The question startled her. She was so focused on them being scared of her, she didn't realize Jensen

would think it might be vice versa. "No. I used to love horses." She'd once had the prettiest, sweetest-tempered mare. She realized that was the first time she'd thought of Sunny in decades. Although she had wondered, when she'd first changed over, what happened to her dear horse. She needed to ask her brothers what happened to her. "Used to? Did you get injured by one?" "No. I... " Another thing she couldn't explain, not fully, not totally honestly. The open smile of the blonde in the pictures appeared in her mind. "I just haven't been around them for a very long time." Jensen caught her fingers, pulling her toward the door. "Then you should come with me." He hurried her down the stairs and to his truck as if he knew she would argue. Once she was deposited onto the seat and he was inside as well with the engine running, she did try to change his mind. "Animals tend to be very skittish around me."

Jensen gave her a disbelieving look. "Yeah, so I've noticed."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because you have owls and skunks hanging out in your barn while you work. Because deer come right

up to your porch. And if I recall correctly, a mouse was on your kitchen counter this morning, like it was

your pet." "That was all very, very unusual." Okay, even he found those animals' behaviors odd, and he didn't have the whole story.

But horses seemed to be particularly sensitive to werewolves. She didn't know why.

"I'll just wait in the truck. I think that's the best plan."

He looked like he wanted to argue, but he only nodded.

After a few more turns, he pulled the truck up to a white farmhouse with black shutters. A man came out

to meet them before Jensen could even hop out of the truck.

"Lee, is the horse worse?" Jensen asked, reaching back into the truck for the black bag.

"'Bout the same. I'm just coming out to tell you that Missy just called, and she can't get the old station

wagon started. She's over in Hillsboro with the kids, so I'm going to have to head over there. Are you okay to tend Ginger without me?"

"Sure. Go on. I have Elizabeth with me if I need someone to help hold her."

Lee, a man in his late thirties with salt-and-pepper hair and a lined, leathered face, nodded at her and tipped his worn cowboy hat. "I appreciate you coming over here on a Sat.u.r.day."

"Not a problem," Jensen said. "Go on. I'll handle the mare."

"She's being more than a little ornery. Be careful. I really do hate to leave."

"It's fine," Jensen a.s.sured him, not seeming the least bit worried about the owner's warning.

Lee thanked him again and then loped toward a beat-up pickup truck that seriously looked like it had no

more hope of starting than the mentioned old station wagon. But the ancient vehicle did start, rumbling

grumpily as Lee turned out onto the main road. Jensen started toward the barn, and she remembered his past mention of getting kicked in the head by a horse once. Although she really didn't believe she could be the slightest bit of help-in fact, she might just make matters worse-she had to call after him.

"Wait!"

Jensen stopped, turning to look at her.

She opened the door and jumped down from the truck. "I want to go. I don't think I'll be much help,

but at least I can call 911 if this crazed horse injures you." Jensen shook his head. "Elizabeth, if the horse is really going to make you nervous, then you don't have to go." "Whatever. You dragged me here. I'm going." Jensen waited for her to join him, and laughed at her disgruntled mutter. As they approached the barn, Elizabeth tensed, her steps slowing. All she needed was for this poor horse to go totally wild and really hurt Jensen. Still, she felt she had to be there. Jensen shouldn't be alone with an animal that was unpredictable. She thought of her behavior that night that she'd started to change, the night that she still believed she could stay away from this man. He'd been as close to a feral, dangerous animal as he could get. Thank G.o.d she'd somehow controlled herself. Even now, she shivered at what could have happened if she'd totally shifted.

Jensen pushed open the large barn door and headed straight to the last stall. "Have you been here before?" she asked, casting a wary glance at the few horses that bobbed their heads over the stall gates. They sniffed the air, their large nostrils flaring and twitching as she pa.s.sed. But none reacted with fear. "Yes. And I know that Lee puts his sick horses in the last stall. It has a little more s.p.a.ce than some of the others." He stopped at the stall he mentioned, opening it slowly. Before he stepped inside, he spoke to the horse low and even. Most of his words were rea.s.surances that he wouldn't hurt the ailing animal, but it wasn't the words the animal would react to, it was his tone. He also kept his movement slow and fluid. Nothing to jar, nothing that would threaten. He set down his bag and then carefully reached for the animal's nose. He touched it, murmuring more quiet rea.s.surances. Then he turned to Elizabeth. "I really think she'd be okay for me to look at alone, if you are nervous." "No," she said, keeping her voice low, too. "I'm okay." In fact, she was fascinated, watching him work.

His gentleness, his calmness soothed her, too.

He left the horse and went to his bag. When he unzipped it, the horse shifted a little, reacting to the sound. Jensen stopped and again talked quietly to the animal, although this time the horse didn't seem to respond so readily. She pranced just a bit, her ears pulling back.

"Shh," Jensen said, easing open his bag and pulling out two syringes. "Shh, big girl. I'm just going to take a little blood and then give you a shot of something that will make you feel better." The horse pranced more, and Elizabeth thought her huge brown eyes were getting a wild glint to them. Jensen continued to talk calmly as he readied the syringes. The horse seemed to respond a little, but when Jensen rose, though he also kept that movement fluid, the horse pranced back, her nostrils flaring, a huffing noise escaping her.

Jensen didn't back away, but he didn't move forward, either.

"Elizabeth," he said, not looking at her but keeping his eyes trained on the animal, "I think I might need you. But if she gets too agitated, I'll just have to wait until Lee gets back."

Elizabeth hesitated, afraid that she was the problem. She didn't believe approaching the horse would

really help.

Still, she could see that Jensen did need help. And if she agitated the horse more, then he'd leave with her and wait for the owner.

Carefully, she stepped into the stall, the hay under her feet making her approach noiseless. She stopped

a few feet from the animal, suddenly a little scared that she might get trampled.

The horse whipped her large head in her direction, eyes definitely hinting at wildness, maybe only the kind of madness that accompanied illness, but Elizabeth still had to fight to keep from backing away.

Instead, she held out her palm to the animal. The mare's nose flared, then twitched; then, to her utter

amazement, the horse stepped forward and nuzzled her palm.

She rubbed the velvety nose, remembering how much she'd loved petting Sunny. The horse stepped closer, seeming to want more from her.

She stroked up her forehead and back down. She murmured to the animal, telling her how pretty she was. How good. All the while, the horse nuzzled her back.

"Okay. Done."

Elizabeth blinked and turned to gape at Jensen. He was moving back to his bag to drop the empty antibiotic syringe and blood sample into his bag.

"You already did it?" She blinked again. "She didn't even react."

Jensen grinned at her. "She was too busy adoring you."

As if in agreement, the horse nuzzled her hair, the brush of her velvety nose making Elizabeth giggle.

Jensen looped his medical bag on his shoulder, then moved to pet the horse, who didn't even

acknowledge the touch. He stepped out of the stall and waited for Elizabeth.

Elizabeth whispered good-bye to the sweet horse. Then she stepped outside, too. Jensen secured the

gate.

"You should have told me you're a horse whisperer," he said as they left the barn.

"I didn't know I was." She was shocked at how the horse had reacted.

"Well, I think I'm going to have to get you on payroll. You'd sure save me lots of injuries from kicks and

bites."

She was sure the horse's reaction had been a fluke. Like the other animals. Although how many flukes could she have?

"Well, I just need to drop this blood sample off to the lab I use in West Pines-then I'm yours for the day."

Elizabeth smiled at his offer, but again she wondered about the blonde in the photos. He'd sure looked like he was hers. Totally hers.

It wasn't even fair to wonder about that woman and what had happened. After all, she'd been far from open with Jensen. She had more secrets than he could ever have. Whoever the blonde was, she hadn't been who Brody was to her.

She was practically married. There hadn't been any vows, there was no ring, but in many ways what she'd agreed to in mating with Brody was even more binding.

Jensen talked to her about what he thought was wrong with the horse-likely an easily treated infection.

Elizabeth nodded and made the appropriate responses, but still her mind swirled around who the blonde had been.

Jensen pulled up to a medical lab that handled his animal bloodwork, too. He labeled and enveloped the sample and put it in the dropbox.

"Okay," he said as he slid back into the truck. "What should we do now? I must admit I'm feeling a little disappointed that we didn't get to play doctor."

Elizabeth smiled-she knew he could play vet with her anytime.

"What's going on?" Jensen asked, turning slightly in the seat to face her. "You have been preoccupied since we left the horse."

She didn't answer, afraid if she opened her mouth questions that she had no right to ask would pop out. "Before we left the house," he added. "On the ride to Lee's, I thought you were just nervous. But now, I think something was bothering you. Still is."

She shook her head. "No. It's just... who is the girl in the picture by your bed?"

Jensen straightened as if her question physically hit him.

"I'm sorry," she said immediately. "I shouldn't have asked."

But Jensen was already shaking his head. "No. I forgot that picture was there. It was just an old-girlfriend."

Elizabeth could tell from the hesitation in his answer there was more to it. Was she the one who got away? Did he still love her? She didn't have a right to know. She didn't.

"I also saw the photo alb.u.m that I guess she must have made." G.o.d, what was she doing? "You look like you were pretty serious." Jensen didn't respond for a moment. His eyes remained focused straight ahead as if he was studying something of great interest outside the car. Finally he cleared his throat. "Yeah. We were pretty serious. Very serious, and she, umm, died." A strange mixture of pain and jealousy raced through her. He'd loved that woman and she'd died. It was horrible. Yet all she could think was that he wasn't over her. He still loved her. And if she were alive, Elizabeth would not be in this truck with him. She made a slight noise, appalled at her own selfishness. Her endless selfishness. She was jealous of a dead woman, yet she was the one with a mate. At least Jensen was unattached, even if it wasn't of his own will.

G.o.d, she needed to get away. She needed to sort out all the crazy thoughts swirling in her head.

"I-I think I should maybe go home."

She expected Jensen to argue. To tell her more about the blonde. But instead, all he did was nod and

turn on the ignition.