“I’m doing it, Mister Blake!” she called out.
“You sure are!” he shouted back. “Good job, sweetie!”
Something caught the corner of his eye. He looked over and saw Hope, her camera raised, clicking away.
She lowered the camera and caught his eye. Something passed between them; something wordless and honest and accepting. It was an apology from Hope, a willingness to bend demonstrated by her returning to the ring to take some shots of Cate.
Blake dipped his head in a subtle nod—a tacit thank-you and his own apology—and the tension and bitterness that had snapped between them earlier melted away.
Instead something else hummed in the air between them—something warm and exciting. He now understood why he’d felt as he had earlier—powerless. He wasn’t in high school anymore but it was the same jumped-up feeling he’d gotten when he’d liked a girl...when he’d been attracted to someone...and when he’d considered that someone out of his league. Back then the girls had always looked away when he’d met their eyes.
The difference now was that despite her angry words Hope wasn’t looking away. She was looking directly at him. No flinching. And as the seconds spun out he started thinking about her long blond hair, and the blue of her eyes that was clear as a glacier stream, and her long thoroughbred legs. He loved that she was so tall. So... He swallowed. Accessible. At six foot five, he usually towered over women—and a number of men, too.
“Good girl, Queenie!”
He snapped out of the moment at Cate’s cheerful words as horse, rider and entourage passed by. He heard the clicking of Hope’s camera as the group passed close to where she was standing.
Blake shoved his hands in his pockets. He was a smart man. He knew well enough what was going on. Curiosity. Awareness. Back and forth arguing that set off sparks in both of them.
And strategic retreat—him to the barn and her behind the lens of her camera.
But it was there all the same. The big question was, would he be smart and do nothing?
Or stupid and see what would happen?
He kept his gaze on horse and rider. He wasn’t—and never had been—a stupid man.
* * *
Hope blinked furiously against the stinging in her eyes and focused on what she saw within the frame of her camera. She took picture after picture of the little girl sitting atop the aging pony. That was what Blake had asked of her and that was what she was going to do.
Even if it hurt. Even if parts of her heart that she’d thought closed off years before were coming slowly, painfully to life at the sight of the gruff rancher smiling at a poppet of a girl on a horse.
She hadn’t known he could be this way.
But she’d keep the camera focused on the little girl and pony, even though she was tempted to turn around and take pictures of Blake. The way he rested his weight on one hip. The soulful expression in his eyes as he gave her that tiny no-fuss nod. The way his eyes lit up and his smile broke over his face like a prairie dawn when he spoke to the child on the pony.
She was far too aware of Blake, so she resolutely kept her eye on the team of people in the center of the ring and not on Blake on the sidelines.
When the session ended Blake moved forward and took the reins. He led the horse and rider to the edge of the ring and the concrete floor. Hope stayed to the side, still snapping, as one woman retrieved the forearm crutches and Blake reached up and lifted the girl from the saddle. He put her down carefully and helped her with the crutches.
Hope swallowed tightly. The girl wore small brown boots, and with the black riding helmet looked like the perfect tiny equestrian. The way she was looking up at Blake was pure hero-worship. And why not? He was a big, strong man who treated her with gentleness and kindness. He was good with kids. No, more than good. He was a natural, and it made her long for something she had stopped hoping for years ago. For someone—for him—to turn that gentleness on her. To make her feel as special, as treasured, as the little girl on the pony.
The center of someone’s world.
“There you go. Time to put Queenie away.”
“Mom says there’s no more lessons until after Christmas.”
Blake tipped back his hat and squatted down in front of her. “That’s right. Everyone gets a bit of a vacation over the holidays.”
“But I don’t want a vacation,” Cate said, her lower lip pouting just a bit.
Hope hid a smile, but didn’t turn away from the scene.
Blake smiled at Cate. “Well, you’re in luck. Because next week instead of riding we’re doing something else.”
“We are?”
He nodded. “Yep. Next week we’re having a Christmas party.”
“With cookies?”
“Of course.”
“And hot chocolate?”
“Naturally.”
Cate used her crutches to step closer, and Hope couldn’t hold back the smile now, even as the sight of her sent a pang through Hope’s heart. The girl was playing Blake like a violin. Whatever she asked for Blake would probably agree just because she’d asked it.
“And Queenie?”
His smile fell. “Nope, not Queenie.” He waited a beat and then added, “But better. We’re going on a sleigh ride.”
“A sleigh ride?” The excitement was back. “With bells on the horses?”
He slapped a hand to his forehead. “I plumb forgot about bells.”
“You can’t have a sleigh ride without bells.”
Hope heard how excitement put a slight lag on the girl’s speech. How could anyone remain immune to such an enchanting creature?
Hope stepped forward, her heart pounding with uncertainty. “If there are bells to be had, Blake’ll find them.” She smiled tentatively.
The dark eyes were turned up at her now. “He will?”
It was such an honest, heartfelt question that Hope didn’t stand a chance either. Hard as she might try to keep her distance while she was here, there was something about this little girl that reminded her of herself at that age. She blinked as she realized it was her name—Hope. Cate had it in spades. And Hope missed having that trusting innocence.
“Has Blake ever let you down before?”
Cate shook her head.
“Well, there you go, then.”
The girl turned back to Blake with more questions and Hope straightened. She turned to the pair of women looking on and smiling.
“Hi,” she said, holding out her hand. “I’m Hope McKinnon. I’m doing some photography for promotional materials. I wondered if it would be okay to use today’s shots? I’ll have an official release drawn up, but for now your okay would be great.”
“I’m Shirley, and of course you can. I’m a physiotherapist from Canmore, and I volunteer to work with a lot of Blake’s more physically challenged clients.”
“Then you must be the mom of this angel,” Hope said, shaking the other woman’s hand. “She’s got Blake wrapped around her little finger, hasn’t she?”
“Oh, and the other way around, too. I’m Robbi, and I’m happy to let you use any photos you like of today,