Page 26 of Texas Honor

“He won’t have time. Have you forgotten that I have to go home in two more days?”

The older woman looked worried. “Yes, I know. I had hoped you might stay a little longer.”

“You’re feeling better,” she returned. “And he doesn’t want me here. Not anymore. I’m not even sure I’d stay if I was asked.” She opened the door. “I’m going to look at the horses.”

She walked out without another word, crestfallen and miserable. She stuck her hands in the pockets of her jacket and walked aimlessly along the fence until she came in sight of the barn.

There he was, sitting astride a huge chestnut-colored horse, his working clothes making him look even bigger than usual, his Stetson cocked over one eye. Watching her.

She stopped in her tracks, glaring at him. He urged the horse into a slow trot and reined in beside her, resting his crossed hands on the pommel. The leather creaked as he shifted in the saddle and pushed back his hat.

“Are we still speaking?” he asked, his tone half amused.

“Can someone run me to the bus station in the morning?” she asked, ignoring the question. “My vacation is up the day after tomorrow. I have to get back to Atlanta.”

He stared at her for a long moment before he spoke. “How are you going to explain that decision to Lillian?” he asked, carefully choosing his words. “You’re supposed to think I’m dying, aren’t you? You’re supposed to be helping me write my memoirs.”

“I don’t think my stomach is strong enough,” she replied.

His green eyes glittered at her. “Stop that. I’m trying to make friends with you.”

“I tried to make friends with a gerbil once,” she commented. “I stuck my hand down into its cage to let it have a nice sniff, and it tried to eat my little finger.”

“You’re making this difficult,” he grumbled, tilting his hat back over his eyes.

“No, you are,” she corrected. “I’m doing my best to relieve you of my gold-digging, sermonizing presence.”

He sighed heavily, searching her eyes. “I’ve never had to justify myself to anyone,” he told her. “I’ve never wanted to.” He studied the pommel as if he hadn’t seen one before, examining it as he spoke. “I don’t want you to go, Mari.”

Her heart ran away. “Why not?”

He shrugged and smiled faintly. “Maybe I’ve gotten used to you.” He looked up. “Besides, your aunt will never get over it if you leave right now. All her plans for us will be ruined.”

“That’s a foregone conclusion as far as I’m concerned,” she said, her voice curt. She clenched her hands in her pockets. “I wouldn’t have you on a stick, roasted.”

He had to work to keep from grinning. “Wouldn’t you?”

“I’m going home,” she repeated.

He tilted his hat back again. “You don’t have a job.”

“I do so. I work at a garage!”

“Not anymore.” He did grin this time. “I called them last week and told them that you had to quit to take care of your sick aunt and her ‘dying’ employer.”

“You what!”

“It seemed like the thing to do at the time,” he said conversationally. “They said they were real sorry, and it sure was lucky they’d just had a girl apply for a job that morning. I’ll bet they hired her that very day.”

She could hardly breathe through her fury. She felt as if her lungs were on fire. “You...you...!” She searched for some names she’d heard at the garage and began slinging them at him.

“Now, shame on you,” he scolded, bending unexpectedly to drag her up to sit in the saddle in front of him. “Sit still!” he said roughly, controlling the excited horse with one hand on the reins while the other was on Mari.

“I hate you,” she snapped.

He got the gelding under control and wheeled it, careful not to jerk the reins and unseat them both. The high-strung animal took gentle handling. “Care to prove that?” he asked.

She didn’t ask what he meant. There was no time. She was too busy trying to hold on to the pommel. She hadn’t realized how far off the ground that saddle was until she was sitting in it. Behind her, she felt the warm strength of his powerful body, and if she hadn’t been so nervous, she might have felt the tense set of it in the saddle.

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