Page 27 of Beat of Love
She arched farther back.
“Why. Is the horse. In that condition?” he bit out.
Her mouth dropped open.
Was he accusing …?
Indignation surged through her, and she lifted both her arms and shoved at his chest. Andsheleaned in. “You thinkIdid that to her?”
“Your stables. Your horses.”
“Elsa’s arescue, you moronic asshole,” she hissed.
He blinked. “A … rescue?”
“A rescue,” she repeated. “She’s only been here a few weeks.”
A sheepish look fell across his features. “Guess I made an assumption.”
“Ya think?”
Rafferty swept his fingers through his hair, hooking his hand behind his neck.
He opened his mouth, but she wasn’t done, cutting off whatever he was about to say. “I would never,nevertolerate abuse of any kind in my stables.” She sucked in a breath. “Maybe before you make a judgment call, get the freaking facts.”
He stepped back. “You’re right. And Iamsorry.” Turning to face the three horses, he asked. “What is her story?”
“Her history is uncertain. She was one of five removed from a kill buyer.”
His body spun back to her. “A kill buyer?” he gritted out.
“The man,” she spat, “was pulled over for a broken taillight, but the patrol officer became suspicious, opened the horse trailer, and foundfivehorses jammed into a two-horse trailer. The man couldn’t produce ownership papers, and the horses were confiscated. Turns out he ran a half-cocked business buying horses for slaughter, sourcing them from auctions and online sites. The shelter where they ended up managed to rehome four, but Elsa was a challenge. She hates humans. And hates confined spaces. Point-blank refuses to be stabled, hence the shelter out here in the paddock. She’s been whipped, stabbed, and—”
Brandy stopped, noticing Rafferty’s stricken look. “God.” She reached out but he flinched at her touch, and she dropped her arm. “I rambled on without thinking. I am so—”
“Don’t you dare say you’re fucking sorry.” His voice cracked like a whip. “I’ve had enough pity to last a fucking lifetime.”
She flinched at the heat in his voice. She wasn’t opposed to cussing, but damn — the man could weaponize the f-word.
The sound of pounding hooves snapped her attention.
Elsa.
Galloping straight toward them.
Brandy lurched forward, arms raised to try and flag the horse, but Rafferty was faster. He stepped in front of her, shoving her behind him with one arm while raising the other high, makinghimself big as he waved and shouted to redirect the animal’s path. They both sprang sideways as the mare bore down, but at the last second, Elsa pivoted in a flawless rollback, flinging clumps of dirt and turf across his jeans.
The mare pranced off, tossing her head, full of herself.
Rafferty laughed out loud, grinning like a boy.
And just like that, her fright morphed back into irritation.
“What were you thinking?” she snapped, grabbing his arm and yanking him to face her.
“Wasn’t she incredible?” he said, eyes alight with wonder. “And don’t grouse at me — you were about to do the same thing, Red.”
“Don’t call me that.” She folded her arms and glared, barely resisting the urge to stomp her foot.
