Marrying Dr Maverick. Karen Rose Smith

out of the truck and headed for the large, white barn.

      “Does Mr. Findley run cattle?” Jazzy asked to soothe the awkwardness and start conversation between them once more.

      Brooks responded without hesitation. “No. No cattle. Sam’s livelihood didn’t get affected like some. He’s a wilderness guide. Hunters and tourists stay at the farmhouse, and he has two cabins out back. He stays out there if he has women guests who would rather be alone in the house.”

      “Sounds like a gentleman.”

      Brooks shrugged. “It’s good business. A reputation goes a long way out here. But then you should know that. I imagine Thunder Canyon is the same.”

      “It is.”

      A tall, good-looking man with black hair and gray eyes came to meet them at the barn door. Brooks introduced Jazzy. “She’s one of the volunteers from Thunder Canyon, but she’s hanging with me today.”

      As Sam opened the barn door for Jazzy, he said, “Brooks has some kind of magic touch that I haven’t had with Sparky ever since the flood.” Sam shook his head. “I was the one who rescued him along with a couple of others, and maybe I hurt him without knowing it.”

      “Or maybe you just remind him of what happened,” Brooks said easily. “Horses remember, just like cats and dogs. It’s why a visit to the vet is so traumatic for some of them.”

      “He lets me feed him, but he won’t take a carrot or sugar cube like he used to,” Sam added regretfully. “And getting into his stall is a major undertaking. Are you used to being around horses?” Sam asked Jazzy, looking worried.

      “Yes, I am. A friend rescues them and I help her out. I promise I won’t go near Sparky if he doesn’t want me near him.”

      “Do you want me to stay?” Sam asked Brooks.

      “If you have things to do, and I’m sure you do, there’s no need. We’ll be fine.”

      Sam nodded, tipped his Stetson to Jazzy and headed back toward the house.

      She watched him thoughtfully. “For a small town filled with gossip, I never heard anything about his tours while I’ve been here.”

      “Sam keeps a low profile, mostly advertises on the internet, attracts a lot of tourists from back East.”

      “Is he from here?”

      “Nope, and nobody knows where he came from. He doesn’t talk about himself much.”

      “Are you friends?”

      Brooks thought about it. “We’re something between acquaintances and friends.”

      “So that means you talk about sports and livestock.”

      Brooks chuckled. “I guess you could say that. You can add the goings-on in Rust Creek Falls, which is a topic of conversation for everyone. Come on, let’s see Sparky. Sam has it rigged up so the stall doors open to the outside corral. He can come and go as he pleases.”

      “That’s smart. Freedom’s important to an animal that’s been traumatized.”

      Brooks eyed her again as if trying to figure out who she was. Good luck, she thought. She was still trying to figure that out herself. Coming to Rust Creek Falls had changed her in some elemental way. Sure, in Thunder Canyon she had her family and her job. But she didn’t want to live vicariously through her sisters and brother. She didn’t want her family to be her world, and she certainly wanted her job to be more exciting than the one she had, or at least promise a better future. She couldn’t get promoted without a degree, so she was going to get that degree.

      “Let’s take a look at Mirabelle first. Sparky will hear us and get used to us being around.”

      Jazzy had made a quick judgment about Brooks when she’d met him at the Ace in the Hole. The more she learned about him, the more she realized she’d been right. She’d been able to tell he cared about his dad. Now she could see he felt deeply about the animals he cared for. Just why did this man never intend to marry?

      Mirabelle, a bay, was cavorting in the corral beside Sparky’s. When she saw Brooks, she neighed.

      Jazzy smiled. “She likes you.”

      “What’s not to like?” He almost said it with a flirting tease, but then he sobered. “I’ve been treating her for a few years. One weekend, Sam had an emergency and couldn’t reach my dad, so he rang up our practice. I was on call. Since then, I’ve been taking care of his horses. Gage Christensen’s, too.”

      “The sheriff,” Jazzy said, knowing Gage a little. They’d had a dinner date, but things never went any further.

      “Yes.”

      “While I was at the elementary school working, I heard that he and Lissa Roarke are engaged.” When she and Gage had dined at his office, his mind had definitely been elsewhere. Probably on Lissa, who’d flown in from the East to organize volunteers in Rust Creek Falls on behalf of an East Coast relief organization.

      “So that’s all around town, too?” Brooks asked.

      “Lissa has been doing so much to get help for Rust Creek Falls that her name pops up often, especially with the volunteers.”

      “Gage went through a tough time after the flood, but he sure seems happy now.”

      “We had dinner,” Jazzy said.

      “Dinner? With Gage?”

      “I stopped in at the sheriff’s office to ask for directions. He and I started talking and one thing led to another. But his mind was elsewhere—I think it was on Lissa. That was soon after she arrived.”

      “You mean he asked you out because he didn’t want to think about her?”

      “Something like that, though I don’t think he realized it at the time.”

      Brooks looked pensive as Mirabelle trotted toward him. He glanced at Jazzy. “Do you feel comfortable being out here with her?”

      “Sure. Is there anything special you want me to do?”

      “I’m just going to check her overall fitness, and make sure nothing insidious is going on. After a flood, all kinds of things can develop.”

      When Mirabelle came up to Brooks, Jazzy let the horse snuffle her fingers. That ritual completed, she petted her neck and threaded her fingers through the bay’s mane. She talked to her while Brooks examined her. He checked one hoof after another, then pulled a treat from his back pocket and let her snatch it from his palm.

      “She’s the easy one,” he remarked. “Now let’s go check out Sparky.”

      Jazzy could easily see Sparky eyeing them warily, his tail swishing. “How do you want to do this?” she asked.

      “We’re going to sit on the fence and let him come to us.”

      “Do you think I should be sitting there with you, or should I go inside?”

      “Let’s give it a try. You can’t force a horse to communicate with you. If I’m patient with Sparky, he usually comes around.”

      “He hasn’t for Sam?”

      “Sam was on a guiding tour when the rain started, but he got back in the nick of time. Sparky’s tolerating Sam. But I think that has to do with the flood and the rescue, maybe a sense of abandonment. Animals have it, too.”

      Had Brooks felt abandoned when his mother died? Had his father been there for him? Maybe that was at the root of their discord.

      Brooks opened the gate at the rear of Mirabelle’s corral, and they walked out.

      “Sparky was watching us while we were tending to Mirabelle, so he knows we’re here.” Brooks went along the fence a little ways then climbed the first rung and held his hand out to Jazzy. She thought a man’s hands