The Rough and Ready Rancher. Kathie DeNosky
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“I wanna be a bull rider when I grow up,” Ryan said, jumping to his feet, his face animated.
Snapped back to reality, Flint smiled and caught his son in midhop to swing Ryan up onto his knee. “Last week you wanted to be a Jedi knight. The week before that you were going to play a guitar and change your name to Garth.”
“I can still do all that stuff, too. But I wanna be a bull rider and go to all the rodeos.”
“I’ll clean the kitchen while the men finish eating,” Jenna said suddenly, rising to her feet.
Flint shook his head. “No. We’ll—”
“Are any of you willing to volunteer for Purge Patrol?” she asked the men gathered around the picnic table. Gazes darted off to the distant horizon and boots shuffled, but the men remained silent. She turned to walk toward the house. “I rest my case.”
What kind of game was she playing now? Flint stared after her. If she thought being helpful would pardon the way she’d tricked him with that contract, she was in for a big surprise.
He gave himself a mental pat on the back for a lesson well learned. Now that he knew how she operated, there wasn’t any kind of scheme she could think up that he couldn’t deal with.
Jenna stepped out onto the front porch to watch the golden glory of the setting sun fade into indigo darkness. Like a comfortable quilt, a wondrous tranquility began to settle across the land, and pinpoints of light dotted the vast heavens above. The chirp of crickets soon introduced a chorus, and bass-throated bullfrogs down by the creek joined in. Somewhere in the distance, spotlighted by a full moon, the mournful solo of a lone coyote completed the lullaby, transforming the evening into a hymn of praise by nature’s wild creatures.
Despite the warm temperature, Jenna wrapped her arms around herself to ward off a chill. This time of night always reminded her of her solitude.
It wasn’t supposed to have turned out this way, she thought sadly. Life should be shared.
“Nice night, isn’t it?”
Startled, she spun around to find Flint leaning against one of the support posts in a shadowed corner of the porch. “I didn’t know anyone was out here.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
Embarrassed that he’d witnessed her pensive mood, she dropped her arms to her sides and turned back to watch the last glimmer of light slip below the horizon.
Several minutes stretched between them before Flint spoke again. “The smell has cleared out of the kitchen. Thanks.”
Jenna shrugged. “The skunk didn’t bless us with a full dose, and what he did spray missed the porous surfaces. Nothing the tomato juice and ammonia couldn’t take care of.”
“That’s all it took?”
She smiled. “A large amount of elbow grease and a can of air freshener helped.”
“How did you know what to do?”
“Just something I picked up along the way.” She walked over to the swing and sat down. “When you’ve traveled as much as I have, you learn things without remembering how or when.”
“I’ve been meaning to ask you about that,” he said, his voice containing a hint of suspicion. “Usually the horse goes to the trainer, not the other way around.”
Jenna started the swing into motion. Let him think what he wanted. But instead of ignoring him as she intended, she found herself trying to explain. “I find a horse is more relaxed in a familiar environment, and it’s much easier to gain his trust. Once I’ve done that, I can teach him just about anything.”
Flint pushed away from the post and walked over to sit on the porch rail in front of her. “So, you’ve been traveling around like this a long time?”
“All my life.”
“Wildcatter’s daughter?”
She shook her head. “Daddy followed the rodeo circuit.” She stared out into the darkness. “Home has always been a camper on the back of a pickup truck.”
A frown creased Flint’s brow. “Now, hold it. You had to have stayed somewhere long enough to get your education.”
“Momma taught us for a while.” Jenna swallowed hard. She didn’t want to remember certain events of her childhood. It was too painful. “Later, Cooper and I kept up with our studies by correspondence until we’d earned the equivalent of our high school diplomas.”
The night suddenly closed in and, disturbed by unpleasant memories, she rose from the swing. “I’d better get some sleep. I’d like to start Satin’s training first thing in the morning.”
“Is there anything special you’ll need?”
“No. He’s already wearing a halter, so I assume he’s trained to lead?”
Flint nodded.
She opened the screen door, but turned back, only to collide with his broad chest. His large, callused hands caught her shoulders to steady her, and Jenna’s stomach did a wobbly cartwheel at the sight of his handsome features so close to her own. He stared down at her for several long moments. She watched his firm lips part, heard his harsh intake of breath. When he gathered her more fully against him, her pulse pounded in her ears at the intense desire in the depths of his slumberous, brown eyes, and the scent of his clean, masculine skin.
She brought her hands up to push herself free. But the feel of his rock-hard chest made her knees go weak, and she found herself clinging to his solid strength for support. How could a man she didn’t even know cause her to go into total meltdown? More important, why was she allowing it to happen?
Somewhere in the back of Jenna’s mind an inner voice cautioned that she was flirting with disaster. But when Flint’s lips came down on hers to brand her with his kiss, the warning faded into oblivion.
His hands roamed from her shoulders to tangle in her thick hair, and every cell in her body tingled to life. His thumbs slid along the column of her throat, and a molten surge of need gathered at the core of her. She tried to press her thighs together against the sweet pain of mounting desire, but the heat of Flint’s muscular leg, lodged between hers, had the intense sensations threatening to consume her. She tightened her legs around his in an effort to ease the burn and heard a groan rumble deep in his chest. Cupping her behind he pressed her higher along the rough denim covering his thigh.
The slamming of a door somewhere inside the house jolted Jenna back to reality, and she pushed against him. “Please—”
Releasing her, she watched Flint jam his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and walk over to lean against the newel post. His back to her, he took a deep breath. “Was there anything else you needed, Jenna?”
His sudden withdrawal and dispassionate tone helped to douse the last traces of her desire. “No.”
Bewildered by her body’s betrayal, and furious with herself, she allowed anger to take charge. She tried to wipe away the feel of his kiss with the back of her