Jealousy like she had never felt before consumed her . . . until she read the text.
You don’t have to forgive me, but please forgive your brother. He loves you and is devastated you aren’t coming to the wedding.
Sawyer walked back out of the tack room with a saddle and headed for the door. “Let’s see if you do speak horse.”
“You got a text,” she said.
“I’ll answer it later.”
She should’ve let it go, but she had never been good at letting things go. “Why would Lauren think you aren’t going to your brother’s wedding?”
He froze and turned around. “So you’re not only an eavesdropper, but you also read other people’s texts.”
“I was sitting right here when your phone pinged. It was kind of hard not to look. You’re going to the wedding, right? I mean you can’t not go to your own brother’s wedding.”
“I really don’t want to talk about it, Maze. Now are you going to sing so I can get Angel saddled or not?”
She stared at him. “All the texts you’ve been getting are from your brother, aren’t they? He’s been begging you to come and you’ve been ignoring him.”
“I have a good excuse for not going.”
She shook her head. “Oh, no, you aren’t using me as excuse to skip your brother’s wedding. Me . . . possibly being pregnant is a crappy excuse and your family will know it.”
Sawyer face got that stubborn look she was starting to recognize. “Then I’ll think of another excuse.” He turned, but then froze again. “I wonder who that is?”
Maisy walked over and looked out the door. A brand new gray Dodge truck was coming up the dirt driveway. Behind it was a horse trailer. An empty horse trailer. Suddenly Maisy got a very bad feeling.
“It’s Angel’s owner.”
Sawyer turned to her. “What?”
“Someone in town must’ve tipped him off for the reward.”
“The reward? What reward?”
She grabbed his arm. “The owner put up flyers in town offering a reward for information about Angel. I thought I got them all down, but I must’ve missed one.”
Sawyer stared at her. “You ripped down the flyers?”
“Yes. I don’t want Angel going back to an abusive asshole.”
“Jesus, Maze. We can’t keep a horse that isn’t ours.”
“So you’re just going to let them take him? We both know what will happen to him if he goes back there.”
“We don’t have a choice. There is no way to prove that whoever this is abused him.” He set down the saddle as the trucked pulled to a stop in front of the house. “If this turns out to be his owner, we have to let Angel go.”
Maisy held onto his arm—maybe a little too tightly because he flinched. “No, Sawyer. Please. Let’s just let Chester run him off. He won’t let them take Angel without a fight.”
He sighed and closed his eyes. “I don’t like it any better than you do. But if Chester runs him off, he’ll just come back with the law. And I won’t have Chester and Lucas arrested as horse thieves.”
She knew he was right, but it wasn’t easy letting go of Sawyer’s arm.
“I’m sorry, Maze,” he said before turned and headed out of the barn. The sad part of her wanted to hide in the barn until Angel was gone, but the angry part wanted to confront the jerk who had abused the horse. The angry part won out and she followed Sawyer. A man got out of the truck. He wore a ridiculous ten-gallon hat that was almost as big as he was. He leaned down to adjust it in the truck’s side mirror.
“What a pompous ass,” Maisy said under her breath.
Sawyer shot her a warning look. “Keep your temper in check, Maisy. You catch more flies with honey than vinegar.” He pinned on a smile and lifted a hand. “Good mornin’.”
The man stopped preening and straightened. “Good morning.”
Sawyer held out his hand. “Sawyer Dawson.”
The man shook it. “Daryl Bradley.” He held a hand out to Maisy, but she ignored it.
“This is Maisy Sweeney,” Sawyer said. “She busted up her collarbone so she can’t shake hands. What can I do for you, Daryl?”
Daryl started to speak, but then his attention was pulled to the house. “Does that man have a gun pointed at me?”
Maisy glanced at the house and saw Chester standing in the window with his shotgun pointed right at the man. She laughed and Sawyer sent her another warning look before he spoke. “That’s just my senile grandpa. He’s harmless. So what brings you to the Double Diamond?”
“I think you have my horse. Black Beauty.” Maisy rolled her eyes at the unoriginal name. “At least that’s what animal control told me.” So it hadn’t been someone in town who ratted them out.
Sawyer went to say something, but Maisy cut him off. “Exactly what does Black Beauty look like?”
“He’s a big black stallion.”
“Does he have any other distinguishing marks? Like maybe crop mar—”
Sawyer interrupted. “Why I think we do have your horse, Daryl. We found him on a road not too far from here scared out of his wits. Maisy, honey, why don’t you go on in and get Mr. Bradley something to drink while I take him over to the paddock.”
She knew what he was doing and she wasn’t going anywhere. She might have to give Angel back, but she was going to make sure Daryl knew where she stood on animal abuse.
“I’m sorry, honey,” she said. “But we’re all out of drinks.”
Sawyer narrowed his eyes at her and she narrowed hers right back. Daryl looked between them like he didn’t know what was going on. Sawyer finally gave in and sighed.
“You’ll have to excuse Maisy. She’s gotten kind of attached to . . . Black Beauty. You know how sentimental women can get over animals.”
Daryl nodded as he pulled a perfectly folded bandana out of his back pocket and leaned over to wipe a speck of dust off his high-polished boots. “I know exactly what you mean. My wife is begging for one of those little lap dogs, but I refuse to let her get one. I’m not having my orderly life messed up with hair all over the house and a dog that yaps every time someone rings the doorbell.”
Maisy now understood why Angel had been beaten. The horse hadn’t fit into this uptight jerk’s vision of an orderly life. She knew Sawyer had been thinking the same thing when he spoke.
“What made you decide to become a horse owner, Daryl? Horses can be kinda messy.”
“I’ve always wanted a ranch. And when my stock investment app took off, I decided to buy one. A place I can chill out with my friends on the weekends. And I can’t really call it a ranch if it doesn’t have horses, now can I?” He flashed an arrogant smile Maisy wanted to wipe off his face with her fist.
“Now I don’t know about that,” Sawyer said. “A lot of ranchers have moved away from horses and just use all-terrain vehicles to do their ranching. Have you ever driven one of those? They’re a hoot. And the seats are a lot more comfortable than being bounced around on the back of a horse. Plus, all they need is gasoline and the occasional tune-up. Horses need much more work and attention.”