her nerves. She’d come prepared, knowing that Holt’s animals would be a part of this. If she could make friends with this creature quickly, then when Holt finally showed up, he might think she was a natural cow woman, like her better, and he and she might bond over equine details. She had gone online just last night to find some interesting facts. She now knew that there were more than three hundred and fifty breeds of horses and ponies and she knew that horses could walk, trot, gallop and canter.
But none of that mattered right now. Holt’s horse was looking at her as if she had horns and a red forked tail. Reaching for what she hoped would be her secret weapon, Kathryn dug into her purse and pulled a carrot from a plastic bag.
“Here, boy.” She held out the carrot clutched between her thumb and forefinger. “Look what I have.”
The horse lurched toward her a bit, and she jerked back, then stuck her hand out again.
“Don’t. Do. That.” The deep voice was unmistakable. It came from the barn behind her. “Stop moving. Right now.”
Kathryn froze. Holt walked up behind her, and she felt very exposed even though she was fully dressed. Seriously, the man exuded something masculine. He got attention.
But, of course, she was supposed to be the one snagging his attention, not the other way around.
“He doesn’t like carrots?” she asked.
“He loves carrots.”
“I—I see. Or, actually, I don’t.” She forgot to freeze and waved her hand around as she spoke. The horse followed with his head. He moved closer. Quickly.
Kathryn jumped.
Just then Holt stepped forward, gave a command to the horse and reached out and took her hand, forcing her to drop the carrot in the dirt. She looked at it with dismay.
“Why did you do that?”
“Because I assume you’d like to keep all your fingers. Horses have sharp teeth and massive heads. Daedalus is gentle, but he doesn’t know you or understand what you’re doing. He wants what you have, but the way you’re bobbing around, he’ll have to lunge for it, and his teeth might nip you. Or that big head of his might knock you on your rear.” Holt shook his head as if he’d had to explain to a child not to cross the street without looking.
“I—” Kathryn felt herself blushing. “Thank you. I didn’t realize. I didn’t think, I guess.”
“But you lived here in horse country.” His words were clipped. He looked as if he thought she was lying.
“I only lived here two years, and we didn’t have horses. My father came here following a job and he … well, he liked his privacy. He didn’t like me making friends, so I didn’t have any reason to learn about ranch life.”
“And yet here you are trying to feed my animal.”
She raised her chin. “Just because I didn’t have horses doesn’t mean I don’t want to know more about them. He’s a spectacular horse. And this is a … it’s a lovely ranch.”
“I like it.” He stared her down.
“I’d—I’d really like to know more about ranching.”
“Just out of the blue like that? Planning to move to a ranch, are you?” He looked mildly amused. As if he was trying to keep from laughing.
Oh, no. Did he think she was flirting with him, pursuing him?
“No. I’m looking for a job in a city, but odds are my baby will be born here, and I want to be able to tell her a bit about her birthplace.” As she said the words, Kathryn realized it was true. She did want her child to know something of her history. Because that kind of anchor had been missing from her own life. Her parents had moved constantly. They’d never discussed their lives before she’d been born. They’d never talked much at all without arguing or criticizing their only child for being a disappointment. Her ex-husband had continued the trend. Control by ignoring or criticizing her. Or making her feel that she was being unreasonable or demanding. It had been an effective system. Kathryn had always fallen into line. This time had to be different. She couldn’t let Holt’s opinion daunt her.
“So you want a history lesson and a tour. And you decided this when? This morning?”
She took a deep breath. “I—no—yes—no. I made that up about thirty seconds ago,” she admitted, in part because Holt made her far too self-aware, but also because she just didn’t want to get in the habit of lying. Good mothers didn’t lie. And, oh, she really wanted to be a good mother.
Holt shook his head again. “If you want a history lesson or information on how a ranch runs, I’ll point you in the direction of some books.”
“I want more than that.”
That had probably been the wrong thing to say. There was always the chance that he knew how big a crush she’d had on him when she was young. She hoped not, but the dark, fierce look in his eyes … the heat that rose within her …
Kathryn took a step backward. She caught her foot on something, a rock or … Suddenly she was slipping.
Just as suddenly, she wasn’t. Holt’s big hands were on her arms. He was pulling her upward, toward him. Her heart was thundering, her breath was erratic. And then she was free, standing on her own. Trying to act as if she was perfectly fine.
“I’m perfectly fine,” she said.
A look of something that might have been amusement flitted across his face and then was gone. “Good. I was going to ask that in a minute.” Even though he’d had no reason to ask. She hadn’t even gotten near to hitting the ground. His quick reflexes and strong arms had seen to that. But his tone—was the darn man teasing her?
“I—I assumed as much,” she said lamely, flustered, not happy that she was letting Holt get to her. But hadn’t she always? Had she ever seriously thought they could be a couple when she was a starstruck teenager? She must have been insane. He was the worst kind of man for someone like her. Too intimidating, entirely too physical. His very presence made her feel as if her brain had gone missing. And her plan to butter him up, to humor him? The one that had seemed so right his morning?
It wasn’t going to happen. He wasn’t a man who craved adoration. If he had been, he would have scooped her up in high school and had all the adoration he could handle. She sighed.
“What?”
She forced herself to look straight into his eyes and not flinch. “I came here intending to schmooze you.”
“I see. And how exactly were you going to do that?”
She looked at Daedalus. “Nice horse,” she said weakly. “Nice hat.”
He almost looked as if he wanted to smile.
Kathryn sighed again. “I’m afraid I’m not very good at schmoozing,” she admitted. “I feel totally silly.”
“Well, I’ve been told that I don’t know how to accept a compliment, so …”
Yeah,
