was a peaceful beauty to the ranch that Mercedes had always loved. Even when the ranch yard bustled with life, it was a poetry of sights and sounds. The hammer of the farrier, the bawl of a calf, the nicker of a horse, the sun coming up and the moon going down.
From generation to generation and year after year, her family had worked and carved this ranch from prickly pear patches and endless stretches of mesquite trees. As for Mercedes, she’d been born here in her parents’ bedroom.
Yes, she’d been rooted here. But eight long years ago, she’d pulled up those roots and run as fast and hard as she could. Now she wondered if she’d made a mistake by coming back, trying to make this her home once again, trying to pretend that she could fall back into the life she’d led before her college life and John’s big deception, before her stint at Peterson AFB and the humiliating mistake she carried from there.
Trying to shake away the nagging questions, she walked on to the barn and climbed up on a board fence that corralled a small herd of yearling horses. From a lofty seat on the top rail, she watched the colts and fillies play in the cool morning air until she heard a footfall behind her.
Glancing over her shoulder, she was more than surprised to see the man of her disturbing dream propping his shoulder against the board fence. He was dressed in a dark blue denim shirt with pearl snaps, the standard fare that cowboys had worn for decades. Funny how the shirt looked tailored just for him. Some men tried to play the part, while others were naturals. She realized that Gabe was one of those naturals, the epitome of all things Western right down to the square toes of his brown cowboy boots.
“You’re up very early,” he remarked.
“So are you. Today is Saturday,” she pointed out. “Don’t tell me that you start your workday this early on a Saturday.”
Even though he had no way of knowing that she’d dreamed about him, the fact that he’d shouldered his way into her subconscious thoughts was enough to put a sting of embarrassment on her cheeks.
He jerked his head toward the pen full of horses. “They don’t know it’s a weekend.”
He was right. Nothing stopped on the ranch. At the least, livestock had to be fed and cared for every day of the week.
She drew in a long breath and let it out as she guided her gaze back to the pen of horses. “Are all of these broken to the halter?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“What are you doing with them now?”
“Getting them used to blankets and saddles on their backs. When they get closer to two, I’ll put someone lightweight like you on them. Ever ride a green horse?”
Even though he was standing on the ground and a good foot away from her, his presence was a huge thing, crowding toward her, making her completely aware of her femininity.
She answered, “I’ve ridden a few outlaws before. But as for green horses, only once. Daddy forbade us to climb on anything that wasn’t completely broken to ride, but I didn’t always do what I was told.”
“Imagine that.”
Even though she didn’t glance at him, she could hear a smile in his voice, and the sound warmed her, drew her to him.
“Yeah. I got bucked off and broke my arm. I missed the whole softball season at school that year. I learned about green horses the hard way.”
Apparently she’d always been an outdoors person, Gabe thought. The notion surprised him, although it shouldn’t have. She’d been in the military, after all. She’d had to go through rigorous physical preparation to graduate basic training. Still, she seemed so womanly, so soft, that he couldn’t imagine her in camouflaged fatigues or wearing a pair of spurs and chaps.
“Don’t feel badly, we’ve all been dumped,” he told her.
She remained quiet and after a few moments, Gabe glanced up to see her wiping her hands down her thighs as she rose from her seat on the fence. She was wearing a blue and white patterned shirt with short sleeves. A white scarf was twisted and tied around her thick hair. Once she was standing on the ground, he could see her face was void of makeup, yet it held as much color and beauty as the sun breaking over the treetops.
Smiling faintly, she said, “I’d better get back to the house. I haven’t had any coffee yet, or breakfast.”
“I can’t do anything about the breakfast, but I’ve just made a pot of fresh coffee. Would you care to join me for a cup?”
She glanced questioningly around her. “Here?”
He jerked his head toward the barn. “I’ve got an office inside the barn.”
Surprise arched her brows. “I thought Cordero’s office was over by the cattle barn.”
“It’s still there. But I like it here—keeps me closer to the foaling mares. And your mother kindly supplied me with a few things to make it comfortable.”
She gestured toward the building situated several yards behind him. “I’d like to see this new office of yours,” she agreed. “And I’d especially like the coffee.”
Built when the Sandbur had first become a full-fledged ranch in 1900, the barn was one of the few original structures that had weathered more than a century of the extreme climate of South Texas. Because the building was made of heavy lumber, it stayed cooler in the summer and warmer in the winter than some of the newer barns that were built from corrugated iron. It had always been one of Mercedes’s favorite spots on the ranch.
As the two of them stepped inside the cavernous building, Gabe took Mercedes by the arm and guided her down a long, wide alleyway to a closed door. Gabe opened it and gestured for her to enter.
The moment she stepped into the room, she was immediately impressed with the large teacher’s desk and office chair, the computer, fax and copier, telephone, refrigerator and small cooking element. “Why, this used to be a tack room,” she said with amazement. “How did you make such a transformation?”
“Me and some of the hands partitioned off part of the feed room and moved all the riding equipment in there.” He gestured for her to take a seat on the long couch running against one wood-paneled wall. “Sit down. You might recognize that couch. It came from the den in the big house. Your mother said she needed a new one anyway. I think she was just being generous. During foaling season, I need a place to stretch out from time to time.”
While she made herself comfortable on the couch, Gabe poured coffee into two foam cups.
“Cream or sugar? Or both?” he asked.
“Cream. Just a splash. But I can do it.”
She started to rise from her seat, but he motioned her back down. “I can manage.”
Back at the couch, Gabe handed her the steaming coffee and then took a seat on the cushion next to her. Other than Geraldine Saddler, no woman had set foot in his private domain until now. It seemed strange and even more distracting for Mercedes to be sitting only inches away from him.
“Mmm. Thank you,” she murmured as she lifted the steaming drink to her lips.
As he sipped from his own
