to stop for a drink, and he says yes or no. A man asks a woman the same question and what does he get?— ‘Oh, I don’t know, isn’t it too late? What do you think?’” He’d raised his pitch to mimic a feminine voice and Nikki almost laughed.
“That’s not true,” she said. “And it’s sexist.”
He finger-combed back his dark hair, and frowned as if giving the matter serious thought. “You’re probably right about it being sexist, but I swear to God it’s true.”
“Really? Ask me again about going to Kalispell and see what I have to say.”
Trace grinned and caught her hand. “I wish we were at the Sundance. Then I’d know all the horses’ names.”
She slowly looked to her left. They were standing in front of the first stall, but she didn’t remember walking this far in.
The horse looked at her with its ears pricked forward.
Nikki moved closer to Trace. “Is it male or female?”
“She’s a mare. You might hear someone refer to her as a roan. That’s for the color. The paint over there might be referred to as a pinto.”
“I won’t touch her,” Nikki said, watching the mare’s nose strain over the stall door. “Any of them.”
“I wouldn’t let you. I don’t know these horses. We’re just having a look.” He slid his arm around her shoulders and she leaned into him as they kept walking.
Despite the fact that he’d been working in the sun and sweating, he smelled nice. Very masculine. Very different. Whatever combination made up his scent it was a turn-on. She almost forgot they were surrounded by horses. For a second she considered sliding her arm around his waist but didn’t. It would be crazy to let this turn into something else. This was perfect. She had an excuse for the clammy palms and racing heart. No need for Trace to know he was partly responsible. The fiery tingle low in her belly was all him.
He rubbed her arm. “Maybe some day when you’re at the Sundance helping Rachel and Jamie I’ll take you to our stable.”
“You’re never there when I am.” She bit her lip, wishing she hadn’t admitted she’d noticed his absence.
“I figured you were trying to avoid me.”
“I only go over to cover for Rachel when she’s busy with Matt or if Jamie calls.”
“Ah. I won’t take it personally then.”
She didn’t have to look to know he was grinning. She much preferred keeping her eye on the stalls as they walked by. A horse at the back made an angry sound. “Gee, don’t tell me...that’s Diablo.”
“He’s still getting used to being penned in.”
“Maybe we should turn around.”
“You’ve trusted me this far. Give me five minutes. You can stand as far back as you want.”
“The next county?” She sighed. “Five minutes.” Neither of them wore a watch. So what? She’d know when it was time to make a run for it.
They got to the last stall, and Trace took his arm from around her shoulders. She moved back as he stood at the stall and stroked the horse’s neck.
“Mustangs have a reputation for being harder to tame and train than other breeds. They’re innately suspicious of humans.”
“So he was wild when Matt bought him?”
“Someone else had him for a short while, but they couldn’t handle him.”
It had taken Trace about three hours. She’d watched him from her window, awed by his patience, never speaking above a whisper. The horse had responded fairly quickly all things considered.
“See this black hair rimming his ear? We call them black points.” Trace stayed focused on the stallion, murmuring things she couldn’t hear. She was beginning to think he’d forgotten about her when he said, “I have a proposition for you, Nikki.”
“What’s that?” she asked, suspicious when his gaze remained on the horse.
“Let me teach you to ride.”
“Diablo?”
“No.” The corners of his mouth quirked, but he kept the smile in check. “I have a Sundance mare in mind.”
She didn’t care if it was a pony. “Why? What’s
“That’s not true,” she said. “And it’s sexist.”
He finger-combed back his dark hair, and frowned as if giving the matter serious thought. “You’re probably right about it being sexist, but I swear to God it’s true.”
“Really? Ask me again about going to Kalispell and see what I have to say.”
Trace grinned and caught her hand. “I wish we were at the Sundance. Then I’d know all the horses’ names.”
She slowly looked to her left. They were standing in front of the first stall, but she didn’t remember walking this far in.
The horse looked at her with its ears pricked forward.
Nikki moved closer to Trace. “Is it male or female?”
“She’s a mare. You might hear someone refer to her as a roan. That’s for the color. The paint over there might be referred to as a pinto.”
“I won’t touch her,” Nikki said, watching the mare’s nose strain over the stall door. “Any of them.”
“I wouldn’t let you. I don’t know these horses. We’re just having a look.” He slid his arm around her shoulders and she leaned into him as they kept walking.
Despite the fact that he’d been working in the sun and sweating, he smelled nice. Very masculine. Very different. Whatever combination made up his scent it was a turn-on. She almost forgot they were surrounded by horses. For a second she considered sliding her arm around his waist but didn’t. It would be crazy to let this turn into something else. This was perfect. She had an excuse for the clammy palms and racing heart. No need for Trace to know he was partly responsible. The fiery tingle low in her belly was all him.
He rubbed her arm. “Maybe some day when you’re at the Sundance helping Rachel and Jamie I’ll take you to our stable.”
“You’re never there when I am.” She bit her lip, wishing she hadn’t admitted she’d noticed his absence.
“I figured you were trying to avoid me.”
“I only go over to cover for Rachel when she’s busy with Matt or if Jamie calls.”
“Ah. I won’t take it personally then.”
She didn’t have to look to know he was grinning. She much preferred keeping her eye on the stalls as they walked by. A horse at the back made an angry sound. “Gee, don’t tell me...that’s Diablo.”
“He’s still getting used to being penned in.”
“Maybe we should turn around.”
“You’ve trusted me this far. Give me five minutes. You can stand as far back as you want.”
“The next county?” She sighed. “Five minutes.” Neither of them wore a watch. So what? She’d know when it was time to make a run for it.
They got to the last stall, and Trace took his arm from around her shoulders. She moved back as he stood at the stall and stroked the horse’s neck.
“Mustangs have a reputation for being harder to tame and train than other breeds. They’re innately suspicious of humans.”
“So he was wild when Matt bought him?”
“Someone else had him for a short while, but they couldn’t handle him.”
It had taken Trace about three hours. She’d watched him from her window, awed by his patience, never speaking above a whisper. The horse had responded fairly quickly all things considered.
“See this black hair rimming his ear? We call them black points.” Trace stayed focused on the stallion, murmuring things she couldn’t hear. She was beginning to think he’d forgotten about her when he said, “I have a proposition for you, Nikki.”
“What’s that?” she asked, suspicious when his gaze remained on the horse.
“Let me teach you to ride.”
“Diablo?”
“No.” The corners of his mouth quirked, but he kept the smile in check. “I have a Sundance mare in mind.”
She didn’t care if it was a pony. “Why? What’s
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