenic stallion was capable of doing when spooked, stark fear congealed the blood in his veins. His mind raced with ways to get Caitlan safely out of the pen without alarming King. Any sudden moves would put Caitlan in danger. And if he didn't get her out of there soon, chances were King would snap out of the trance she seemed to have him in and turn wild and possibly harm her.

Caitlan inched subtly forward, deeper into the stall. King's ears flattened back and he whinnied, the sound laced with uncertainty. His hoof pawed the ground, yet something in the beast's eyes softened as he watched Caitlan, as if he wanted to trust her.

"You know I won't hurt you, don't you, pretty boy?" Slowly stretching her hand toward King, Caitlan uncurled her fingers and revealed the treat in her palm. "Look. I've got some sugar cubes for you. You only need to come get them."

Hell, the fool woman was trying to sweet-talk the animal into submission. And if J.T. didn't know better, he'd think King was considering the offering in Caitlan's hand. But J.T. did know better, and despite how calm the stallion seemed, it would only take a movement to trigger a tantrum that could kill Caitlan if she didn't get out of the stall in time.

Shoving his apprehension aside, J.T. moved stealthily into the doorway. King's gaze darted in his direction and he snorted. Caitlan, absorbed in her task, didn't glance back.

"Come on, King," she coaxed in a low purr. "Come get the sugar cubes."

Praying Caitlan wouldn't resist his efforts, and King wouldn't charge at them, J.T. moved fast. Lunging into the stall, he grabbed Caitlan's arm in an iron grip and jerked her out through the doorway. Caitlan gasped in surprise just as King reared back on his hind legs and pawed at the air.

Shutting the door, J.T. turned and backed a wide-eyed Caitlan into the wall, pinning her there with his hands on either side of her head. His initial fear for her safety dissolved into anger that she'd been so careless as to approach an animal like King without thinking of the repercussions.

"What the hell do you think you're doing in King's stall?" he demanded, his tone smoldering with fury.

Now that his surprise attack was over, her chin lifted a notch and she shot him a look of annoyance. "Relax."

"Relax?" Pushing off the wall, J.T. raked a hand through his hair, unable to believe she was perturbed at himfor taking her out of a potentially deadly situation. "King could tear you apart, stomp all over you and kill you, and youwant me to relax? I don't even go into his stall. It would be like committing suicide. Look at him." He waved a hand toward King, who punctuated J.T.'s words by kicking fiercely at the stall with his hind legs.

Pacing away from her, he dragged in a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. The clenching in his stomach subsided, and his pulse returned to normal. But deep, deep inside, past all the superficial stuff, he still felt jittery and a little provoked.

Damn! Face it, Rafferty. You aren't so angry at Caitlan as you are with your reaction to seeing her in King's stall. Fear. Helplessness. He cared too much, and caring was an emotion he didn't want to have anything to do with.

He whirled to face her. She hadn't moved, her eyes watching him as if he were a snake getting ready to strike. "I'm sorry," he said, the words sounding rusty, but he felt he owed her an apology for his rough handling of moments before. "You didn't know any better, but dammit, he's unpredictable and dangerous and my only thought was to get you out of his stall in one piece." Scrubbing a hand over his jaw, he resumed his agitated pacing. "Feeding him sugar cubes, of all things! You could have been seriously hurt."

Caitlan pushed off the wall and passed him. At first he thought she was going to walk out on him, but then she stopped in front of King's stall, staring through the slats at the stallion until he quieted.

Her ability to reach the stallion without words unnerved J.T. She crossed her arms over her chest and glanced back at him, her brows drawn over her eyes in consternation. "If he's so dangerous, why did you buy him?"

Sighing, J.T. came to her side. "Because I'd hoped I could break him."

"He's a beautiful animal," she said softly.

Caitlan's gentle serenity whispered to J.T., filling a void in him. He wondered if that was how King felt when she was near. Maybe that was why the animal responded so well to her. "Quite honestly, King wasn't this wild when I first bought him. He was a little spirited, which I liked, but he's gotten progressively worse over the months." He glanced down at Caitlan, looking into her upturned face. "I'm surprised you got as close as you did without him taking a chunk out of you."

She chewed on her lower lip, and he read the hesitation swirling in her violet eyes. Finally, she said, "Someone's been spooking him."

He lifted a brow, her declaration making him uneasy. "After five minutes in King's stall you came to that conclusion?" He forced an amused note to his voice. "I suppose King told you that while you were in his stall? Whispered it in your ear, maybe?"

She glanced away, but not before he saw her annoyance at his teasing remark. "I have… a way with animals," she explained, her attention drawn to the sugar cubes that were beginning to crystalize in her palm. "Your stallion is very spirited by nature, but he has some symptoms of being mistreated."

Her words were spoken with such conviction, he wondered if he should be insulted. "You're not insinuating I mistreat my animals, are you?"

Her gaze flew to his, her lips pursed. "Of course not. You're far too gentle and caring to abuse anything or anyone."

He jammed his hands on his hips, impatient and unsettled by all her observations. "Is my stallion marked?"

"No, not physically."

The woman was a witch, J.T. thought. Or an animal psychologist, if there was even such a thing. In so many words she was telling him that King was scarred emotionally. What a crock! He shook his head, retaining the urge to laugh off this whole verbal exchange. "You're crazy, you know that, lady? I'm going to just forget we ever had this weird conversation." He turned and started for the door. At the last minute he stopped and glanced back at her. "And stay out of his stall, Caitlan."

Caitlan watched J.T. slip out of the barn; then she moved to King's stall. She knew her comments about King's emotional abuse sounded strange to J.T., but she had no concrete evidence with which to back up her claim; only this strong sense she shared with the stallion.

Looking through the slats, she met King's gaze and knew in that moment that the stallion trusted her. "Good boy," she murmured, smiling. "I have a feeling you and I are going to become good friends."