LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

image entered her mind, it turned into butterflies in her stomach. He was tall, broad-shouldered. Short brown hair, dark eyes she assumed were also brown, deep tan. And a dimple in his chin. She had to admit a certain weakness for dimples, thanks to the old Cary Grant movies she used to watch with her mother on the days her mother hadn’t been able to get out of bed. Butterfly-makers, for sure. And here she was, primping in front of the car’s rear-view mirror, getting herself ready to go. If she had a list of her top ten most frightening things to do, riding a horse would take a solid place at number five, right after climbing a mountain, jumping out of an airplane, going to the moon and getting involved with the wrong man again.

      Thinking about Alex Hastings made her shiver. Wrong man, bad marriage, regrettable decision. More than anything, a huge waste of precious time. One year in, one year out, and almost every day of it filled with regrets for the time she couldn’t get back. But she’d been alone, scared, confused, and he’d been the easy port in her storm. Water under the bridge now. Regrets, yes. Huge ones, not really. Fond memories, not one.

      OK, so she’d lived a sheltered life, and done dumb things because of it. She’d admit it, embrace it and, hopefully, learn from it. That was, quintessentially, her…Edie Parker, always behind, taking bad detours, slow to arrive at her life. Well, she’d finally traversed the biggest bumps and arrived. Now, no more detours. She needed to advance herself. Take graduate courses, move along even further in her career. Avoid the bumps at all cost. Or, most of them, since this little horseback excursion promised an afternoon filled with literal ones. But she was looking forward to the time with Molly. Even with Rafe. So that was the price. But the horse?

      She had nothing against horses in general. In fact, she loved animals…all animals. Horses, though, only from a distance. And this seemed a good distance, sitting at the end of the driveway of Gracie House, looking well past it to the paddock full of horses, trying to convince herself she’d survive the afternoon reasonably intact.

      “You accepted the invitation, so do it,” she said, sucking in a nervous breath through her teeth as she turned into the drive. She drove at a pace slower than an elderly snail, all the way up to the house. Horses…Rafe Corbett…all at once? This was precisely the time when she should have been asking herself what she had done because, honestly, she didn’t know.

      * * *

      “What the hell is she doing?” Rafe asked under his breath, watching Edie coming up the driveway, her car creeping slower than he thought a car could go.

      “Looks to me like she’s avoiding something,” Johnny Redmond commented.

      Well, Rafe knew that feeling. Aversions and avoidances. He was the master of them. Practiced them to perfection. Could write a book on all the various techniques. “Look, will you bring Donder around for me?”

      “You up to that?” the stable manager asked. “He’s got a lot of spirit in him, especially now that Grace hasn’t taken him out for a while. Your aunt liked it, didn’t want it broken down.”

      Rafe smiled. Donder wasn’t the only one with spirit around here. Even if the spirit stepping out of the car right now was fairly tentative, it was there, as big and bold as Donder’s. But with a heart equally as big. “No, I’m probably not up to it,” he told Johnny. “But I want to give it a try anyway. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. My aunt subscribed to that philosophy.” But Rafe wasn’t sure if he meant Donder or Edie.

      “Good thing you fix broken bones,” Johnny said, on his way to Donder’s stall.

      But Rafe barely heard the words, he was so focused on Edie’s approach. She was stunning. “I’m not convinced you really want to ride,” he called out to her long before she was near the stable, startled by how excited he was to see her again yet not willing to admit to himself that he’d thought about her more than a time or two that afternoon.

      “That makes two of us,” she called back. An old-fashioned wicker picnic basket swung from her left arm, while she clasped a red plaid blanket to her chest with her right. “I wasn’t sure what kind of food you were bringing, so I threw together a few things…fried chicken, fruit salad, freshly baked croissants, chocolate-chip cookies…”

      “My aunt’s chocolate-chip cookie recipe?” he asked, hopefully.

      “My own. I had a lot of time to cook, growing up. Chocolate-chip cookies were one of my favorites to make.”

      Well, she had mighty big shoes to fill in the chocolate-chip cookie department, he thought. “So, you fixed all that food this afternoon?” How could anyone look so downright girl-next-door and sexy at the same time? Even the way her ponytail swished back and forth captivated him.

      “I took a few hours off work this afternoon…time left over from the last holiday I didn’t take. Haven’t really done much cooking for a while, and it was fun.”

      “Better than the peanut-butter sandwiches I was going to go slap together.” Everything about her took his breath away—her blue jeans and white cotton tank top, her white athletic shoes. Simple, nice and natural. Not like the sophisticated, polished women who moved in his social circles in the city. Yet seeing Edie, he did have to admit there was a little emotion trying to creep into a place where he hadn’t felt any in longer than he cared to recollect. Was it…excitement? Could he actually be a little eager over the anticipation of spending some time with her?

      No, that couldn’t be it. He didn’t get excited. So it had to be a mild case of relief as Edie was here to stand in as the buffer between Molly and him. Relief. Yes, that made perfect sense. Still, seeing Edie with her hamper full of food, looking the way she did…

      OK, maybe his pulse had sped up a beat or two. But, hell, he liked home-made fried chicken. Hadn’t had it ages. That alone was worth a couple of extra beats. And the cookies…“Anyway, how about we find you a ride? Any kind of horse you’re particularly drawn to? We’ve probably got just the one you want.”

      “Or I could walk,” she ventured.

      Molly stepped into the conversation at that point, went straight to Edie’s side and leaned into her the way an affectionate cat leaned into a person’s leg. “You could ride Ice Cream, Edie.”

      “Ice Cream?” both Edie and Rafe asked together.

      “Aunt Grace let me name her. She was really sick when she came here to stay, and she wouldn’t eat anything. But I brought her a bowl of ice cream…vanilla. And she loved it. Aunt Grace said that’s what made her better again, so I thought it was a good name. And when I’m big enough to ride on my own, Aunt Grace is going to let me keep Ice Cream as my very own horse because she’s so gentle.”

      “I think it’s a perfect name for her,” Edie said, slipping her arm around Molly’s shoulder. “And I’d be honored to ride Ice Cream.”

      It was a natural gesture, Rafe noted. Not forced. Not even thought about. From where he stood, it looked like they could have, maybe should have, been mother and daughter. For a moment, he wondered if that could happen. “I think I saw her smile a little when you said her name.”

      “Because she still likes ice cream, silly,” Molly said, giggling.

      It was such a relief, seeing her act like a little girl her age should act. Rafe knew it had a lot to do with Edie, also with doing something normal from her life before all this tragedy. Unfortunately, it had nothing to do with him, for which he felt a little guilty because he felt…well, he wasn’t exactly sure what it was. Left out, maybe? But that was what he really wanted, wasn’t it? Not to be part of Molly’s permanent situation, not to let her get too attached to him. So, in a way, he was getting exactly what he wanted, yet it didn’t feel as right as it should have. In fact, it felt pretty darned bad, and he hadn’t expected that. “Well, I think Molly has picked you the perfect horse, Edie. Care to saddle up and give her a try?”

      “Me, saddle up? Sure, I’ll give it a try, but first you’ve got to tell me which end of the saddle would face the front end of the horse?”

      He chuckled.

Скачать книгу