Tossing her head, her black hair brushing her shoulders, Jenny laughed. “Okay. See you back at the OK Corral.” She waved to the children to halt their horses at the gate.
With a sigh, Libby steeled herself to meet Dan. Ramsey. Damn. How did he get under her skin so quickly? Reluctantly, she turned Shiloh toward where he stood. Although she found herself wishing her ten-year-old gelding would actually drag his hooves in crossing the arena, it didn’t happen. Libby remained seated as she pulled Shiloh to a stop next to the fence.
“Captain,” she said coolly.
“Libby.”
She squirmed inwardly, yet maintained a grim look on her face. “Why are you here?”
Dan looked up at the late-afternoon sky. It was a cloudless blue, the sunshine pouring across the yellowed hills of Reed. “The truth?”
“Nothing but.” Her heart snagged when he cocked his head and looked up at her with that boyish smile.
“I have spring fever, and I couldn’t stand one more minute in that cramped cubicle of an office of mine.”
“Oh…” She relaxed slightly in the saddle, relieved. He wasn’t pursuing her after all.
Dan hitched one highly polished shoe up on the lowest rail of the fence. “Actually, the rest of the truth is that I came to tell you I’m sorry for upsetting you the other day.” Wryly, he added, “I haven’t slept well since it happened.” He pointed to the area beneath his eyes. “I can’t handle three days in a row of guilt-ridden sleep.”
Libby stared at him, not knowing whether to laugh or take him seriously. “I don’t see any dark circles.” She liked his eyes, the intensity in them—the promise of a man who held many secrets, some of them sad.
“No?”
“No.”
“Hmm, Rose noticed them.” When he saw her frown, he said, “That’s my secretary. She’s quite a gal. I don’t know what I’d do without her.”
“Your apology’s accepted, Captain. Now if you’ll excuse me—”
“Wait.” Dan leaned out, his hand nearly brushing the rein she held.
Libby halted.
“Hell, this isn’t working out the way I wanted,” he grumbled, then glanced up at Libby. “It’s about the other day when you told me you didn’t date marines. After you left, Rose filled me in on what happened to you, Libby. She said you lost your husband in a helicopter accident here on base.” Dan watched her flushed cheeks grow pale. The defiance in her eyes turned dark with undisguised anguish. “I’m sorry. I guess I don’t blame you for not wanting to get involved with another marine, and I understand your reactions to my lunch invitation the other day. I didn’t know.” He held her vulnerable gaze. “I have a tendency toward foot-in-mouth disease. Have you noticed?”
“Oh, I have a good dose of the same disease,” she muttered under her breath. Then, indignantly, she added, “What makes you think I’m the least bit interested in any marine, including you?” The nerve of this man! But when he gave her that rakish smile, all her anger melted.
With a shrug, Dan said, “I don’t, not really.” Did Libby realize how beautiful she was atop her bay gelding? Her shoulders were thrown back with such pride, her chin had a slight tilt of confidence and her back was ramrod straight. No denying it, right or wrong, practical or crazy, the way she sat the horse made him go hot with longing. Her thighs, outlined by the taut fabric of the yellow breeches, were long and firm. Judging from her reaction to him stepping into her life again, it was a damn good thing she couldn’t read his mind. Libby would probably trample him to death with that huge horse of hers if she knew what he was thinking.
“I just felt I should come over and apologize in person,” Dan said humbly, meaning it.
His humility shamed her. Libby relented a little and allowed the reins to fall on Shiloh’s neck. “I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have overreacted. I do that a lot. You can’t help it that you’re a marine.”
“It’s not a disease, you know.”
She grinned and enjoyed looking at him as a man, regardless of the uniform he wore. Jenny was right. Dan Ramsey was wonderfully good-looking in a strong kind of way. He wasn’t pretty-boy handsome. In fact, his face was almost leathery from so much time spent out in the elements.
“Touch;aae. I had that coming,” she said.
“Can we start over?” He saw blood rush to her cheeks, her lashes dropping to stop him from seeing what emotions lay in her emerald eyes.
“Over? You’re making me jumpy again.”
“I can see that.”
Libby picked nervously at a nonexistent thread on the thigh of her breeches. Shiloh, too, was restive, mirroring her feelings.
“What I meant was that I’m new on base, and I think I ought to know more about the terrain of this particular area.” Dan watched her chin rise as her huge green eyes settled on him, filled with an intriguing mixture of distrust and interest. “I’ve given this a lot of thought,” he lied, “and I think I ought to inspect the surrounding areas by horseback. Of course, I’ll need an expert guide. Someone like you, for instance.”
“Why?”
Dan turned and pointed in a northwesterly direction from the stable. “The brig sits right over there. If a prisoner ever escapes, and they have before, there’s a ninety-five-percent chance he’ll come this way, toward the San Luis Rey gate right down the road. It’s the fastest way to get off base and into civilian territory. And there’s less chance he’ll be picked up once he gets off base.”
Impressed, Libby nodded. “You’re right on all counts. Last year a brig prisoner got loose, and the hills around the stable were crawling with brig chasers and helicopters.”
“Did they find him?”
“Sure did.” Libby shrugged. “It was kind of exciting, to tell you the truth. Not much happens around here. Every once in a while a marine will fall off one of the trail horses and have to walk back to the stables, but that’s about it.”
“Do you ride out in these hills much?” Dan asked curiously. Last night he’d pulled out a map of Reed and plotted the escape routes attempted by brig prisoners over the past ten years. All had been recaptured in the area surrounding the San Luis Rey gate, which was only a mile away from the stables. Escapes didn’t happen often, but it was a valid part of Dan’s education to know the prisoners’ likely routes to potential freedom.
At the same time he’d been racking his brain for a way to meet Libby again—on her turf, so she’d be more comfortable. Armed with Rose’s explanation, Dan knew he somehow had to get past her distrust of him as a marine. Maybe, with time, she’d get to see the man, not the uniform he wore. He’d slept poorly after forming his plan, asking himself why it meant so much to him to pursue Libby. He didn’t have an answer.
The sun was setting behind the hills, throwing deep shadows along the area’s rounded, loaflike hills. Libby loved this time of day. “I often ride in those hills, Captain,” she admitted. She smiled and patted her horse’s neck. “This is where I train Shiloh. He’s an eventing horse, and I’ve got to keep him and myself in peak condition for the southern-California circuit.”
Dan wanted to say something about Libby’s peak condition but gave it a rest. She was a no-nonsense woman of the nineties who, he was sure, rightfully disdained chauvinism and double standards.
“You teach riding and show your horse?”
“Yes, but I also train eventing horses over at the Crescent Stables in Fallbrook.”