Count On A Cowboy. Patricia Thayer
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“So the next time will be easier?” she asked as she looked at him from under her cowboy hat. Her big green eyes looked both leery and hopeful at the same time.
“Maybe after a good long soak in a tub.”
Aw, hell, why did he go and say that? Suddenly he conjured up a picture of her naked, covered in bubbles... He glanced away and helped her to the water’s edge. Once Brooke was seated, he went and checked the horses, then pulled a retractable tin cup from his saddlebag.
“Here, use this.”
She took the small cup. “Thank you.” She dipped it into the cool stream to fill it, then took a drink. “Oh, this is so good.”
Her deep moan caused another reaction he didn’t expect. He pushed his hat back. “No need for bottled water around here.”
She scooped up another cupful and his gaze was riveted on watching her long, slender neck as she swallowed thirstily. He fought to keep from reaching out and wiping the water that trickled down her flushed cheek. Once finished, she quickly ran her hand across her mouth and collected any traces of leftover liquid.
“Guess I was thirstier than I thought,” Brooke said as she removed her hat and brushed her hair away from her face, exposing the dusting of freckles across her nose. She turned toward him and looked serious. “Something wrong? Is there dirt on my face?”
“No.” Quickly he crouched down at the creek’s edge, cupped his hands, and concentrated on drinking the cool water. After his fill, he sat down next to her. Maybe not a good idea. He eyed her long legs encased in those slim-fitting jeans. He was far too aware of this woman, and that wasn’t good for either of them. Maybe he shouldn’t work all the time, just find himself a woman to go out with.
Brooke interrupted his thoughts. “You have a pretty impressive backyard, Mr. Landry. Thank you for sharing it with me today.”
“You’re welcome.” Trent readjusted his hat and stared out at the mountain range as a breeze rustled through the trees. He noticed the leaves were beginning to turn autumn colors, his favorite time of year. “I’ve probably explored about every cave and mesa around this property. My dad wanted to make sure his boys knew how to handle themselves.”
“Boys? You have a brother?”
He cursed under his breath for the slip. “Yeah. My younger brother...Chris.” Even though it had been nearly twenty years, a sharp pain sliced through his chest as if the accident had happened yesterday.
“Does he live around here?”
More pain, he swallowed hard. “No, he died a long time ago.”
He couldn’t look at her, but heard her gasp. “Oh, Trent, I’m so sorry.”
He could only nod as the details of that day flooded back. He shook them away and stood. “We should head back.” He went to retrieve their mounts.
Brooke followed him and placed her hand on his arm. “I’m sorry if I brought up some bad memories.”
He saw the sadness on her face. Although he didn’t deserve it, he wanted to take the comfort she offered. “There are no good memories when a young boy dies.”
Not when his older brother didn’t have the time to watch out for him.
* * *
AFTER RETURNING FROM their ride, Trent took care of the horses, then he spoke with Ricky about the chores for the next day before he drove Brooke back to the Bucking Q. After dropping her off at the cabin, he drove next door, relieved that she hadn’t asked him any more questions about Chris.
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