Snow Melts in Spring by Deborah Vogts Page A

participated in a few charity ropings. It’s a good way to raise money for kids who need it.”
    Mattie knelt to examine Dusty’s front hooves, surprised Gil would be involved in charity work. “What else do you do when you’re not playing football? Television commercials? Let’s see, maybe prance around in men’s underwear or sell deodorant?” She glanced up to see if this embarrassed him.
    “I never prance. I own investments and sponsor a foundation.” He slid his hands into his jean pockets, then smiled. “I once did a milk commercial, but I take it you’ve never seen it?”
    Feeling the warmth of her own embarrassment, she turned her attention to the horse. “I don’t watch much television.”
    “And when you do, Sunday Night Football isn’t on your list of priorities, right?”
    “Smart guy.” She rose and went to the other side of the horse to distance herself from this imposing man who made her feel like a Shetland pony next to a Percheron stallion. “What brings you here this morning, anyway?”
    “I brought you some of Mildred’s biscuits. I figured after the cold hamburger last night, you might enjoy a warm snack.”
    Mattie smiled at the gesture. “All I’ve had is strong coffee.” She put a rope around Dusty’s neck, and the thought of the freshly baked biscuits made her stomach growl.
    “If you want, I’ll heat them in your microwave.”
    “That won’t be necessary.” She’d eat the food cold before she’d allow this man to see the dirty dishes on her kitchen counter and clothes lying in a heap on the floor. “Dusty’s swelling has gone down some. The more he moves, the less stiffness he’ll have.”
    “Should I try to walk him while you eat?”
    “Some sunshine on his back would be good.”
    While Gil managed to lead Dusty out of the barn, Mattie washed up, then settled on a bench to watch. She took her first bite, savoring the buttery flavor as well as the morning sunshine.
    “Tell me, Doc. What makes a young woman like you want to stay in a rinky-dink place like this? You’d have more business if you lived in a city.”
    Her eyes trailed Gil and his horse. He sounded like her parents. They were always notifying her about vet positions in Kansas City. Thought she’d make more friends and marry if she lived in the city. “I’ve never had any desire to leave these hills.”
    “You don’t crave big malls or supermarkets? Theatres or nice restaurants? Don’t you get lonely for people your own age?” Gil stopped to rest Dusty, who nosed a clump of fescue but didn’t eat.
    “I have lots of friends. And if I want to shop, all I have to do is hop in my truck and drive forty miles to Emporia.”
    “I grew up here, remember . . . I know the population per square mile, and most of the people are over fifty.”
    Mattie stopped chewing. “By people, I assume you mean single men. What makes you think I wouldn’t be interested in someone older? Like your father, for example.” Her eyebrows rose as she waited for his response.
    The register of shock made her want to laugh. “Did you think your dad and I were an item?” His sheepish expression told her the answer before he opened his mouth.
    “I had my suspicions.”
    “I thought so.” Mattie lowered her head, and a wispy curl fell in her face. She couldn’t deny that she longed for romance. But pursue a man more than twice her age? She didn’t think so. John McCray was like a father to her, not a beau.
    Although he did own a respectable portion of the Flint Hills . . .
    She bit into the flaky biscuit as though biting into a dream. The McCray property was a worthy investment. Established acreage with a house and outbuildings. Though the thought had its advantages, marrying a gentleman for his land was out of the question. “If God wants me to remain single, that’s what I’ll do.”
    Gil squatted and pulled a few slivers of grass from the ground. He placed them against Dusty’s muzzle. “You’d be content with