At last, Drake smiled, and the impact of that smile was palpable. He was still leaning toward her, still holding out his hand. “Starburst’s knees won’t buckle under the weight of a backpack,” he told her. “Or yours, either.”
The logic was sound, if not particularly comforting.
Drake slipped his booted foot out from the stirrup to make room for hers. “Come on. I’ll haul you up behind me.”
She handed up the backpack, sighed heavily. “Okay,” she said. Then, gamely, she took Drake’s hand. His grip was strong, and he swung her up behind him with no apparent effort.
It was easy to imagine this man working with horses, delivering breach calves and digging postholes for fences.
Settled on the animal’s broad back, Luce had no choice but to put her arms around Drake’s cowboy-lean waist and grip him like the jaws of life.
The rain was coming down harder, and conversation was impossible.
Gradually, Luce relaxed enough to loosen her hold on Drake’s middle.
A little, anyway.
Now that she was fairly sure she wasn’t facing certain death, Luce allowed herself to enjoy the ride. Intrepid hiker though she was, the thought of trudging back in the driving rain made her wince.
She hadn’t missed the irony of the situation, either. She wanted to study wild horses, but she was a rank greenhorn with a slew of sweaty-palmed phobias. Drake had surely noticed, skilled as he was, and he would have been well within his rights to comment.
He didn’t, though.
When they finally reached the ranch house, he was considerate enough not to grin when she slid clumsily off the horse and almost landed on her rear in a giant puddle. No, he simply tugged at the brim of his hat, suppressing a smile, and rode away without looking back.
WHEN DRAKE CAME in for supper that night, he was half-starved, chilled to the bone and feeling as though he’d worked like an old cow pony and still achieved next to nothing.
He’d seen the mare he’d bought for a small fortune and personally trained, out there on the range that day, but he sure hadn’t won her back. Which only added insult to injury. That whistle had always brought her right to the pasture fence at a full run for an apple or a carrot and a nose rub. It had almost worked today, but not quite, not with that young stallion keeping watch.
Drake hadn’t found the latest missing calf, either. He’d repaired one of the gates on the north pasture—and discovered he had exactly the same problem with the one just east of it. Then he had to call the vet to come out because he had a cow dropping a calf and she was in obvious trouble...
Every single minute of the day had brought new problems.
Add to that the young graduate student who, for some reason he couldn’t understand, was now living in the same house. His house. He’d deposited her near the porch when they got back, and he’d ridden away. Surely that was polite enough. Especially since he wasn’t interested in being part of her “study.”
He remembered to take off his boots in the nick of time, leaving them on the porch. Harry would lynch him if he mucked up her floors, after delivering a loud lecture of the how-many-times-do-I-have-to-tell-you variety. In his sock feet, he hung up his coat and headed for his room. A long shower and a hot meal would solve some of his problems.
But not all of them.
He met Luce Hale as soon as he’d rounded the corner and stepped into the hallway. Actually, he practically body-slammed the woman and would have sent her sprawling if he hadn’t been so quick to grab her by the shoulders.
Getting another look at her, he realized she was a hell of a lot prettier than he’d thought at first, now that she’d shed her rain gear. In fact, she was very pretty, with her long chestnut hair and incredible tawny eyes, and that tall, toned and athletic body of hers. Seeing her in the formfitting jeans and pink shirt she’d changed into, he could believe she’d done plenty of hiking.
He, on the other hand, probably looked as if he’d been hog-tied and dragged through a mudhole. He might’ve had to do some hiking himself earlier, come to think of it, when a bolt of lightning spooked his horse while he was checking out a broken gate. On foot, he’d managed to catch hold of the reins just before Starburst lit out for the barn and left him behind—no matter how loudly he whistled.
“S-sorry,” she stammered as she hastily stepped back. “This place is the size of a hotel—I keep getting turned around.”
This part of the house did involve quite a few hallways and bedrooms. The plantation-style setup was hardly a cozy bungalow. The size of the place meant it was easy for Drake and both his brothers—and now Slater’s wife, Grace, plus her stepson—to continue living there without colliding at every turn. Each brother had his separate space.
Slater was out of town half the time, anyway, filming on location. Mace sometimes slept at the winery in his comfortable office, and Drake was out all day. So while they lived in the same house, they often didn’t see one another except at dinner. The situation was a little different now, since Slater and Grace had a baby on the way, but Grace and his mother got along well and spent a lot of time together.
“Dining room is that way.” He pointed.
Luce, evidently, was in no hurry to get to the table, and her project was very much on her mind. “Do you normally get home this time of day? Will you be going back out?”
Oh, great. So it begins. The “study” of his movements and the inquisition that would undoubtedly follow.
“Yes.”
She nodded, obviously making a note of his answer.
Drake had an urge to sigh, but didn’t. This was not what he needed right now.
Or ever.
He was going to have a word with his mother about this situation and her failure to discuss it with him.
Still, he made an effort to be civil, if not cordial, grumpy mood notwithstanding. “I sometimes eat with the ranch hands—they have their own kitchen, off the bunkhouse—and I have to go out and see to the livestock after supper, close the gate to the main drive, check the stables.” That was enough information for one evening, as far as he was concerned. Under normal circumstances, he didn’t say that many words in a whole day. “Please excuse me, I really need a shower. Sorry. I didn’t do your formerly clean shirt any favors when I, ah, ran into you.”
It didn’t help when Ms. Hale grinned as she surveyed his disheveled appearance. “Can’t disagree with that.”
“It’s been a long day and it’s far from over,” he said as he walked away. Drake wasn’t usually self-conscious, but he was aware that he wasn’t at his charming best, either. If he ever was charming.
Slater could be charming. Mace was smooth, when he wanted to be. But Drake was no talker, smooth or otherwise. He tended to be distracted and was always either busy or tired, or both.
Meeting a beautiful woman in the hall while covered in dirt didn’t exactly boost his confidence.
And judging by Luce’s teasing smile, she thought the situation was funny.
Well, that was just great. On top of everything else, he was stuck with a city girl who planned on following him around day and night, asking dumb questions and making notes.
The uncivilized cowboy in his natural habitat.
He flat out wasn’t interested. Not in the role of lab rat. The woman, unfortunately, was another