Storm Warrior

deal with the whole idea. Besides, this horse is going to need to be watched by a trained eye for symptoms of septicemia, edema, any number of things. I’d rather not move her, but there’s no help for it. Lucy will have to be taken to the clinic.”

“A very busy place, and noisy as well. And who will be watching the mare throughout the night?”

Morgan sat on a stump with a deep sigh. “The clinic is busy. We have three vets and three technicians, and all of us run full tilt full time. But I’ve got to give this animal a chance. I have a couch in my office; I can sleep there for a while. I’ve done it before.”

Most recently, she’d done it for him, Rhys thought. “Let me do it.”

“Do what?”

“Bring the mare to your farm and let me have the care of her.”

Morgan studied him for a long moment. “You’d have to stay with her,” she said at last.

“Of course.” Rhys studied her as well. She was a clever woman and knew full well that there was much more than the horse involved. If she agreed, she would be granting him a high level of acceptance. She would be welcoming him onto her turf, the same turf she’d sent him away from only a short time before. He’d gone because she’d wished it and because he was still half-stunned with the shock of being a man once more. But he wouldn’t leave again. He had a vow to fulfill.

“Well, there are hired man’s quarters off the back of the stable. Nothing fancy, but it’s got plumbing and electricity. The place hasn’t been used for a couple years, though. Not since Jay and his wife stayed there for a week while their house was being painted.” She ran her hands through her hair, considering. “Right now it’s dusty and God knows how many mice have moved in. Jay fixed the shower, but I couldn’t speak for how well the woodstove works—they didn’t use it. There’s a bed and a table and chairs, but that’s all. It wouldn’t be much better than camping, especially now that fall is almost here.”

He shook his head. “I’ll sleep in the stable where I can hear the mare if she stirs. You’ve no cause for concern over my comfort. I’ve spent the night in fields many a time, waiting for foals to be born.” That the open fields had been far better accommodations than his Roman captors had allowed him didn’t bear mentioning.

Morgan was thoughtful for a few moments, then nodded. Decision was written in her face. “I’m going to owe Leo big-time for stealing his handyman, but you have yourself a job.”

NINE

The barn was old and empty, but it was clean. There was a corner box stall for the big mare. One of Julie Kendrick’s neighbors had dropped off a few dozen straw bales and some hay and feed, promising to bring more. By the time night fell, Lucy was as comfortable as Rhys and Morgan could make her.

Human sleeping quarters were easily set up in an adjacent stall. Rhys turned down Morgan’s offer of a folding cot from her guest room. Instead, he broke open some straw bales into a great heaping pile and topped it with the blankets and quilts she’d brought him. She had to admit it looked a lot more comfortable than the narrow cot would have been for his large frame. He welcomed a few other amenities, though, which she set up alongside the grain bin on the opposite wall. A lamp, a small table, a pair of chairs. Rhys didn’t want to leave the injured mare alone in her new surroundings, not yet, so the last thing Morgan brought was a tray of sandwiches and a thermos of coffee.

They ate side by side, watching the big dapple-gray horse. The mare looked worn and tired, her big head drooping and her white mane falling forward over her half-closed eyes. The only thing that gave Morgan hope was that Lucy was surprisingly steady on her feet. The mare favored the worst leg, but the others weren’t weak.

“What is the mare used for?” asked Rhys. “I could find no trace of harness marks on her.”

“She’s more of a big pet than anything. Julie’s father used to have a team of heavy horses that he used for special occasions. He drove a wagon in local parades and gave hayrides and sleigh rides and such. Lucy has a good temperament for it, but it’s Julie that doesn’t handle the crowds well. I think she finally realized it just wasn’t for her and she sold the wagon, but couldn’t bring herself to sell Lucy. Julie used to ride her sometimes, but a saddle big enough for a draft horse weighs a ton and she can’t lift it alone. So now, Lucy simply spends a lot of time in the pasture.”

“It’s a shame. She’s a fine ceffyl, strong and steady. My father would have given his eye teeth to breed her to our stallion, Draig.”

“Draig?” She knew she’d heard that word in Nainie’s stories. “Doesn’t that mean dragon?”

“Aye. He had a fiery red coat, and he was dragon tempered for sure. The only horse that ever bit me, and he did it for sheer spite.”

“I had a poodle do that to me in my first year of practice. I swear he smiled after he did it too.”

“I think Spike enjoys it at times too. I think he must have been a terror when he was young.”

“So far he’s bitten everyone at the clinic except me and Anne-Marie, our receptionist. He hasn’t gotten you yet?”

“So far, no.” Rhys rapped his knuckles on the wooden grain bin and grinned.

Mentally, Morgan grabbed the reins of her hormones as they threatened to stampede before that winning smile. Just don’t look at his face. She changed the subject for good measure, trying to focus on something, anything, else. “So I just came back from Wales and I saw so many wonderful little places. Gwen seemed to like the bigger cities, like Swansea and Cardiff, best, but I think I fell in love with the villages. Which one are you from?”

“Who is Gwen?”

“She’s an older woman I met on my tour. We roomed together and had a lot of fun, and I was hoping we were friends.”

“I’m certain that she’d want to be friends with such as yourself.”

Morgan laughed a little. Such as yourself. Nainie would have phrased the words the same way. “I’ve tried and tried to contact Gwen since, but I’ve had no luck. The phone rings, but no one ever answers it. Jay says she’s probably off traveling somewhere. I’m probably just extra disappointed because she reminded me of my grandmother so much.”

They talked about her trip to Wales for well over an hour, but it felt like only a few minutes. Rhys was familiar with the places she’d visited on her trip and was able to add a great deal to what she’d already learned about them. Of course, if he’d been reading her the phonebook, she probably would have been just as fascinated. She loved the cadence and lilt of his words, his manner of phrasing. Morgan enjoyed a deep, rich voice in a man, but mixed with a Welsh accent, the effect was devastatingly sexy. As if he needed the help! The physical packaging of the voice was drool-worthy enough. The fact that he was intelligent and insightful as well made him practically irresistible. If she didn’t leave soon, she wasn’t sure she’d want to.

And it was that, more than anything, that decided her.

“I’ll say good night now, Rhys. I have to get up in the morning.” It wasn’t quite true. She didn’t work until noon on Saturdays, but she had to get up sometime, right? “Thanks for all your help today and especially for watching over Lucy.” She tried to stand up, but he stopped her with a big hand on her arm.

“You have a very kind heart in you. ’Tis a rare thing and beautiful to see. My thanks to you.”

Her heart pounded in her ears as she studied his powerful hand, the strong fingers resting gently on her arm. Warmth radiated from his skin to hers, and she wondered what that hand might feel like on other parts of her body…

She murmured, “You’re welcome,” and left as fast as she could, hoping it didn’t look as if she were running away. Even though she most definitely was.

It was only later, as she set her alarm clock, that she realized Rhys never answered her question about where he’d been born. And he’d managed to reveal exactly nothing about his life, his background, or anything else.

Damn it.