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An Excerpt from The Doubting Heart

Chapter 1

Her shift officially ended over an hour ago and Shelby Holt was anxious to not to lose the few hours of daylight left. The sun had finally reappeared after a week of persistent rain and the cacti would be beginning to bloom--a sure sign of spring in New Mexico. She didn’t slow down to appreciate the flowers; she didn’t want to take the time. But the broad, naked back bent over the water trough, now that, certainly, was something worth stopping to appreciate.

She lowered her gaze, allowing it to linger on hips, admiring the way the faded denim gently hugged the firm, rounded buttocks before falling over what she imaged were strong, powerful thighs. Then he raised his head and she was treated to a glorious view of glistening droplets of water coursing down his back, past where his waist narrowed, to disappear beneath the waistband of his jeans.

Wow! The word reverberated through her mind and her skin glowed warm at the sight. She smiled, bemused by her reaction to the unknown man. Well, it has been a while and there’s nothing wrong with just looking.

He shook his head and began to turn around, the shimmering spray momentarily impeding her view of his face. Then the mist fell away and Shelby swore that everything began to move in slow motion. Her gut twisted painfully and she gasped for air.

“Hello,” he said, smiling as he took a step towards her, not seeming the least bit self-conscious about finding himself the object of her stare.

It can’t be! Her mind tried to take in the familiar features--the strong line of his chin, the slightly sideways smile on his lips, the sandy brown hair, and the brown--no, these eyes were blue. Or were they gray? But everything else...

She knew she was gawking and couldn’t help it; he was so familiar... almost.

“Are you okay?” There was genuine concern in his voice.

He was taller, heavier--in all the right places--younger. And those eyes. Those definitely weren’t Michael’s eyes.

“Yes, thank you.” She stepped back and tried to gather her wits about her. “I... I... Who are you?”

“Chad Gr--Greene,” he said, formally extending his hand to her. “You’re Miss Holt, right?”

For the second time in less than twenty seconds she was caught off-guard. How did he know her name?

“Yes,” she said warily. With reluctance she held out her own hand, only allowing her fingers to brush his before pulling back sharply.

He cocked his head to one side and, with a slight shrug of his shoulders, dropped his arm. “I’m the new hand. The Richards said I’d probably find you around the stables and I should introduce myself since you’re my boss, sort of.”

She couldn’t look at his face--it hurt too much--yet she found it distracting to stare at his naked chest. Her gaze kept falling to his hard abdomen and lower still. “Actually, Wyatt's your boss. He runs the stables. I just try to keep the guests happy. Do you think you could put a shirt on?”

“Wyatt. How great is that? A ranch hand named Wyatt.”

He turned away to retrieve a midnight blue tee-shirt from beside the trough and Shelby was finally able to breath.

“Do you think it’s his real name?” he continued, pulling it over his head.

She willed herself to ignore the familiar sound of his laughter. 

“Why wouldn’t it be?” she snapped. Now, instead of staring at his naked chest, she focused on the jowls of the University of New Mexico Lobo and did her best to take no notice of the muscles stretching tighter the already taut fabric. 

“Well, you know? A ranch? The wild west? Wyatt Earp? Do you think it’s a put-on for the tourists?”

“And what about Chad? Is that your real name?” she said, the coolness of her tone a direct contrast to the burning inside her abdomen. Her body was at war with itself. She could feel a familiar longing that hadn’t been there in weeks fighting the irritation his devil-may-care attitude was causing her. “And besides, we don’t refer to them as tourists. They’re guests.”

“Touché,” he laughed again, further agitating her already frenzied heartbeat. “I admit Chad sounds like I belong on a soap opera or something. I think I was named after an actor on some old TV show that my mother had the hots for. Or maybe it was a doctor.  My mother had a thing for doctors-- Hey, are you okay?” His face became serious and he looked intently at her.

No, I’m absolutely not okay, she thought, fighting the urge to sink to the ground. She needed him to stop talking so she could think. Who was this Chad Greene and why was she reacting to him this way? Sure, he looked like Michael, but he definitely wasn’t. So why did the timbre of his voice send shivers of anticipation down her spine? Why did she feel an aching need in her belly radiating throughout her body?

“I’m fine,” she said weakly. “Maybe a little tired. Shoulder season, you know. The discount guests are always the most demanding.”

“Here, have a seat.”

Before she could back away, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and led her to the wooden bench that rested against the stable wall. As she sat down, he stepped back and gazed down at her. She felt a chill where his arm had been.

“Can I get you anything? Water?”

“No. I’m fine,” she said. “I really need to get going.”

She stood too quickly, anxious to get away, and the ground seemed to fold under her feet forcing her back down. This time, Chad sat down beside her and leaned back against the stable wall, his legs stretched out in front of him. The bench wasn’t very long and Shelby was acutely aware of his thigh resting against hers. She shifted uncomfortably and tried to think of something to say that would take her mind off the tingling along her leg.

“I didn’t know Scott and Donna were hiring for the season.”

He shrugged. “I’m not sure they were planning to, but I came along. I needed a job and my price was right. So, here I am.”

“You know a lot about horses?”

“I grew up with them. It’s been a while, but I think it’s kind of like riding a bike--you know, you never forget.”

Another difference. Michael hated horses--some incident in his childhood had instilled a lifelong fear of them.

She desperately wanted to get up, get away from this man. She had things to do!

Through the wall she could hear the movement of hooves pawing at the ground and the soft whinny of complaint from the horses still inside, trapped in their stalls. She knew just how they felt, but didn’t trust herself to try standing just yet.

“Where are you from?” she asked. Maybe if she appeared okay he would feel he could leave her alone.

“Around. I just finished a tour of duty in the army--Iraq--and I’m not sure where I want to go now. I thought this would be a good transition for me.”

“You’re a soldier? Aren’t you a little old for that?” Too late, she realized how rude that sounded. But he wasn’t a kid; he was older than her, and she had just turned thirty-four. Granted, he was in good shape for his age--well, pretty fantastic shape, she amended remembering her reaction to him at the trough. “Sorry, that didn’t come out right.” Dammit Shelby, why do you always do this? Think before you open your mouth.

But he didn’t seem offended. “Are you casting aspersions on one of Uncle Sam’s finest?” he said in mock horror. “Actually, I’m a reservist. I was glad to do my part. Now I just want to get back my life--whatever that is.”

“What about your family? Friends? Wasn’t there anyone waiting for you to come back?”

He turned his steel-blue eyes on her and as his silence extended, she felt color flood to her cheeks. Just when she was sure he wasn’t going to reply, he spoke.

“No,” he said softly, “there was no one to come back to.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

“You’re not. It’s just... I lost someone recently.”

As he continued to look at her, Shelby felt her face flame and cursed her fair complexion.

Then he broke off his gaze and shrugged. “What about you, Miss Holt? How did you end up at Wildhorse Pass?”

“You mean they didn’t tell you?” Shelby was genuinely surprised. Usually Donna Richards couldn’t wait to tell anyone who would listen about “poor Shelby--she’s a little off, you know. Perfectly harmless, mind you...” Perfectly harmless my ass! You just wait and see how perfectly harmless I am.

“Just that you came here a few months ago with your boyfriend and there was a terrible accident,” Chad said. “You stayed on afterwards.” 

There was no accident! Shelby fought to keep to herself the words that rushed into her mind. Instead, she shook her head slowly and rose, praying her legs would hold. They did. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Chad jumped to his feet. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude. I was just making conversation.”

“No, I’m the one who’s sorry.” Shelby’s gaze traveled up the length of him. He was at least six feet tall and standing so close to him, she had to crane her neck to look at his face.

How could she have mistaken him for Michael? They were similar, but Chad’s body was hard and firm, the body of an athlete. His wasn’t the body of an academic, more comfortable in a library than in the real world, happier riding a desk than a horse. But it was more than that. Chad’s attention was completely focused on her rather than lost in some ephemeral theory. He made her feel as if she was the only thing in his world right now. It took her breath away and she struggled for something to say. Something witty. Something coherent.

“They think I’m crazy, you know.” Definitely not what she was striving for.

Chad’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Really? Who?”

“Everyone.”

“And are you?”

“I don’t think so.”

“But others do?”

“Everyone does.”

“I don’t think you’re crazy.”

“You don’t know me.”

“But I’d like to.”

Shelby sagged. It wasn’t his words that set her head spinning and weakened her knees--she’d been hit on before by the guests who came to the ranch--it was the tone of his voice that stirred a memory. It wasn’t a real memory, she knew, but one she had created for herself and built a fantasy around.

“Look,” she struggled to keep her voice steady, “in the next few weeks everything around here is going to change. We’ll be in high season and there’ll be little time for anything other than work. I think we’d best just focus on that.”

“You can’t work twenty-four-seven. I know there’s a lot to be done, but the Richards don’t seem to be the slave-driving type.”

Shelby took a deep breath, uncomfortable with his suggestion and even more uncomfortable with having to rebuff a man she’d have to work with for the foreseeable feature. “I’m sorry. I just can’t deal with a relationship right now.” There, she said it.

Chad’s face remained impassive. “I don’t remember saying anything about a relationship. I just said I’d like to get to know you better. If we’re going to be working together...” His voice trailed off.

Shelby was mortified. Once again she allowed her mouth to engage before her brain had time to consider the situation. Yet, she was sure he’d been suggesting...

“My mistake,” she said stiffly. “I just want to make sure there’s no misunderstanding.”

He suddenly smiled and a hint of mischief danced in his eyes. “Don’t get me wrong, Miss Holt; another time, another place...”

How did he do that? One second all she wanted was to be swallowed up by the ground and the next she felt her heart soar. But it wasn’t for him, was it? Was it?

“It’s getting late and I really want to get going,” she said, turning towards the stable.

“Are you riding down into the canyon?  I’d like to go with you, get the lay of the land.”

What was it going to take to get rid of this guy? “Sorry. I’ve had a long day. I really just need to be alone now.”

“Okay. No problem. Enjoy your ride.”

She watched dumbfounded as he turned and walked away. That’s it? For twenty minutes I can’t get rid of this guy and then suddenly, poof, he’s gone?

Had she been too abrupt? She wouldn’t want to appear rude...

 “Mr. Greene,” she called to his retreating back. He kept walking, giving no indication he heard her. “Mr. Greene.” Louder this time, but still no response. “Chad!” She saw him give a start and turn towards her, a strange look on his face. “Another time.”

He waved in acknowledgement and continued across the yard.

She watched him climb the steps, cross the veranda and disappear into the main house. That was bizarre. It was as if...

Just stop it! Not everyone is hiding a secret. She paused, the reality of the past few months returning to her. Just you--and someone else at Wildhorse Pass.

© 2008 - Originally entitled Wildhorse Pass

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