berserk and no amount of expert handling would make any difference.
Ruth's body twisted one way and Cole lunged the other, hauling the woman with him. Preventing a fall now was impossible. Hitting the ground hard would be one helluva lot better than being crushed to death.
He curled his body around Miss Lolita, praying he'd land beneath her and a safe distance from flailing hooves. His shoulder slammed into a rock–pain pierced through his bones. Ignoring the pain as best he could, he pulled the woman's slight form closer to his chest as his body absorbed the shock of their fall.
Pain shot down his arm, but he didn't loosen his grip. The woman was just crazy enough to get them both killed, given half a chance. And he had no intention of giving her that chance.
The horse's shrill neigh reminded Cole of the continued threat. He looked up just in time to see Ruth's descent. She seemed to hang in the air, frozen for several seconds. Nothing could prevent the animal from going down.
Cole scrambled farther down the rocky incline, away from the shadow cast by the horse's broad back. Everything seemed to slow almost to a standstill as he watched.
Cole yanked Miss Lolita from the path of destruction. The mare landed on her side, grunting as she hit the rocks. Her hooves shot a spray of rocks and dirt down the incline, stinging Cole's face and the side of his neck. After a moment, Ruth fell silent.
Cole clenched his teeth, knowing he had to see if the mare was hurt as badly as he feared. He couldn't–wouldn't–let her suffer. "Damn," he muttered, feeling the woman tense against him. "You all right?"
She nodded against his sore shoulder and lifted her head to look at him. Dirt covered her face and she blew a feather from the corner of her mouth. That wild red hair fell in disarray around her small face. At this moment, she more closely resembled a woman raised by wolves–or maybe ostriches–than a famous saloon singer.
"I have to see about my horse," he said.
The sound of sliding rocks jerked Cole's attention back to the animal. He held his breath as the graceful mare swung herself to a standing position with surprising ease.
"She's all right," the woman said, relief giving her voice a breathy quality that seeped right through Cole's bones.
Miss Lolita's gray eyes sparkled like silver in the sunlight. The sight purloined his breath and his heart slammed against his ribs. Other than to lift her head, she hadn't moved since their fall. Still sprawled atop him, her hips were pressed intimately against his.
What the hell was he thinking? Cole needed to put some distance between them damned fast. "My mare," he repeated, reaching for Miss Lolita's shoulder to ease away her soft, appealing weight.
But the roundness that filled his palm was far too lush and pliable for a shoulder. Surprised, he looked down to where his hand pressed against her round breast, her dusky brown nipple peeking tantalizingly between two of his gloved fingers.
Cole's throat went dry and lightning whipped through his body, straight to his groin. Then his gaze met hers again, where he found shock and something more displayed in her silver eyes. The something more made him wonder how she would taste. How soft her flesh would feel beneath his lips...
The sun blazed down on them and sweat trickled along the long, pale column of her throat. He followed the moisture's trail, feeling himself grow harder with each beat of his heart until the droplet vanished amid a riotous tangle of feathers.
He ached to remove his glove and close his hand around her breast, to roll her onto her back and cover her with his length, to press himself
Ruth's body twisted one way and Cole lunged the other, hauling the woman with him. Preventing a fall now was impossible. Hitting the ground hard would be one helluva lot better than being crushed to death.
He curled his body around Miss Lolita, praying he'd land beneath her and a safe distance from flailing hooves. His shoulder slammed into a rock–pain pierced through his bones. Ignoring the pain as best he could, he pulled the woman's slight form closer to his chest as his body absorbed the shock of their fall.
Pain shot down his arm, but he didn't loosen his grip. The woman was just crazy enough to get them both killed, given half a chance. And he had no intention of giving her that chance.
The horse's shrill neigh reminded Cole of the continued threat. He looked up just in time to see Ruth's descent. She seemed to hang in the air, frozen for several seconds. Nothing could prevent the animal from going down.
Cole scrambled farther down the rocky incline, away from the shadow cast by the horse's broad back. Everything seemed to slow almost to a standstill as he watched.
Cole yanked Miss Lolita from the path of destruction. The mare landed on her side, grunting as she hit the rocks. Her hooves shot a spray of rocks and dirt down the incline, stinging Cole's face and the side of his neck. After a moment, Ruth fell silent.
Cole clenched his teeth, knowing he had to see if the mare was hurt as badly as he feared. He couldn't–wouldn't–let her suffer. "Damn," he muttered, feeling the woman tense against him. "You all right?"
She nodded against his sore shoulder and lifted her head to look at him. Dirt covered her face and she blew a feather from the corner of her mouth. That wild red hair fell in disarray around her small face. At this moment, she more closely resembled a woman raised by wolves–or maybe ostriches–than a famous saloon singer.
"I have to see about my horse," he said.
The sound of sliding rocks jerked Cole's attention back to the animal. He held his breath as the graceful mare swung herself to a standing position with surprising ease.
"She's all right," the woman said, relief giving her voice a breathy quality that seeped right through Cole's bones.
Miss Lolita's gray eyes sparkled like silver in the sunlight. The sight purloined his breath and his heart slammed against his ribs. Other than to lift her head, she hadn't moved since their fall. Still sprawled atop him, her hips were pressed intimately against his.
What the hell was he thinking? Cole needed to put some distance between them damned fast. "My mare," he repeated, reaching for Miss Lolita's shoulder to ease away her soft, appealing weight.
But the roundness that filled his palm was far too lush and pliable for a shoulder. Surprised, he looked down to where his hand pressed against her round breast, her dusky brown nipple peeking tantalizingly between two of his gloved fingers.
Cole's throat went dry and lightning whipped through his body, straight to his groin. Then his gaze met hers again, where he found shock and something more displayed in her silver eyes. The something more made him wonder how she would taste. How soft her flesh would feel beneath his lips...
The sun blazed down on them and sweat trickled along the long, pale column of her throat. He followed the moisture's trail, feeling himself grow harder with each beat of his heart until the droplet vanished amid a riotous tangle of feathers.
He ached to remove his glove and close his hand around her breast, to roll her onto her back and cover her with his length, to press himself
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