swallowed a shot of whiskey instead of sinking into the depths of his gaze. But she had to set her attraction aside. What little advice she could give, he needed it. Soon.
He covered her hand still at the base of his throat. She could see his rapid pulse, feel the anxiety pumping with every beat of his all-American heart. His lips flattened tight with anger, his grip was the tiniest bit too tight, his eyes were narrowed slits. Whatever he was about to say would be brutal so she’d be angry. So he could leave without her.
Or at least try.
Then it was gone. He looked totally relaxed, waiting for her to overreact. Two could play that game and she was much better practiced at it than he. She’d been fooling her parents and DEA personnel for months.
“You still aren’t going without me,” she whispered.
“I didn’t say a word.” He quirked an eyebrow high and dropped her hand.
“Oh...you shouted volumes.”
* * *
N ICK RUBBED JUST under hisshoulder. Probably out of habit instead of it hurting. He almost couldn’t tell anymore. They’d been riding a couple of hours and Beth had been handling her horse well, listening to his instructions without complaint. So what was bugging him?
What wasn’t bugging him?
A week ago he’d had every intention of taking Beth up on her offer to have some “fun” during her stay on the ranch. Every day the objective should have been plain. She looked more than willing, yet he went to bed alone. He liked her. The most surprising thing was that he respected the effort she put into learning ranch life.
Conversation around the dinner table flowed easily about her life in Chicago, shopping or adjusting to West Texas. She’d missed Thanksgiving with her family the week before, so his mom had made a second turkey dinner with all the trimmings. The only thing missing had been a Dallas Cowboys football game.
Not bad on the eyes. He hadn’t known he liked tall women until her horse had thrown her in that water cistern. Her hair was much more than just black. The sun bounced through the strands like blue flames.
She caught him staring at her, but he didn’t stop. He didn’t have to.
“Why in the world do you call this poor beast Applewine? That’s not even a real word,” Beth asked, picking a twig from her horse’s mane near her gloved hands.
“Mom wouldn’t let us call her Apple Vinegar.”
“Now that was just mean, wasn’t it, girl?” She patted the bay’s neck, then sat straight. “Your dad said we should have snow soon. Are you really planning on spending two nights out here in the open?” Beth twisted in her saddle, then stretched in the stirrups. She was clearly uncomfortable.
“You seem kind of...fidgety.” Her movements made him laugh and wince at her discomfort at the same time. “I could radio for one of the men to come get you. I’m not going to get into any trouble up here on my own.”
“Famous last words. How in the world do you keep...um... things from going numb?”
“You’ll get used to it.” He laughed, keeping it low so she wouldn’t get mad. He’d probably laughed more in the past week than during the entire past year.
But then it hit him again, a wave of “nothing in life mattered.” Whatever he did, he wouldn’t stop smugglers from using his land. It was a hopeless dream to try. Maybe he should get out, sell, move. He’d thought about it many times while staring into the mountains. He’d suffocate in a city.
That was the crux of his problem.
Afraid to stay because of his unknown enemies. Afraid to leave because he’d just die a slow death making a living somewhere else.
“I could enjoy this ride a lot more if this were a cool gel saddle.” She stood in her stirrups again, giving Applewine a looser rein, which encouraged the horse to trot. “Whoa, sister.”
“Sit and pull back a little.” Watching Beth’s antics, he should be enjoying the ride a lot more.
His body grew too heavy to move. He couldn’t get the image
He covered her hand still at the base of his throat. She could see his rapid pulse, feel the anxiety pumping with every beat of his all-American heart. His lips flattened tight with anger, his grip was the tiniest bit too tight, his eyes were narrowed slits. Whatever he was about to say would be brutal so she’d be angry. So he could leave without her.
Or at least try.
Then it was gone. He looked totally relaxed, waiting for her to overreact. Two could play that game and she was much better practiced at it than he. She’d been fooling her parents and DEA personnel for months.
“You still aren’t going without me,” she whispered.
“I didn’t say a word.” He quirked an eyebrow high and dropped her hand.
“Oh...you shouted volumes.”
* * *
N ICK RUBBED JUST under hisshoulder. Probably out of habit instead of it hurting. He almost couldn’t tell anymore. They’d been riding a couple of hours and Beth had been handling her horse well, listening to his instructions without complaint. So what was bugging him?
What wasn’t bugging him?
A week ago he’d had every intention of taking Beth up on her offer to have some “fun” during her stay on the ranch. Every day the objective should have been plain. She looked more than willing, yet he went to bed alone. He liked her. The most surprising thing was that he respected the effort she put into learning ranch life.
Conversation around the dinner table flowed easily about her life in Chicago, shopping or adjusting to West Texas. She’d missed Thanksgiving with her family the week before, so his mom had made a second turkey dinner with all the trimmings. The only thing missing had been a Dallas Cowboys football game.
Not bad on the eyes. He hadn’t known he liked tall women until her horse had thrown her in that water cistern. Her hair was much more than just black. The sun bounced through the strands like blue flames.
She caught him staring at her, but he didn’t stop. He didn’t have to.
“Why in the world do you call this poor beast Applewine? That’s not even a real word,” Beth asked, picking a twig from her horse’s mane near her gloved hands.
“Mom wouldn’t let us call her Apple Vinegar.”
“Now that was just mean, wasn’t it, girl?” She patted the bay’s neck, then sat straight. “Your dad said we should have snow soon. Are you really planning on spending two nights out here in the open?” Beth twisted in her saddle, then stretched in the stirrups. She was clearly uncomfortable.
“You seem kind of...fidgety.” Her movements made him laugh and wince at her discomfort at the same time. “I could radio for one of the men to come get you. I’m not going to get into any trouble up here on my own.”
“Famous last words. How in the world do you keep...um... things from going numb?”
“You’ll get used to it.” He laughed, keeping it low so she wouldn’t get mad. He’d probably laughed more in the past week than during the entire past year.
But then it hit him again, a wave of “nothing in life mattered.” Whatever he did, he wouldn’t stop smugglers from using his land. It was a hopeless dream to try. Maybe he should get out, sell, move. He’d thought about it many times while staring into the mountains. He’d suffocate in a city.
That was the crux of his problem.
Afraid to stay because of his unknown enemies. Afraid to leave because he’d just die a slow death making a living somewhere else.
“I could enjoy this ride a lot more if this were a cool gel saddle.” She stood in her stirrups again, giving Applewine a looser rein, which encouraged the horse to trot. “Whoa, sister.”
“Sit and pull back a little.” Watching Beth’s antics, he should be enjoying the ride a lot more.
His body grew too heavy to move. He couldn’t get the image
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