Washed Away. Carol MarinelliЧитать онлайн книгу.
he liked tall women, and since he was six foot four himself, it wasn’t hard to see why. But it wasn’t just her height that made her stand out. It wasn’t even the appalling baggy clothes she wore. Something told him that under that hideous jacket was a well-toned body. She carried herself regally, her back as straight as a ballet dancer’s. And even though her long dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail, the lush heavy locks, wet from the rain, were straining to escape.
His eyes flicked down to her hands. They were well-groomed, he noted, the nails neat, not too long, an immaculate French polish the perfect touch.
She was, quite simply, beautiful.
“Just the gas, Noah?” Bill asked, seeing the bulging basket of the mystery woman, who was now at the counter, and rudely shouting over her.
Normally Noah would have shaken his head, said something along the lines of “No rush, Bill. Go ahead and serve the lady first.”
And she certainly was a lady, Noah decided as she turned her head and he got a glimpse of velvety brown eyes framed with dark lashes, full dark lips pursing in indignation as he stepped forward to pay. Noah felt his heart skip into overdrive, his brain processing a million details in an instant. Take away the working man’s clothes, take away the heavy boots, and underneath he knew, just knew, she was all woman.
All woman, a certain piece of his anatomy confirmed. But even if she was the most gorgeous woman to hit Turning Point in as long as he could remember, even if Bill’s offer to serve him first could throw him an opening line here, Mother Nature was the only woman who could be on Noah’s mind today.
He needed to out of here.
“Thanks, Bill,” Noah said, handing over his money. “Thanks,” he repeated to the woman, giving her an apologetic smile. And he waited—waited for a shrug, a wide Texas smile and an easy “No problem.” Instead she was frowning, two vertical lines forming on the bridge of a deliciously snubbed nose. “I’m the local vet,” he offered by way of explanation, but her frown only deepened.
“Gotta look after the animals,” Bill chimed in, handing over Noah’s change. “Especially with the storm coming.”
“Oh, sure!” Chocolate Girl bristled. “Don’t mind me.”
Even Bill started at her confident New York accent and almost menacing velvet eyes. “I’m only here to look out for the humans.”
Geesh!
Looks and attitude.
For a second, Noah found himself intrigued. He wanted to prolong the conversation, to see those angry lips move again, to catch another glimpse of those delicious eyes and find out just what this woman was doing in Turning Point. A reporter perhaps? Yeah, that seemed to fit. There were always reporters sniffing around for a story in a crisis. They’d be focusing on the human aspect of the storm, filling a lull in the hard news with some sixty-second human interest story. Noah could certainly picture the camera loving this woman.
But as stunning as she might be, Noah wasn’t about to be spoken down to. “Hey, thanks for being so understanding,” he shot back as he took his change from Bill. Even though his sarcasm was delivered with a wide smile, her frown deepened and he knew he’d ruffled her feathers.
“I’m not,” she bristled, turning around to face him full-on.
If the side view had held Noah entranced, looking directly into her face took his breath away.
She was gorgeous.
Seriously so.
“I know you’re not,” Noah replied in a clipped tone. As gorgeous as she was, her stern gaze had him recovering quickly, and despite his earlier interest, Noah changed his mind. Even if time had allowed, he had no desire to have to justify his work to some uptight city babe who simply didn’t get it—The ringing of his cell phone saved him from thinking up a smart reply, and he chose to move to the relative quiet of the back of the store as Bill unloaded Chocolate Girl’s basket.
“Calm down, Jack.” Noah’s firm voice had the whole store turning to look at him. “No, stay the hell out of the stable. You’ll get yourself killed if you go in while he’s like that. I need you to calm down and tell me just how badly injured he is….”
Everything moved in slow motion for a moment, Bill’s hands running up the total on the till, his eyes trained on Noah, the locals in the lineup holding their breath and hoping that somehow they’d got it wrong, that somehow they were misinterpreting the one-sided conversation. Jack and Sara had pooled everything on the prize stallion, a shining light in their tough times. He couldn’t be going crazy in a stable on the other side of town, badly injured.
“I’ll come now….” Noah said, trying to calm Jack down, to keep the note of fear out of his own voice. And it was genuine fear. A brute of an animal deranged with terror in a confined space wasn’t the ideal combination. His voice trailed off as Jack made his decision, the toughest of calls, and handed the phone over to his wife.
The stallion might be a brute of an animal, but its legs were as fragile as glass, and from Jack’s description, the fracture he had sustained was beyond repair.
Closing his eyes, blocking out the watching audience, Noah listened intently, his voice softer when he spoke next. “I’m right here, Sara. You just make sure Jack’s safe in there….”
There was a long pause. And even though no one in the store heard the shot, everyone knew what had happened. Running a hand over his forehead, Noah spoke again, his voice deep, calm and reassuring.
“I’m sorry, buddy, really sorry. And I know it won’t help now, but you know that you did the right thing.”
Maybe he was out of line, but at that moment Noah was hurting. He wanted to lash out at someone, and it was Chocolate Girl’s eyes that met his as he snapped the phone closed and replaced it in his pocket.
“Oh, well.” He gave a shrug. “I guess it was only a horse.”
MAYBE HE’D BEEN too harsh.
Okay, Noah conceded as he leaned against the truck and took a few deep breaths, he had been harsh. It wasn’t her fault if she didn’t understand how much animals really mattered here in Turning Point. He’d had no right to imply she didn’t give a damn.
She probably didn’t, though, Noah thought, but without malice now. How could anyone, unless they lived on the land, understand the delicate balance between man and beast; contemplate that without the animals, Turning Point would be a virtual ghost town. Sure, there was agriculture, acre after acre of rich soil providing vital crops, but the animals were the beat of the land.
Climbing into his van, he started the engine, watching as the woman ran across the pavement, her long limbs breaking into an effortless sprint as if she were some beautiful thoroughbred. Her long dark ponytail streaming behind her, she held the plastic bags to her chest as if they contained some sort of treasure, and Noah held back the sudden urge to climb out and run over to her, to apologize for his behavior. But what would be the point? he reasoned, pulling away from the pumps and signaling right, glancing in his rearview mirror and seeing her blinker indicating left. No doubt she’d forgotten the whole incident by now and was driving off to wherever the action was, off to report on other people’s misery….
“Hey, Madge.” He smiled as his faithful old dog nuzzled at his hand for a stroke. Dark eyes stared back at him—endearing eyes, but not nearly as endearing as the woman who had just breezed in and out of his life and whirled up a ministorm of her own. His cell phone was ringing again and Noah forcibly pushed the image of Chocolate Girl out of his mind; he had enough to be getting on with today without daydreaming about some woman he’d barely said two words to. That thought was further confirmed as he put the call on to Speaker, frowning as the anxious voice of another usually laid-back farmer filled the van, intermittent bleeps indicating that yet another caller was trying to get through….
And a feeling that had been creeping up for a couple of hours now took hold of Noah. Gripping the steering