Her Small-Town Cowboy by Mia Ross Page A

he?”
    “Don’t be giving him a big head now. The last thing I need on this farm is another diva.”
    Lily was about to ask Mike what he meant by that when a commotion erupted outside one of the barns. Looking over, she saw a horse trailer parked there, rocking back and forth as if there was a prize fight going on inside. The banging and shouting was terrifying enough, but then Drew came flying out the back, landing on the ground in a motionless heap.
    “Stay here,” Mike ordered. Then he vaulted over the top fence rail and took off running.
    * * *
    By the time Mike reached the trailer, Drew had recovered from his violent flight enough to push up on his hands and knees. Shaking his head, he squinted into the shadowed interior. Apparently, he didn’t like what he saw, because he scrambled off to the side like a crab fleeing a diving seagull. Mike knew what that meant, and he hollered, “Open the side door!”
    No sooner had Drew done that than a panicked blur of copper crashed through the half-open hatch and swayed on legs that were covered in fresh gashes. Once the horse had regained his balance, he bolted down the driveway, headed for the nearest patch of open grass. Which Mike just happened to be blocking.
    Holding his arms out wide, he braced his legs shoulder-width apart and held his ground. He had grown up around horses, and his father had taught him from childhood that they were flight animals and wouldn’t bowl you over unless they were caught up in a stampeding herd and had no other choice.
    Mike was counting on that instinct right now. The horse barreled close enough for Mike to recognize it as a stallion, and despite the imminent danger he was probably in, he summoned his calmest tone. “Whoa, now. No one’s hurting you, boy.”
    The terrified animal’s eyes nearly popped out of its head, and he slid to a halt about a yard in front of Mike. His flanks heaved with quick breaths, and he eyed Mike with what he could only describe as fascination.
    Then, as Drew and a nervous-looking groom cautiously edged closer, the Thoroughbred covered the last few steps between them and rested his head on Mike’s shoulder with a deep, heart-wrenching sigh.
    The trusting gesture triggered an old memory, and Mike wrapped his arms around the horse’s tense, sweaty neck. “Hey there, Chance. It’s good to see you, too.”
    “I’ll be,” Drew muttered, still out of breath. “Things were so hectic at the track, I didn’t recognize him.”
    “This is our killer horse?” Mike asked, reaching from behind to rub the sorrel’s forehead in a comforting motion. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
    “No lie,” his younger brother confirmed. “They retired him last fall and have been trying to retrain him for riding. He’s been nothing but trouble all season, but they thought they’d gotten a handle on it. Out of the blue, he went berserk the other day and put a trainer and two vet techs in the hospital. The owner said he couldn’t take any more risks, so it was here or the slaughterhouse.”
    Mike’s gut tightened at the thought of this beautiful creature being put down because no one could be bothered to find out what was wrong with him. Circling the horse, he stopped so they were face-to-face and looked directly into those dark, intelligent eyes. There wasn’t a trace of the crazed animal he’d seen earlier, and he simply couldn’t believe his threatening tantrum had cropped up all on its own.
    “Did he seem okay when you picked him up?” he asked Drew.
    “Yeah, but the vet had sedated him to make sure we’d all be safe. Like I said, they’ve been having a lot of trouble with him.”
    “Then what happened?”
    While he listened to the uneventful report, Mike went over the former racehorse inch by inch, searching for a sign of what was bothering him. Nothing stood out, and he ended up back in front of the horse, totally baffled.
    “He went on the trailer fine,” Drew finished with a frown. “When we untied