Page 68 of His Tenth Dance

“I’m okay, Mish,” she said.

“Yeah, you are,” he agreed, which sent frustration through her. He set her on the bench outside of Lady’s stall, where so many people had sat with the horse over the past month. He handed her a water bottle and turned back to deal with Lady.

Kristie wanted to help, but it was a small stall, so she twisted the lid on her water bottle instead. The cool liquid slid down her throat nicely, and she took a deep breath, only a slight sting in her back and tailbone now.

Mission’s low voice rumbled from the stall as he worked with Lady and got her cleaned up and after a few minutes, Kristie felt more like herself. She pushed to her feet and poked her head into the stall.

“Can I help?”

“I’m almost done,” Mission said, and Lady’s coat gleamed from his care. “Thanks for getting the stall ready.”

“Is the straw wet?”

“I piled it over there.” He nodded to a pile near the door. Kristie could scoop it into the bin, and she turned to go get the green bucket to do that. Working together, with the bullet-like rain overhead as a background, when she scooped the last bit of wet straw into the bin, Mission stepped out and closed the lower half of the stall door.

“She’ll be good for the night,” he said. His phone went off, and Mission sucked in a breath, frowned mightily, and pulled his phone from his pocket. “That’s not good.”

“What’s that?” she asked.

“Farm-wide alert—sent by Deacon. It has a special sound.” He tapped and swiped and read. When he lifted his head, his eyes turned wide and he searched hers. “The road is washed out.”

Kristie felt like she was still asleep; her mind couldn’t seem to comprehend those words in that order. “What?”

“Ivory Peaks called—” His words got drowned out by both of their phones as theyscreamedwarning alert noises into the small space.

Kristie’s attention jerked to her own device, and she saw the flash flood warning. All the dots lined up, and she knew—she wouldn’t be leaving the farm that evening.

She silenced her alert, and Mission did too. The resulting silence seemed to deafen her, but Kristie managed to put her phone away. “Sounds like the rain is letting up,” she said.

“Maybe we should use the break to get to my cabin.” He inched closer to her as the pelleting started up again. He didn’t look away from her, and he’d put his cowboy hat somewhere else. “Or maybe we can find something to pass the time while we’re hunkered down here.”

Kristie grinned at him. “I guess I won’t be making my apple crumble tart tonight.”

“I think I have a boxed brownie mix in my pantry.” Mission’s big, warm hand curled around her and came to rest on her lower back.

Horror ran through Kristie. “Mission, you have got to be kidding.”

“Kiss me, kitten,” he whispered, and he leaned in and left a couple of inches for her to close herself. “And I’ll throw the boxed brownie mix out.”

His eyes held nothing but teasing and pure flirtation. Kristie’s chest vibrated with a whole new type of adrenaline—and she wanted to kiss Mission in the medical barn while the rain pelted the roof above, and washed out roads leading off the farm, and soaked the world outside.

But in here…she was safe and dry and with Mission.

So she tipped up an inch or two, which eliminated the distance between them, and pressed her lips to his. He growled somewhere deep inside him and swept his other arm around her.

She pulled away slightly. “Will you make me dinner tonight?”

“So I have to cook for youandthrow out the brownie mix?” He seemed genuinely grumpy about both things.

But Kristie simply smiled and said, “Yep.”

“Deal,” Mission said, and then he pressed her into the wall behind her and kissed her again.

twenty-two

The scent of chicken broth surprised Mission as he opened his bedroom door and headed down the hall. He and Kristie had been in the medical barn for about twenty minutes while the storm lashed rain over the farm. It had still been drizzling as they’d made their way back to his house, and he’d analyzed the food in his fridge and freezer while she showered. Then he’d jumped in to get clean, dry, and warm.

“You’re cooking?” he asked, coming to a complete stop next to the fridge.

---