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Unknown Existence
skipped dinner last night and we were worried when you didn’t join us this morning.”
Dacey studied him a moment. As it did every time she found herself in his presence, her mouth watered at the sight of him. Braxton was everything she’d ever dreamed of finding in a man, yet he wanted nothing to do with her.
When he ran his long, tanned fingers through his wavy, black hair, she wished she could do the same.
Covered as it was with a growth of stubble, she wanted to trace the outline of his square jaw with her kisses. Unless his mother insisted he shave, Braxton went for days without removing the dark hair on his face. Dacey didn’t mind at all. She thought it gave him a rascally appearance and enhanced his already irresistible appeal.
She took in the dark gray of his topcoat, the black waistcoat, and light gray shirt he wore. The gray tones enhanced the color of his stormy eyes until the silvery orbs drew her into their depths.
Finally forcing her gaze from his, she looked over his cream riding breeches, neatly tucked into black knee-high boots.
Everything about Braxton Douglas exuded wealth and class.
Even if he’d been interested in pursuing a relationship with her, which he clearly wasn’t, she was a simple ranch girl with no idea how to fit into his world.
The best she could offer him was training his horses until she figured out what to do with her life.
She couldn’t go back to Oregon.
Her friends were all scrambling to start over after losing their jobs in the wake of the factory fire.
There wasn’t a single person she could turn to for help.
The unbelievable generosity of the Douglas family continued to astound her, but she wouldn’t allow herself to grow accustomed to it. After the holidays, she would leave, even if she had no idea where she would go.
It was because of their kindness, the way they’d opened their home and hearts to her, that she felt sick about the way she’d lost her temper at Braxton the previous day when he’d spooked the horse.
She knew he meant nothing by it, knew it was an accident, but she’d hollered at him like a bawdy girl in a saloon fight.
Mortified by her outburst, she couldn’t bear the thought of facing him at dinner. She went to bed hoping things would look better in the light of a new day. When she arose that morning, she’d still been too ashamed to sit across the breakfast table from him.
Now, with the heat of his big body penetrating her side, she struggled to articulate the apology she needed to offer for her behavior.
Had she been a man, she held no doubt that Braxton would have fired her or punched her in the mouth yesterday for her disrespectful outburst. Instead, he’d walked off without a word after he made sure she wasn’t injured.
Thoughts of his tender ministrations left her pensive.
“Is something wrong, Dacey?” Braxton asked, snagging her attention. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder while questions filled his gaze.
Tears gathered in her eyes as the warmth of his touch seeped into her being.
How she wished she could rest her head against his chest and cry out all her fears and frustrations. However, that would never be acceptable or welcomed.
“Yes,” she whispered, swallowing hard as she tamped down her emotions. “Something is wrong, Brax.”
“What is it, Dacey Jo? What’s bothering you?” Braxton started to wrap an arm around her, but she leaned away. He dropped his hand to his thigh and stared ahead as the sun speared golden shards of light through the trees.
The heavy sigh she expelled drew his focus back to her. With her face turned from him, he studied her profile — the perfection of her oval face, the richness of her auburn hair, the narrow shoulders that often strived to bear the weight of the world.
“I’m sorry about yesterday. I shouldn’t have gotten mad at you and I sure as shootin’ shouldn’t have lost my temper. If you don’t want me to work around the horses anymore, I understand. In
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