always interests me. I’m here to try to absorb the lay of the land, to get a feel for its appeal.” His blue gaze steadied on her again with laser accuracy. His eyes had been the first things she’d noticed about him after his ruggedly tall frame. His mouth twisted. “I know I sound like an ass. I apologize. I’ve been distracted with business issues. Thank you for agreeing to take me on such short notice. Jeremy told me it was pure luck that you had the next few days open. And while I appreciate you rolling out the red carpet, the next seventy-two hours are my only chance to see the countryside surrounding Austin before I fly back to Glasgow. I hope I can put you at ease by assuring you that I’m adept on a horse and I’ve done my share of roughing it.” He offered her a lopsided grin, which she much preferred. “And I’ve swallowed a mosquito or two myself.”
Halle sucked down half the contents of her refillable water bottle, watching Alastair as she did so. She wanted to inform him that she wasn’t merely a local bumpkin, that she’d in fact spent her junior year of college in Glasgow. But it wasn’t her job to tell a client off. This was Jeremy and Adeline’s friend, so ending the tour here and now was out of the question. And her overdue utility bills demanded she complete the job and get the paycheck. But while she’d play the gracious hostess as best she could, she didn’t have to take Alastair’s attitude. He was on her turf. This was Texas, and she was born and bred by one of the most outstanding Texans ever to live in these parts. Stinging tears tore at her already wet eyeballs at the reminder of her father. She drew in a shaky breath and steeled her spine.
“Excuse me, Alastair. We grow our bugs a bit bigger in Austin than you do in Glasgow. Same for our countryside—it’s easy to think you know where you are, that you’re on the path you started out on, and that you’re safe. But the hills and desert can turn life threatening in a blink.”
“I’m sure they can.” Spoken like the wealthy man he was. Her internet search last night had yielded that Alastair had surpassed “wealthy” a decade ago. He was indeed one of the richest men in the UK. Halle didn’t give an armadillo’s ass. Rich or destitute, all men put their Wranglers on the same way. Although not all fit as well as Alastair’s jeans.
Another reminder that since her father’s death she’d been too busy to date, to contemplate being in a man’s arms. The thrum that Alastair’s good looks spiked in her core underscored her unwitting sexual fast.
“The best equipment in the world, the finest trail horse, the most proficient riding technique—none of them matter if you get lost in the desert, or stranded by a lame animal. It always boils down to wit and humility.” She didn’t mean to sound so bossy but something about the tall Scottish dude and his burr was making her crazy. He looked at her as if she was irking him, too.
“Got it.” His gaze flickered to his mount. “And your best horses are these two? Won’t we need a third for the camping gear?”
Heat rushed her face. “All of the horses at Bluewood are exceptional. I rotate the workload amongst them, and several are in need of a rest. Buster and Buttercup will serve us well. I’ve packed as lightly as possible, with enough for the two of us for four days and three nights. I always take a little extra in case of an unexpected event. I can guarantee you that we’ll be hungry when we get back at the end of that last day, and we’ll have a hearty meal here.” Her other horses were having annual checkups while they were out. Even though her veterinarian gave her a huge discount, it was going to be another costly bill. She’d had the lousiest luck with the timing of ranch and animal maintenance expenses lately. As if someone or something was trying to tell her that she’d never get Bluewood Ranch up and running at a profit again. She shook off the shudder that raced down her spine. Superstitions were nonsense. Not something she was going to share with this billionaire bronco rider wannabe, though. “You’ll have a great ride with Buster.”
“How do you know these two won’t fall ill?”
“They’re perfectly healthy. My vet checked them over last week.” She patted Buttercup’s side and watched Alastair as he smoothed his large hand over Buster’s spotted neck. The pinto was still a bit of a handful but Alastair had insisted on him over Buttercup. Elvis was behind her in the paddock, where Charlie, her ranch hand, had put him as she’d spoken to Alastair. While she would have loved to take Elvis today, he’d just finished up two daylong trail rides in a row. And Buttercup was in need of exercise.
“You’re anxious to let off some steam, aren’t you?” Alastair’s brogue was low and sexy as he spoke to Buster. Something shifted in Halle’s defenses. A man who cared about a horse he’d only just met couldn’t be all bad.
He’s a client. Nothing more. It was sad that she had to talk her hormones down from the ledge that would have her jumping on Alastair in an Austin minute.
Client. He’s a client. It could be her new mantra.
“How long have you known Jeremy, Alastair?”
“Long enough to trust his business judgment. He says Austin is the new Silicon Valley—the place for tech.”
“Yes, but you’re smart to check out the rest of Austin.” The real Austin, as far as she was concerned. Away from the congested city and ever-expanding suburbs.
“Am I?” His patronizing expression galled her. Again she wanted so badly to set him straight, tell him that she knew a hell of a lot more about the socio-economic status of a city in which she’d held down a high-level corporate job, but she shoved it down. With what she earned this trail ride, she might be able to pay off the remaining bills for the cedar rail fencing and the latest round of vet expenses.
“Well, then, let’s get moving.”
“After you.” He took his cowboy hat off and used it to emphasize the sweep of his arm toward the start of the trail. A trail etched on Halle’s heart long ago, worn smooth by rides with her father. She looked at the sky to confirm what she already knew—the weather wasn’t on their side today.
“Thank you, Alastair. Normally I’d spend a little more time going over our itinerary with you before we set off, but with the cold front coming in I think it’s best we get a move on. We want to pitch our camp ahead of the rain.” She waved toward the thin silver line visible across the mostly flat parcels of land. Before they made camp the clouds would grow, the wind increase. Winter was coming in its usual, no-nonsense Texas manner.
“A gal after my own heart—I wouldn’t mind making camp sooner, either, as I have some work to do. On my phone, of course.”
“I can guarantee you there won’t be any Wi-Fi where we’re headed, and cellular signal strength isn’t dependable.”
“Ah, ye of little faith, Ms. Ford. I have magic in my pocket that will take care of that.”
“Halle. Call me Halle.” She choked on her words as she really, really wanted to add a playful comment about what exactly the sexy Scotsman had in his pocket but didn’t want to risk that he’d think she was coming on to him. Or that her tourist business offered anything more than a foray into Texas Hill Country. She almost laughed out loud at the thought of her company becoming an escort service.
The morning sun cast long shadows of their figures upon the rolling hills outside the corral. Since Alastair said he knew how to ride, she’d given in to allowing him to ride Buster, her tallest horse by far at seventeen hands. She hated to admit it but his tall, lanky frame fit Buster’s muscular structure perfectly. Alastair Buchanan looked like every woman’s dream of a sexy, chiseled cowboy.
Not her dream, of course. She didn’t care whether her client was attractive
