Patricia Thayer - Count On A Cowboy

“And you ride him?” she asked, keeping her distance.

Trying to avoid the horse’s bobbing head, he admitted, “When he lets me. This guy keeps me on my toes.” He rubbed the anxious stallion. “I need to take him out and give him a good run. Later I’ll pasture him so he can run off some of his orneriness. I’d geld him, but first I want to get a few foals sired by him.” He took her hand and walked down the aisle to the last stall and the small black mare with a white blaze on her face. “This is Raven. She’s new to the Lucky Bar L. I’ve only had her a few months, and when she comes in season, I’ll breed her with Red.”

“So you’re in the horse-breeding business.”

“As a rancher, you need horses to run cattle. It’s still the best way to round up the cows.”

“This has to be a lot different than being in charge of soldiers.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Actually sometimes the steers take commands better.”

He saw her smile and his gut tightened. Whoa. This was not the time for him to take notice of a woman. Not this woman, anyway.

* * *

TWENTY MINUTES LATER, in the nineteen-fifties-style kitchen, Brooke sat across the table from Trent eating a ham sandwich and drinking iced tea. She couldn’t stop looking around in amazement.

Although the cabinets where old, they were painted a high glossy white and the tiled counters were a tan with a burgundy trim. A soft yellow covered the walls. The appliances were original, too, but fit in with the decor. This was how she always thought a family kitchen should look.

“I know this room needs to be redone, but right now, it’s on the bottom of my list.”

“Oh, no. This kitchen is amazing as it is. I was just admiring the great condition of everything.”

“You can thank my dad. He was the original recycler, and believed in taking care of things he had. He worked hard at ranching and hated to waste anything.” Trent took a bite of his sandwich. “Since there were so many other repairs on my list, I could only paint the walls and cabinets for now.”

“And you did an excellent job.” She smiled. “With running a ranch and now, the cabins to build, you must be pretty busy.”

“Well, since Aldrich took off with the money, it seems the cabins are on hold until we decide what to do.”

And here she was adding to Rory and Trent’s problems. “Then I show up.”

He paused, his gaze locked on hers. “You have nothing to do with our troubles.”

“No, but I’m adding more, especially for Laurel. Probably the last thing she needs right now is to learn about her...mother.”

Trent took a drink of tea. “Honestly, I don’t know how she’ll react to the news. But you drove all this way to meet Laurel, so sticking around a few days is better than going home without trying to connect, isn’t it?”

She wasn’t sure about that. “Yeah, but look at all the time I’m taking from you. You’re stuck babysitting me until the Quinns get home.”

He leaned back in the chair, and she couldn’t help noticing his muscular chest and those massive shoulders. Did the military do that for him, or the ranch work?

He caught her stare and she quickly glanced away.

“Hey, I’ll take your kind of trouble any day. You rescued me yesterday by helping me pack up all that wedding stuff. You took charge yesterday like a drill sergeant.”

She felt a blush cover her cheeks. “What can I say? I have a knack for getting things done.”

Those dark eyes captured her attention for far too long. She couldn’t let this man get to her. Once he learned the truth about her, he might not like that she’d kept it from him.

He rested his elbows on the table. “Have you ever ridden?”

She swallowed hard. “You mean on a horse?”

He gave her an odd look, but she could tell he was trying not to laugh. “Yes, as far as I’m concerned, it’s the best way to see the countryside.”

“You want to take me riding?”

“You seem surprised. I’m sure your sister will want to show you around, too.”

“To be honest, I’ve never been on or around a horse until today.”

Brooke’s first instinct was to say no, but then she realized she’d never taken time just for herself. And why wouldn’t she want to go riding with this rugged cowboy? “I’ll go, but only if you put me on a gentle horse. You’ve got one named Poky or Snail?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you’re safe.”

She wanted to believe him, but something deep told her if she wasn’t careful she could get hurt, and in more ways than one.

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