Oh, come on, Mariah. Inviting him to stay here on the ranch had nothing to do with Harry. You want him around because looking at him is a constant thrill. Hearing his voice shivers over your senses like sweet, slow music. And touching him made your whole body ache for more.
Disgusted with the mocking voice in her head, Mariah left the kitchen and hurried toward the block of bedrooms located at the back of the house. As she collected clean linen for Finn’s bed, she assured herself that she wasn’t about to be charmed by the Nevada horseman. She had more important and pressing issues in her life to deal with. Like finding out whether Finn actually was Harry’s father.
* * *
Later that evening, Finn stood in the middle of the ranch yard, surveying the barns and surrounding landscape. From what he could see from his limited view, the ranch was a beautiful property. Run-down in places, but still very usable.
Not far to the east of the barns and corrals, forest-covered mountains formed a towering green wall. To the west, the land swept away to an open valley floor dotted with a mixture of hardwoods and evergreens. Some twenty to thirty miles beyond the valley, tall blue mountains etched a ragged horizon against the sky. Stallion Canyon was a much greener land than that of the Horn, and the beauty of it made Finn long to straddle a horse and explore the foothills and meandering streams.
He wondered if Mariah ever had the urge to ride over the ranch, or had the financial difficulties she’d been under robbed all pleasures she’d taken from the place?
Damn it, he wished he could quit thinking about the woman. Quit wondering why she’d invited him to stay here on Stallion Canyon. Especially when his presence only seemed to upset her.
You didn’t have to accept her invitation, Finn. You could have told her a quick “no thank you.” Instead, you couldn’t accept fast enough. So you could be near Harry, you told yourself. Bull. Admit it, you want to be near Mariah, too.
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