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lapping impatiently at their powerful legs. Halle took it all in, but not before checking out Alastair’s profile. Satisfaction unfurled in her rib cage, knowing he was moved by the scenery. In this fleeting moment she knew she’d done her job. The strong breeze, the white rapids where the water raced around the bend, the quieter area farther downstream that would be too deep to cross—all played their part to showcase the spectrum of the river’s strength. “We’re going to have to cross here, where it’s still shallow enough. See that part, where it looks like it’s not moving?” She waited for him to nod. “That’s most likely a deep ditch from the current. We want to steer clear of it. The horses know what to do but we need to stay steady and confident as we guide them.”
“Yes, ma’am.” His smile was almost a smirk, but not quite. Part of her wished he’d fall off his damned high perch, but a bigger part wouldn’t ever want to put Buster at risk of rolling over or breaking a leg.
She answered his grin with her own. “Ready?”
“By your side, yes.”
Damn it, he took her breath away. She couldn’t blame it on the Scottish accent any longer. She had a major crush on her sexy billionaire cowboy. It was going to remain a secret crush.
“Let’s do it. And please put your phone away, Alastair. You don’t want to become another tourist who loses their device because of a lack of judgment.”
“Okay, you’re the river crossing expert but I’m the tech expert. My phone is in a LifeProof case and will survive any submersion in water. It also floats. And it’s quite secure in the saddle, where it’ll stay while we get our horses across safely.” He pointed at the phone nestled in the holder he’d brought with him. The contraption fit perfectly around his saddle horn, and while she admired its convenience she preferred to keep her phone in her wraparound thigh pocket when riding. Her mobile was for emergencies only out here on the trail.
Alastair didn’t move.
“Good to hear. We don’t need any distractions. Paying attention is key.” She wasn’t in the mood to fish him out of the river if he went in.
“I’ve got this, Halle. Trust me.” He patted Buster’s neck as he spoke, his focus clearly on his mount and not the phone he’d tucked back into its holder.
“Whatever. I warned you.” She urged Buttercup into the river and waited for Alastair to do the same with Buster. Just as he promised, Alastair took Buster into the river without hesitation. He stayed with her, following every suggestion to maneuver Buster as she gave them. Until a loud ding sounded over the gushing water. To her horror, Alastair looked at the phone. Her gut twisted, cutting off her air.
“Pay attention. Your horse needs you.” Her voice sounded weak over the roar of the river and the gusty wind that blew her hair from its ponytail.
“I just need a minute, Halle.” Alastair’s face was grim, his mouth pulled down. He’d pulled the phone out and scrolled through some message or other. After he finished whatever he was reading he shot her a huge grin and placed the phone back in its makeshift saddle holder. “Just teasing you, Halle. I wouldn’t be so stupid as to risk Bust—whoa!”
Buster’s manners, decent until now, fled as a large, fallen tree that had been swept into the river came into view not more than one hundred yards away. It appeared to be aimed straight at them. The large horse bucked and bolted across the river, as if reaching the other shore in record time meant life or death.
Alastair, unfortunately, didn’t make it to the bank with Buster. As soon as Buster bolted, Alastair flew through the air and landed with a large splash in the middle of the river. When he disappeared under the water Halle panicked. If he hit his head and was unconscious, he’d drown in minutes. She slid off Buttercup and slapped her rump. “Go, girl!”
She waded to where she’d watched Alastair’s body submerge. There was no sign of him. She stood on solid ground, able to withstand the force of the river but unable to see one flash of his clothing. Nothing but the froth of the water from the sudden uptick in current. And then his head popped up, his arms working around him in the water. Did he think he could outswim a swollen Texas river?
“Alastair!” He turned toward her and grinned. They were moments from a cold death and he was grinning like a fool. Or someone whose brain was operating in a fog. Panic rose as she realized he might already be hypothermic.
Her boots filled with water and her soles slipped on the rocky river bottom as she reached for Alastair, her fingers desperate to reach his shirt or jeans and haul him up. Instead the current knocked her against him, her entire body plastered against his in the freezing water.
Blue eyes with no evidence of the danger they were in sparkled at her. “Now th-th-this is what I c-c-call a T-Texas adventure!”
“Look at me, Alastair. Can you walk?”
“Of course.” Alastair stood up. Dripping wet, he started to shiver. Violently. “D-d-don’t b-b-be m-m-mad at m-m-me.” In spite of his body’s immediate reaction to the frigid water, his eyes were alight with genuine contrition. If she weren’t so afraid for his life, she’d find the situation comic.
“We need to get to the other side. Now!” At which point she was going to strip the wet clothes off of him, wrap him in a first aid space blanket, start a warm campfire and then kill him for his ignorance.
“D-d-don’t w-w-worry.” He leaned heavily against her and she braced her boots in the silty bottom of the river. They made their way, one step at a time. As they neared the bank where Buster and Buttercup patiently waited, the river stilled. “L-l-look, it-t-t’s all b-b-better.”
“Shut up, Alastair.”
* * *
Halle Ford had saved his life. Alastair prided himself on his inner strength, the core of his being that had gotten him through the bullying he’d endured as a grade schooler. His entire school career, actually, until he’d grown taller and his shoulders wider than those of his mean classmates. The same financial status that had blessed him with such a protected life in many ways had been his enemy then, as jealous classmates went after him with a vengeance. He’d never told his parents; he’d used his brains to outwit his adversaries and taken the punches he’d had to.
Until the school psychologist had called him in and insisted he confess to the beatings, the terrorizing episodes of being dragged out of bed in the wee hours and hung by his ankles outside of his dormitory window. His enemies had been expelled and he’d faced another uphill battle, working with the counselor to undo the years of abuse and anxiety.
He’d thought he’d survive anything after that. Scaled mountains, in fact. Yet a river in Texas had almost done him in. Without Halle, he’d never have waded out of that cold water.
“You’re okay, Alastair.” She placed her hand on his shoulder for a brief moment as she rubbed his legs. The pins and needles sensation hurt like hell, but somewhere in the icy sludge of his brain he recognized she was preventing hypothermia.
“Th-th-thanks.” The word barely made it out around his chattering teeth.
“Don’t talk. Save your energy to heat back up.” Her massage continued, and he knew that when he felt himself again he’d regret that he’d been naked under the space blanket and unable to act on the fantasies he’d had of Halle for the past couple of days.
“Here are some dry socks.” She expertly unrolled heavy hiking socks onto his feet. Wool had never felt so good against his skin. Almost as good as her warm hands, hands that had moved on to his thighs.
“I’m aiming at your larger muscle groups to get your circulation going and warm you up quicker.” Her eyes were warm chocolate as she met his gaze. The smile in them reached her lips and she winked. “Don’t worry, Alastair. You’re not the first person to underestimate that river, and you won’t be the last. We’ll have you feeling yourself in no time.”
He wondered if she knew that when he was feeling himself again it could