Page 26 of Where They Belong

“Good.”

Mason turned back to Colt and gestured toward a couple of stalls down, where a dark bay gelding stood. “You can help me with Sid.”

“Whatever you need.”

What he needed was to be wrapped up in Colt’s arms again, to feel that hard muscular body against him . . . His cheeks heated, and he turned to reach for the first thing he saw: a bucket that sat outside Sid’s stall. He needed to get a grip if three simple words in that soft gruff voice had him melting. He cleared his throat.

“Take this to the first aid room.” He passed the bucket to Colt. “There’s some medicated soap in a white-and-gold bottle on the top shelf, just inside the door. Put a capful in the bucket, fill it with warm water, and then meet me at the wash stall.”

Colt nodded, and Mason fought not to watch him walk away. He inhaled deep, exhaled slow, and then haltered Sid.

“Hey, handsome boy,” he cooed as he led Sid from the stall. “How about a little bath to make you feel better?”

At the wash stall, across from the first aid room, he tethered Sid in the cross ties. Sid was skin and bones, riddled with parasites, and suffered from mange. Fortunately, the medication he was on was helping the latter, and a careful refeeding program was helping the first.

Mason handed a soft sponge to Colt after he’d put the bucket of medicated soap water down.

“Gently scrub his skin where the mange has left it bare,” Mason directed.

Colt nodded, dipped the sponge in the bucket, and got to work. Mason watched for a moment to make sure Colt was doing it correctly before wetting his own sponge and starting on the other side.

“What happened to these horses?” Colt asked. There was a sharpness to his tone, but when Mason glanced over Sid’s back, Colt was laser focused on his ministrations.

“All too common story, unfortunately.” Mason sighed, and his heart twisted at the neglect these horses had suffered. “Some assholes should never be allowed to have animals. These three were neglected, starved, and abused.”

Colt shook his head, his mouth turned down. “How did you end up with them?”

“A friend of mine works for the Colorado Humane Society. When they seize horses, I’m the first person he calls to take them in.” Mason gently bathed Sid’s tender skin as he spoke. “I bring them back to good health and then assess them for adoption. Most get adopted out to forever homes, but some end up staying with me permanently.”

“Just how many horses do you have here?”

“Eighty-seven wildies, four permanent rescues, mine and my sisters’ three, eight that belong to the ranch hands, and another half dozen saddle horses for guests.” And he loved every one of them.

Colt was quiet for a few moments and then said, “They’re lucky to have you.”

Surprised at the reverence in Colt’s voice, Mason looked up to find Colt watching him. His eyes were soft but at the same time piercing. Mason dropped his gaze back to his task and swallowed.

If Colt kept looking at him like that, it was going to be hard for him to keep his bubbling emotions in check. All too soon, Colt would be leaving the ranch, and Mason knew already that his heart would be lost to him forever.

Mason rose just as the eastern sky began to lighten. Birds chirped and twittered their merry welcome to the new day. Things had been quiet for a full week, and life on the ranch felt deceivingly back to normal, which might have tempted Mason to let his guard down if not for his constant shadow, Colt Stonebraker, and the seriousness of the brake-tampering incident and resulting crash that could have killed Thad.

Mason glanced over at the clock on his night table. Quarter to four in the morning.

A sense of promise and purpose had him jumping out of bed a second later.

They were heading to the off-range wild horse corrals in Cañon City and would be bringing a dozen mustangs home to give them their freedom back. How he wished he could bring them all home with him. More than that, he wished they never needed homes to begin with.

Dressed for the day, he opened his bedroom door and froze. Colt stood across the hall, hand still on the knob of his own bedroom door and one foot in the hallway. Mason’s breath caught as his gaze collided with Colt’s. His hair was damp from a shower, and the fresh coconut scent of his shampoo drifted on the thickening air between them.

Mason couldn’t deny how much he still felt for Colt, how much he still wanted him, and how after all these years, the dreams of them living happily ever after together on the ranch he’d grown up on had danced back into his mind.

Colt’s gaze dropped to Mason’s mouth, and a rush of desire started a movie reel in the back of Mason’s mind—him crossing the hall, grabbing Colt by the collar, kissing him as though the world was about to end, pressing up against that strong, solid body—he licked his lips.

Nope. He didn’t need a repeat of rejection like he’d received after the spontaneous kiss in the kitchen. He turned and strode down the hall in long, shaky strides. His full focus needed to be on the long day ahead and the wild mustangs he would be bringing home. Not Colt and his sexy mouth and gorgeous body and piercing eyes.

The coffee maker gurgled when he entered the kitchen. Katie had programmed it the night before—best money ever spent—so his morning brew was ready to go. He filled two to-go coffee mugs while begging his libido to chill the hell out.

Fighting his stronger-by-the-minute attraction to Colt was taking a toll, and Colt had taken his protection gig to the max. Apart from bathroom breaks and sleep, he didn’t leave Mason’s side. Even then, Colt was never farther away than the other side of the door. The only breather Mason could get was eating out at the dining hall or at Trina and Brett’s house so he didn’t have to be alone with Colt.

---