Count On A Cowboy. Patricia Thayer

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Count On A Cowboy - Patricia Thayer Mills & Boon American Romance

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posts I got in town the other day.”

      The kid’s smile didn’t waver as he tipped his hat. “It was nice to meet you, Brooke. Maybe I’ll see you later.”

      She waved as he walked off. “Nice to meet you, too, Rick.”

      Trent sighed. “That boy flirts with every girl that gets within fifty feet of him. It surprises me he has time to work.”

      “He’s just being friendly.”

      “I don’t want Rick to make you feel uncomfortable.”

      She shook her head. “I work in a casino. I know when someone is flirting with me. Besides, I think he’s charming.”

      Charming. He hadn’t hired Rick to be charming. “You want to come up to the house, or would you like to look around?”

      “Do you have horses?”

      He nodded. “A few. Come on, I’ll introduce you.” He surprised himself when he grabbed her hand. Although he felt some resistance, she went with him into the barn.

      Inside it was cooler, a little darker and smelled of hay and horse manure. Waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dim light, he looked around at the ten stalls. The new wood he’d used to rebuild most of them stood out, but as soon as he painted the rails no one could see the repairs.

      He continued to hold her small hand and walked her over to the first stall and the seasoned mare, Cassie. He reached over the railing and the buckskin came to him immediately.

      “Hey, girl.” He rubbed her muzzle. “How you doing today?” She bobbed her head and blew out a warm breath. “I brought someone to meet you.”

      He glanced at Brooke to see her standing back, looking a little anxious. “Hey, this old girl is as gentle as they come. She would never hurt you. Castle Rock, better known as Cassie, this is Brooke.” He reached for Brooke’s hand and he had her stand on the bottom rung, then instructed her how to pet the horse.

      “Oh, she’s so soft,” she said when her fingers came in contact with the horse’s neck.

      “She’s just been bathed.”

      Cassie nuzzled her nose against Trent’s arm as if to agree. He laughed. “She’s pretty special to me.”

      Brooke’s gaze met his. “Looks like she thinks you’re pretty special, too.”

      He couldn’t look away from the woman. “Yeah, we’ve been together a long time. My dad got her for me the first summer I came to visit him after my parents divorced. She was only a yearling then.” Why was he telling her all this? He patted the horse’s neck. “We’re both getting up there.”

      “It’s nice you still have her.”

      He nodded, unable to speak as good and bad memories flooded back. How he’d ride miles on Cassie, trying to outrun the memories of the brother he’d lost. He swallowed. “Yeah, she’s been a good friend. Come on, I’ll introduce you to the others.”

      They walked to the next stall and a large chestnut stallion came to the gate. “This is my mount, Red Baron.” He took hold of the halter and held the horse’s head steady. “He’s a lot more spirited than Cassie.”

      “And you ride him?” she asked, keeping her distance.

      Trying to avoid the horse’s bobbing head, he admitted, “When he lets me. This guy keeps me on my toes.” He rubbed the anxious stallion. “I need to take him out and give him a good run. Later I’ll pasture him so he can run off some of his orneriness. I’d geld him, but first I want to get a few foals sired by him.” He took her hand and walked down the aisle to the last stall and the small black mare with a white blaze on her face. “This is Raven. She’s new to the Lucky Bar L. I’ve only had her a few months, and when she comes in season, I’ll breed her with Red.”

      “So you’re in the horse-breeding business.”

      “As a rancher, you need horses to run cattle. It’s still the best way to round up the cows.”

      “This has to be a lot different than being in charge of soldiers.”

      He arched an eyebrow. “Actually sometimes the steers take commands better.”

      He saw her smile and his gut tightened. Whoa. This was not the time for him to take notice of a woman. Not this woman, anyway.

      * * *

      TWENTY MINUTES LATER, in the nineteen-fifties-style kitchen, Brooke sat across the table from Trent eating a ham sandwich and drinking iced tea. She couldn’t stop looking around in amazement.

      Although the cabinets where old, they were painted a high glossy white and the tiled counters were a tan with a burgundy trim. A soft yellow covered the walls. The appliances were original, too, but fit in with the decor. This was how she always thought a family kitchen should look.

      “I know this room needs to be redone, but right now, it’s on the bottom of my list.”

      “Oh, no. This kitchen is amazing as it is. I was just admiring the great condition of everything.”

      “You can thank my dad. He was the original recycler, and believed in taking care of things he had. He worked hard at ranching and hated to waste anything.” Trent took a bite of his sandwich. “Since there were so many other repairs on my list, I could only paint the walls and cabinets for now.”

      “And you did an excellent job.” She smiled. “With running a ranch and now, the cabins to build, you must be pretty busy.”

      “Well, since Aldrich took off with the money, it seems the cabins are on hold until we decide what to do.”

      And here she was adding to Rory and Trent’s problems. “Then I show up.”

      He paused, his gaze locked on hers. “You have nothing to do with our troubles.”

      “No, but I’m adding more, especially for Laurel. Probably the last thing she needs right now is to learn about her...mother.”

      Trent took a drink of tea. “Honestly, I don’t know how she’ll react to the news. But you drove all this way to meet Laurel, so sticking around a few days is better than going home without trying to connect, isn’t it?”

      She wasn’t sure about that. “Yeah, but look at all the time I’m taking from you. You’re stuck babysitting me until the Quinns get home.”

      He leaned back in the chair, and she couldn’t help noticing his muscular chest and those massive shoulders. Did the military do that for him, or the ranch work?

      He caught her stare and she quickly glanced away.

      “Hey, I’ll take your kind of trouble any day. You rescued me yesterday by helping me pack up all that wedding stuff. You took charge yesterday like a drill sergeant.”

      She felt a blush cover her cheeks. “What can I say? I have a knack for getting things done.”

      Those dark eyes captured her attention for

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