Accidental Hero. Loralee Lillibridge
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“Since you’re here, you might as well get out of the heat.” Trying to be cordial while talking to the back of his head challenged her genuine inclination to be polite. And Bo wasn’t helping matters by refusing to look her way. He kept his face turned and his darn hat pulled so low, she wondered how he could even see anything but the underside of the brim.
“No thanks, I’ll just wait here,” he said. “Don’t know what Shorty wanted to see Buck about. He told me somebody had some horses to take care of, but guess he made a mistake. Doesn’t look like you need help around here. Not with those worn-out nags in your pasture. You’d be further ahead to sell them instead of paying out good money for feed.”
“That’s all you know, Ramsey.” Abby bristled at his condemning observation of her wonderful four-legged friends. “Those horses are a vital part of a very important riding program. Don’t criticize before you understand what you’re talking about.”
“A riding program?” He turned to her, and she realized she’d piqued his interest enough to make him forget his scars, at least for the moment. Then it dawned on her—a sneaking suspicion of why Shorty had brought him here. If anyone knew horses, it was Bo, but that didn’t mean she wanted him here. She wasn’t sure she was strong enough to face the possibility of having him around on a day-to-day basis and not be tempted to hash over old memories. Did she even want to?
Looking at him, she could understand his reluctance to expose himself to public scrutiny, yet the scars didn’t keep her legs from going goofy or her pulse from singing karaoke at the sound of his voice. His crooked leg and awkward gait didn’t detract from his seductive Texas charm. No, there was nothing scary about Bo except the fact that he still had the power to hurt her. Deep in her heart, she acknowledged that secret and vowed to keep those longings and desires to herself. After all, he was a married man.
Still, his experience around horses would be a tremendous help and relieve Pop of some of his workload. To do or not to do? Was it worth the chance? Pop could sure use the extra pair of hands.
“Have you ever heard of using horses to help children with physical and emotional problems, Bo?” Her question slid out on the deep end of a sigh as she grabbed the door handle. “Come over to the porch where it’s cooler, and I’ll tell you about it.”
Without waiting for him to object, or for the chance to change her own mind, Abby opened the door, squinting against the noon brightness. “It’s too hot to stand out here in the sun. I won’t offer you a beer, but I’ve got cold, sweet tea already made.”
She started to help him out of the truck, then thought better of it, remembering how he’d shot out of the café parking lot on Saturday. She stepped aside to give his male pride a wide berth. Holding her breath might not help, but she did it anyway.
He reached for the sunglasses in his shirt pocket and settled them on his nose.
“You’re right, it is too hot to sit out here,” he said, surprising her with his swift agreement. “And I haven’t had honest-to-God sweet tea in a helluva long time.”
He eased out one leg, then the other, until he was standing outside the truck. After a moment’s hesitation when he hung onto the door for balance, he followed her to the shaded porch.
The shuffle of his uneven stride as he dragged his leg along the walk made her slow her own pace. But when his labored breathing sent a warm puff of air to tickle the back of her neck, it was all she could do to keep from breaking into a run.
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