His Holiday Bride. Jillian Hart
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so he and Justin cancelled their trip to Casper.”
“Your dad’s a pretty good weatherman.”
“A good rancher has to be. You get to learn the way the air and winds feel before a big storm. Dad is especially good at it.” Her teeth should have been chattering from the cold, but the brunt of the wind didn’t hit her because Ford rode at her right side and blocked it. Had he done that on purpose? She listened to another peal of thunder. Sounded as if it was moving farther to the southeast. Good news. “So, are you going to fess up?”
“About what?”
“About where you learned to ride and shoot like that.” He wasn’t as good as her dad, but he was close, and not many men could say that. She didn’t want to respect him, but she couldn’t help it. “Aren’t you going to tell me?”
“I could, but it would make a better story over dinner. Maybe Friday next week?” Although she couldn’t see more than a hint of his silhouette, she knew he was smiling. She just knew it.
“Will you ever stop?” She was not about to fall victim to his charm.
“Not until you say yes.” The thing is, he didn’t sound charming in that flattering way insincere men did. Without her prior assumptions about him, he came across as an honest, solid guy. He lowered his voice a note and drew his horse closer. “Here’s a warning. I can be persistent.”
“Then I would be smart to keep you at arm’s length, wouldn’t I?” Tempting not to. Very tempting.
“Then that’s a no go for Friday? I could make it Saturday night if that’s better for you.”
“Awfully confident, aren’t you, city boy?”
“I can sense you weakening.”
Strange, because she could sense it, too. Without her eyes to deceive her, she saw more of him in the dark than she’d witnessed in broad daylight. He rode bareback like a pro. He hadn’t once commented on how unladylike it was to pack a Winchester and track rustlers.
Careful, Autumn, or you’ll start liking him, and you know where that leads. She rubbed her hands to keep them warm. Her insulated gloves were not doing their job, which meant the temp was falling fast.
“Well? Can I pencil you in for Saturday dinner?”
“That’s the night before my brother’s wedding.” She was surprised at the hint of regret she heard in her words, and more surprised at the twist of regret she felt.
“Wedding, huh? Do you need a date for that?”
“You are persistent.” She was rolling on the floor laughing, or she would be if the ground wasn’t covered in wet, icy stuff. His laughter joined hers rising on the wind, and her heart lightened. Yes, it was very tempting to like the man, but did she dare?
“I’m a fair shot because I did time on SWAT and a hitch in the army out of high school.” His voice changed, grew richer and deeper as if with memories both good and difficult. She would have given anything to be able to see his face, to read the emotions revealed there.
“You were in the army?” She couldn’t say why that came as a surprise to her. Maybe because from the moment they’d met she had wanted to keep him at a distance.
“I learned to shoot on my granddad’s property in Kentucky.”
“Kentucky?” As in horses?
“He was a trainer, but he kept his own stable. It’s where I learned to ride.”
She had leaped to far too many conclusions. A small twist of shame spread through her, something that not even the bitter cold could dull. “And when you and your grandfather would sit and read Westerns together, it was in Kentucky?”
“Technically in his house in Kentucky.”
Impossible to miss the amusement in his voice. Embarrassment flooded her. “You didn’t know anything about cattle. What was I to think?”
“You were relying on what you knew of me. I’m sure Tim, the mayor, had no problem telling everyone I was from a big city.”
“It caused a big ruckus at the town meeting, since all the ranchers on this end of the county showed up demanding the council hire someone sympathetic to our needs. I was in that room, so I know.” She remembered how outraged several ranchers had felt when the new hire had been announced. “My dad said we ought to give you a chance, and I can see he was right. I guess I expected someone much different from you.”
“And you can admit you were wrong about me?”
“It appears I’m going to have to.” They crested a hill, and the wind picked up, whipping with a frenzy and driving ice through her clothes. Ford’s phone rang. For a moment there she’d forgotten they weren’t alone.
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