suspiciously before he lipped it from her palm delicately and bit down. Clearly surprised, his head had tossed a little, but it seemed he liked it.
Russ and Will were at work on her house. It was a little unsettling to have them there, so close. She’d been entirely too aware of them moving around outside, banging and scraping, invading that bubble of space she’d built around herself, but Russ had been a distant presence and Will a respectful one.
Each morning when she walked to the paddock she expected Josh to come join her, but he hadn’t and that had been all right, too. At the same time it wasn’t.
With a sigh, she accepted that she didn’t know how she felt about that. About him. She knew she liked him, enjoyed his company.
But she was frightened. He frightened her. The yearning she felt when she saw him terrified her. It drew her, too. She pushed all that back into her mental box, along with the memories they aroused, and shut it.
Looking back over her shoulder, she could see the first coat of paint on the walls of the house. It was already so changed, brighter than the dull worn paint and yet softer than the cold gray it had been. The primary color was a pale moss, so it almost blended into the fields and the grass. It still looked unfinished but you could see the good bones of the house start to come out.
It looked less haunted, less like the tattered ghost of a home.
She turned back to the horse.
He tossed his head, charged across the paddock as if to chide her for her inattention.
Laughing, she moved across the grass, climbed up on the fence rail. The horse paced toward her almost eagerly, and then he paused. His ears twitched.
She didn’t have to turn her head, she knew who it was who stood there.
Josh.
She could almost sense his presence behind her, as if he radiated some kind of special magnetic field.
From the corner of her vision she could see him there behind and to one side of her with his hands in his pockets, wearing work clothes, the thin t-shirts he favored against the promised heat of the day, and a pair of jeans.
She smiled as her heart lifted and twisted at the same time.
He looked very good, the t-shirt revealing rather than concealing the strong muscles of his arms and chest, his lean, taut abs, the jeans a little loose on his hips. The look suited him.
The horse hesitated, looking from one to the other of them.
She looked back at it, steadily, as Josh came closer.
Beth kept her eyes on the horse, intensely aware of Josh’s presence at her back. He didn’t crowd her, but she knew he was there.
The horse snorted, tossed its head, eyed them and then the promised treat held out on her outstretched palm.
Her throat was tight, her pulse pounded. Beth almost willed the horse to take what she offered.
After a moment it took a step, another and stretched its neck a little to take the sheaf of the fresh, green grass from her palm.
It eyed Josh warily as it chewed.
Josh could smell her over the scent of horse and hay.
The breeze carried the faint scent of her shampoo, or the soap she used, something. Josh breathed it in, a sudden, shocking rush of need flashing through him as hard and fast as a summer storm. Even so, he somehow retained enough self-control and awareness to keep his concentration on the horse as well as the girl.
It glanced at him sideways in much the same way she did, both of them from the corners of their eyes. Both were nervous. The horse’s hide twitched, and he snorted. Beth was wound as tightly as an old watch. He didn’t know why any more than he knew why the horse was so afraid. There was more to the story of both of them than he knew.
The horse moved forward a step, then two.
Beth was as intensely aware of Josh as she was of the horse. She knew how important this was, that Josh had been giving them time, but this was his horse.
Her heart rate picked up at his closeness. A kind of panic hit her. She fought it with near desperation.
With an effort,
Russ and Will were at work on her house. It was a little unsettling to have them there, so close. She’d been entirely too aware of them moving around outside, banging and scraping, invading that bubble of space she’d built around herself, but Russ had been a distant presence and Will a respectful one.
Each morning when she walked to the paddock she expected Josh to come join her, but he hadn’t and that had been all right, too. At the same time it wasn’t.
With a sigh, she accepted that she didn’t know how she felt about that. About him. She knew she liked him, enjoyed his company.
But she was frightened. He frightened her. The yearning she felt when she saw him terrified her. It drew her, too. She pushed all that back into her mental box, along with the memories they aroused, and shut it.
Looking back over her shoulder, she could see the first coat of paint on the walls of the house. It was already so changed, brighter than the dull worn paint and yet softer than the cold gray it had been. The primary color was a pale moss, so it almost blended into the fields and the grass. It still looked unfinished but you could see the good bones of the house start to come out.
It looked less haunted, less like the tattered ghost of a home.
She turned back to the horse.
He tossed his head, charged across the paddock as if to chide her for her inattention.
Laughing, she moved across the grass, climbed up on the fence rail. The horse paced toward her almost eagerly, and then he paused. His ears twitched.
She didn’t have to turn her head, she knew who it was who stood there.
Josh.
She could almost sense his presence behind her, as if he radiated some kind of special magnetic field.
From the corner of her vision she could see him there behind and to one side of her with his hands in his pockets, wearing work clothes, the thin t-shirts he favored against the promised heat of the day, and a pair of jeans.
She smiled as her heart lifted and twisted at the same time.
He looked very good, the t-shirt revealing rather than concealing the strong muscles of his arms and chest, his lean, taut abs, the jeans a little loose on his hips. The look suited him.
The horse hesitated, looking from one to the other of them.
She looked back at it, steadily, as Josh came closer.
Beth kept her eyes on the horse, intensely aware of Josh’s presence at her back. He didn’t crowd her, but she knew he was there.
The horse snorted, tossed its head, eyed them and then the promised treat held out on her outstretched palm.
Her throat was tight, her pulse pounded. Beth almost willed the horse to take what she offered.
After a moment it took a step, another and stretched its neck a little to take the sheaf of the fresh, green grass from her palm.
It eyed Josh warily as it chewed.
Josh could smell her over the scent of horse and hay.
The breeze carried the faint scent of her shampoo, or the soap she used, something. Josh breathed it in, a sudden, shocking rush of need flashing through him as hard and fast as a summer storm. Even so, he somehow retained enough self-control and awareness to keep his concentration on the horse as well as the girl.
It glanced at him sideways in much the same way she did, both of them from the corners of their eyes. Both were nervous. The horse’s hide twitched, and he snorted. Beth was wound as tightly as an old watch. He didn’t know why any more than he knew why the horse was so afraid. There was more to the story of both of them than he knew.
The horse moved forward a step, then two.
Beth was as intensely aware of Josh as she was of the horse. She knew how important this was, that Josh had been giving them time, but this was his horse.
Her heart rate picked up at his closeness. A kind of panic hit her. She fought it with near desperation.
With an effort,
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