his hazel eyes lingering on Dallas.
Enough already, she told herself.
She couldn’t continue this—whatever it was with Conner—any longer. She was
pregnant and not in the market for a man. Certainly not until she’d determined
how, exactly, she was going to continue working while raising her baby as a
single mother.
And any man she did choose wouldn’t have had his job taken from
him by her baby’s father.
Conner might find her attractive now, but that would change the
moment she started to show. Every time he looked at her, he’d be reminded of
Richard.
“You mind holding Molly? If you’re up to it.” He passed her the
mare’s lead rope.
“I’m up to it.” Dallas was glad to help. And glad for something
to distract her from her thoughts about Conner, what they’d once had and what
they possibly could have again.
“If she gives you any trouble,” he said, “just let go of the
rope.”
“She won’t.” Dallas rubbed Molly’s nose. The big horse snorted
lustily before nudging Dallas’s hand in a bid for more petting. “See?”
Dolly, still tied to the tree branch, had lost interest and was
dozing, the deerfly buzzing near her head going unnoticed.
Conner turned toward the injured mare. Amazingly, she’d
remained where she was, not far from Molly. “Here, girl.” He approached slowly,
the rope held at his side.
The mare stared at him, her gaze a mixture of curiosity and
trepidation. She might have been raised by humans, but she didn’t trust them
unconditionally. Her colt stood behind her large, round rump, head peeking out.
If not for the instinct to stay with his dam, he’d have scampered off a long
time ago.
“That’s it.” Conner took another step.
Dallas suddenly remembered her camera. Stuffing Molly’s lead in
the crook of her arm, she started snapping pictures, grateful that there was
still enough light.
How could she have forgotten to take pictures?
Simple. Conner.
He held out his hand, palm up. The mare arched her neck,
sniffed him and jerked back, before sniffing again. Eventually, to Dallas’s
surprise and delight, she let Conner stroke the side of her face. Another couple
dozen pictures were saved to her camera’s memory card.
Murmuring to the mare the entire time, Conner lifted the rope,
letting her sniff it before uncoiling it one loop at a time.
“That’s right,” he crooned. “You know what this is, and you
want to go home. Had your fill of the hard life, I bet.”
Dallas got another shot of Conner and the mare, this one with
the arrow in her neck prominent.
He had just laid the rope over the mare’s neck, well beneath
the wound site, when the low rumble of an engine sounded in the distance. No,
two engines, Dallas thought, peering at the top of the hill and listening
intently.
Their rescue party was arriving, and none too soon.
Wrong. It was too soon, as a glance at Conner confirmed.
He hadn’t completely secured the rope, and when the mare tossed
her head, it slipped off. She backed away, lowering her head and baring her
teeth.
The colt, Dallas suddenly realized. The mare wanted to protect
her baby from danger.
Dallas jumped as the first ATV crested the hill and came to a
stop, the engine whining as it idled. When the driver—it was Gavin; she could
see that now—started toward them, the mare twisted sideways and galloped down
the hill, her colt in hot pursuit. Seconds later, they disappeared behind the
bend, the clatter of their hooves fading to silence.
“Conner!” Dallas called, but it was pointless. There was
nothing he could do, no way he could go after them on foot.
She wanted to cry. Without proper medical treatment, the mare
had little, if any, chance of recovery.
* * *
“W E HAVE TO GO AFTER THEM !”
“We will,” Conner assured Dallas. He’d just finished telling
Gavin and Ethan about the injured mare and her colt. “Just not now. It’ll be
dark soon. And the ATVs will only scare her away. We’ll come back later.
Enough already, she told herself.
She couldn’t continue this—whatever it was with Conner—any longer. She was
pregnant and not in the market for a man. Certainly not until she’d determined
how, exactly, she was going to continue working while raising her baby as a
single mother.
And any man she did choose wouldn’t have had his job taken from
him by her baby’s father.
Conner might find her attractive now, but that would change the
moment she started to show. Every time he looked at her, he’d be reminded of
Richard.
“You mind holding Molly? If you’re up to it.” He passed her the
mare’s lead rope.
“I’m up to it.” Dallas was glad to help. And glad for something
to distract her from her thoughts about Conner, what they’d once had and what
they possibly could have again.
“If she gives you any trouble,” he said, “just let go of the
rope.”
“She won’t.” Dallas rubbed Molly’s nose. The big horse snorted
lustily before nudging Dallas’s hand in a bid for more petting. “See?”
Dolly, still tied to the tree branch, had lost interest and was
dozing, the deerfly buzzing near her head going unnoticed.
Conner turned toward the injured mare. Amazingly, she’d
remained where she was, not far from Molly. “Here, girl.” He approached slowly,
the rope held at his side.
The mare stared at him, her gaze a mixture of curiosity and
trepidation. She might have been raised by humans, but she didn’t trust them
unconditionally. Her colt stood behind her large, round rump, head peeking out.
If not for the instinct to stay with his dam, he’d have scampered off a long
time ago.
“That’s it.” Conner took another step.
Dallas suddenly remembered her camera. Stuffing Molly’s lead in
the crook of her arm, she started snapping pictures, grateful that there was
still enough light.
How could she have forgotten to take pictures?
Simple. Conner.
He held out his hand, palm up. The mare arched her neck,
sniffed him and jerked back, before sniffing again. Eventually, to Dallas’s
surprise and delight, she let Conner stroke the side of her face. Another couple
dozen pictures were saved to her camera’s memory card.
Murmuring to the mare the entire time, Conner lifted the rope,
letting her sniff it before uncoiling it one loop at a time.
“That’s right,” he crooned. “You know what this is, and you
want to go home. Had your fill of the hard life, I bet.”
Dallas got another shot of Conner and the mare, this one with
the arrow in her neck prominent.
He had just laid the rope over the mare’s neck, well beneath
the wound site, when the low rumble of an engine sounded in the distance. No,
two engines, Dallas thought, peering at the top of the hill and listening
intently.
Their rescue party was arriving, and none too soon.
Wrong. It was too soon, as a glance at Conner confirmed.
He hadn’t completely secured the rope, and when the mare tossed
her head, it slipped off. She backed away, lowering her head and baring her
teeth.
The colt, Dallas suddenly realized. The mare wanted to protect
her baby from danger.
Dallas jumped as the first ATV crested the hill and came to a
stop, the engine whining as it idled. When the driver—it was Gavin; she could
see that now—started toward them, the mare twisted sideways and galloped down
the hill, her colt in hot pursuit. Seconds later, they disappeared behind the
bend, the clatter of their hooves fading to silence.
“Conner!” Dallas called, but it was pointless. There was
nothing he could do, no way he could go after them on foot.
She wanted to cry. Without proper medical treatment, the mare
had little, if any, chance of recovery.
* * *
“W E HAVE TO GO AFTER THEM !”
“We will,” Conner assured Dallas. He’d just finished telling
Gavin and Ethan about the injured mare and her colt. “Just not now. It’ll be
dark soon. And the ATVs will only scare her away. We’ll come back later.
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