Rancher Under Cover. Carla Cassidy

rode like a cowboy intimately familiar with the saddle, and she found herself wondering how he’d shown up at the O’Donahue ranch at such an opportune time.

      Caitlin knew her father had been dissatisfied with the former foreman, Garrett Simms, for a long time, but had felt sorry for the alcoholic who played the victim card each time Mickey had tried to fire him.

      But even Mickey wouldn’t be able to overlook the abuse or neglect of any of his beloved horses, and there was no way Simms would be welcomed back this time. If nothing else she’d make sure of that.

      She glanced at the man next to her and told herself not to look a gift horse in the mouth. Who knew why his timing was so perfect? The fact of the matter was, he was here and he seemed competent, and that would do until her father got home.

      All thoughts of the man fled from her mind as the herd of horses came into view. Mickey O’Donahue had never wanted to raise champion race horses; rather he’d made part of his massive fortune raising good-natured saddle stock that was sold to individuals and various stables around the country.

      The herd consisted of Tennessee walkers, mustangs and American quarter horses in a variety of colors and sizes. Caitlin pulled the reins to bring Buttercup to a halt and Randall reined in next to her.

      “The pasture is a bit thin from lack of rain,” he said. “What I’d like to do is add some oat hay into their diets until spring.”

      The horses did look lean … a little too lean. “Sounds reasonable,” she agreed. “We work with Wilson’s Feed Store. I’ll call them when we get back to the house and place an order. They should be able to deliver it first thing in the morning.”

      He nodded and then pointed into the distance. “Over there by the fence is where I found the mare tangled up in the barbed wire.”

      She headed for the area with Randall close behind. Once again they came to a halt and she looked around with a frown. “I can’t imagine how any barbed wire got here. Dad has never used it anywhere on the property.” Despite the higher cost, solid wooden fences surrounded the pastures on the O’Donahue ranch. Mickey had never considered the cheaper alternative of barbed-wire fencing.

      “It looked as if somebody had just driven by and tossed it out of a truck or something,” he replied. “After I got the horse loose I pulled it all out and took it to the dump.”

      She slid another glance his way, once again wondering where he’d come from and how he’d wound up here. “I’d like you to bring me that résumé we discussed earlier sometime this afternoon,” she said.

      “Not a problem,” he replied agreeably. He shifted his weight in the saddle. “I understand you’ve been out of the country for a while.”

      “For a couple of months. I’m a plastic surgeon and was working in South America with Doctors Without Borders.”

      “Wow, must have been an amazing experience.”

      A sudden surge of emotion rose up in the back of her throat and she swallowed hard against it. Amazing wasn’t exactly the adjective she’d use to describe her experience.

      “I’m ready to see that mare now.” She turned Buttercup around and as she headed back to the house she allowed the horse full rein. Buttercup responded by breaking into a run.

      Caitlin hunkered low, the breeze in her face, the power of the animal beneath her easing some of the tension that had coiled tight inside her in the time since the attack.

      She was vaguely conscious of her hair coming loose, flying wildly around her head as Buttercup raced like the wind. A sweet exhilaration filled her.

      She’d needed this … the wild abandon that coursed through her as she became one with the powerful horse. She gave herself to the moment, giving up any effort of control as she raced across the pasture.

      All too quickly the small corral near the house came into view and she pulled on the reins to slow her gait, the moments of thoughtless pleasure now gone.

      She pulled Buttercup to a halt and dismounted as Randall caught up with her. “That kind of riding is what I call chasing out the demons,” he said as he dismounted, as well. His gaze slid the length of her, a lazy perusal that instantly jacked the tension back inside her. “So, Caitlin O’Donahue, exactly what demons were you exorcizing?”

      There was a gleam of intelligence in his vivid green eyes and for some reason she felt as if he was attempting to peer into her soul.

      It was a soul so shattered, so damaged that she wasn’t sure she would ever let anyone in, especially not some hot cowboy she didn’t know.

      “No demons here,” she replied as she broke eye contact with him. “I just enjoy the wind in my face.” She tied up Buttercup and then looked at the mare in the corral.

      The horse had run to the far corner of the enclosure when they’d shown up. Painfully thin, it was obvious she was both undernourished and frightened.

      “Garrett Simms should be shot,” she exclaimed, not hiding her disgust.

      “My sentiments exactly. I have no idea how long she was trapped in the wire, but from the look of her it was quite a while.”

      “Part of his job was riding the pasture to check on the health and well-being of the horses and it’s obvious he wasn’t doing his job. Good riddance is all I can say.” She opened the gate and stepped into the corral with Randall following her.

      The horse, a young mare she recognized, pawed the ground nervously as her ears went back flat. “Her name is Molly,” Caitlin said. “Is she eating okay?”

      “She’s eating fine,” he replied.

      “You said she has some wounds on her?”

      “On her backside,” he replied. “I’d like to wash them out with some saline water and maybe get some antibiotic cream on them. I was hoping she’d calm down, but I’m not sure that’s going to happen and she really needs to be tended to. I can probably lasso her and maybe you could hold her head while I work on the wounds.”

      “That sounds like a plan,” Caitlin agreed.

      “I’ll be right back.”

      Caitlin watched as Randall left the corral and headed for the nearby barn. He walked with a loose-hipped gait that screamed of sex appeal, and it surprised her that in her present state of mind she found him more than a little bit attractive.

      She didn’t want to go there, not with him, not with any man, not for a very long time. The very thought of a man touching her in any way filled her with a sickening revulsion and made her realize just how wounded she’d been left.

      It didn’t take long for him to return with a length of rope, the saline solution and antibiotic cream, and a lightweight navy towel. He placed everything on the top of a fence post except the rope, which he gathered in his hands as he reentered the corral.

      “This might take a few minutes,” he said. “She’s really frightened.”

      It was obvious Molly was scared to death. Her ears were pinned back and her tail was tucked between her legs as she backed away from Randall.

      “Hey, baby girl,” Randall said, his deep voice smooth and low. “Hey, Molly girl.” He handled the rope as well as he’d ridden in the saddle.

      As Molly sidestepped nervously and rolled her eyes, the terror the mare was obviously feeling resonated deep inside Caitlin.

      Trapped.

      The mare felt trapped, and Caitlin knew exactly how that felt. Caitlin’s heart began to thunder with frantic beats as a shaking began deep inside her. Her throat narrowed, making her feel as if she were choking. Her chest ached as she tried to keep breathing.

      Hands holding her down, men jeering and laughing at her terror. No way to fight back. No way to free herself from the danger.

      She