Riding Hard (9 page)

“Sprinkles? Is that his name?”

“I think it is.” She held the phone steady and snapped a couple of shots of the foal lying in the straw. “He looks like vanilla ice cream with sprinkles.”

“So he does.” Drake sounded amused.

“But you have a vote. If you have a name to propose, go right ahead. Without you, he might not even be here.”

“I like Sprinkles. Do you think we need to give Regan and Lily a vote?”

“Maybe, but let’s not. Let’s just announce that his name is Sprinkles. We were here at the critical moment, so I think that gives us naming privileges.” As she gazed at her phone’s screen, Dottie’s nose appeared. She nudged the foal. “Is this it?”

“This is it.” Drake came to stand next to her. “You’ll text these to me, right?”

“You bet.” She took shot after shot as Dottie coaxed her wobbly foal to test those toothpick legs against the pull of gravity.

She didn’t realize she was cheering softly until Drake joined in. They stood there like a couple of proud parents urging a toddler to walk. When he was finally standing on those impossibly long legs, they both uttered a muted cheer, one guaranteed not to startle the little guy and cause him to lose his balance.

Tracy got a few more shots of Sprinkles nursing before she turned off her camera. “So sweet. Should we give them some privacy?”

“Not quite yet. I have to stick around and make sure Dottie passes the placenta, but if you’re tired, go on back up to the house.”

She shook her head. “If you’re staying, I’m staying.”

“It won’t be very interesting from here on out. The drama is over.”

“I’ll get to be with you, right?”

“Yes, but I won’t be a lot of fun. I need to monitor these two and make sure everything’s fine, so if you brought another condom down, I wouldn’t be able to—”

“Are you suggesting that all I can think about when I’m with you is sex?”

He gave her a lazy grin. “Just for the record, I wouldn’t blame you for that. It’s quite a compliment, when you stop to think about it.”

“Well, just for the record, I would love to stay down here and talk with you, even if we can’t have sex.”

He met her gaze. “That’s an even bigger compliment. Thank you, Tracy.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll go get the blanket and make us a nice place to sit. And then we can discuss why you’re considering giving up your profession.”

He groaned at that, but she ignored him. Drake Brewster needed to exorcise his demons, and she was just the person to help him do it.

9

D
RAKE
HAD
GROANED
partly because he thought Tracy expected him to. Secretly he was relieved to have someone willing to discuss what he should do with his life. The men in his family weren’t supposed to have doubts, and if they did, they knocked back a few shots of bourbon and forgot about their worries. As the only son of a man who’d always been cloaked in absolute certainty, Drake had never felt free to be unsure.

While he examined mother and foal for any signs of stress, Tracy arranged their seating. He came out to discover she’d doubled the blanket and laid it alongside the outer wall of the stall. She sat on one side of it, her arms wrapped around her bent knees.

She freed one hand to pat the spot next to her. “Take a load off, cowboy.”

“I love having you call me that.” He dropped down beside her and sat cross-legged. “But much as I like it, I don’t qualify.”

“Sure you do.” She glanced over at him. “You know your way around horses and you look good in the clothes. You’ll pass.”

The woman sure could make him laugh. “But I can’t twirl a rope and I’ve never ridden in a Western saddle. Just English.”

“We can fix that tomorrow.” She picked up her phone and looked at the time. “Or more accurately, today. But you are missing one critical component of cowboyness.”

“I’m probably missing several, but what one are you thinking about?” Feet in front of him, he relaxed against the wooden wall behind them. Tonight he’d made love to a woman and watched over the delivery of a healthy foal. Good stuff.

“You don’t have a hat. Or if you do, I’ve never seen it on you.”

He turned his head to look at her. She looked right back, her dark eyes warm, her expression open and accepting. That made him feel like a million bucks. “You’re right. I don’t own a cowboy hat.”

“Why not?”

He couldn’t help smiling. She was so damned cute. She’d put her hair back in its ponytail, probably so it wouldn’t be in her way during the foaling. “I thought we were going to discuss my next career move.”

“We can in a minute, but I’m curious about the hat thing. I’ve watched plenty of folks come out to this part of the world, and if they like it here, they usually pick up a hat, even if they’re not planning to stay. You haven’t bought one.”

“I guess it’s a fair question.” He savored the feeling of being able to talk to her without worrying what she’d think. “I believe a hat signifies something important, and as I said, I don’t qualify.”

She took some time to absorb that. “Regan would probably teach you to rope, and two of these horses need to be ridden, so you could check that box fairly easily, too.”

“I hadn’t thought of asking Regan to teach me roping. Might be fun.”

“Then you could get a hat.”

Resting his head against the wall and closing his eyes, he thought about it, but even if he learned to throw a rope and spent some time in a Western saddle, he still couldn’t picture himself wearing the hat. “Don’t think so. A baseball cap is all I need.”

“A cowboy hat is more practical. It shades your eyes and the back of your head. Plus it looks really cool.”

“I know, but...” He tried to identify where his resistance came from, because she was right about the practical side of a Western hat. When it suddenly hit him, he sucked in a breath. Yeah, that was it.

“What?”

“When I was a kid, I liked cowboy movies. I even watched the old ones on cable, the ones where you could tell the good guys because they wore the white hats.”

She didn’t say anything, but her hand found his. She interlaced their fingers and held on.

“I admired everything about those guys. They were champions of the weak, they were honest to a fault, and...loyal to their friends.” It physically hurt his throat to say that last part, but he forced himself.

She squeezed his hand.

“I don’t deserve to wear that hat, Tracy.” When he felt her move and let go of his hand, he opened his eyes.

She quickly straddled his knees and took his face in both hands. “Yes, you do.” And she kissed him.

It was the sweetest, most loving gesture any woman had ever made to him. It spoke of caring and empathy, of encouragement and respect. He wrapped both arms around her and simply held her as he received her blessing—he couldn’t think of a better word for it—in the spirit it was intended. This wasn’t about heat and hunger. It was about redemption.

Slowly she ended the kiss and settled back on his knees. He opened his eyes to find her watching him, her smile soft. “What do you say now, cowboy?”

“Okay.” His voice was still hoarse with emotion. “I’ll consider getting a hat.”

She shook her head. “Not good enough.
Considering
means you’re still in the thinking stage.”

“What is this, a project?”

“I think it is, yes. You would look great in a hat, and I know exactly what we’re going to do.”

“Oh?” He liked the way she’d said
we,
as if they shared this project. “And what are
we
going to do, Miss Tracy?”

“We’re going shopping.”

“Oh, no, we’re not. If you help me pick out a hat in the Shoshone General Store, the gossip will fly. It may anyway, but that would ramp it up considerably. I can hear it now.
Nice hat. Understand Tracy picked it out for you. How are things going between you guys?
Wink, wink, nudge, nudge.”

“I wasn’t thinking we’d buy it here. I have to work from eleven to five tomorrow. Then I need to feed the critters, but after that, assuming Dottie and Sprinkles are doing fine, we’ll take a quick drive to Jackson. The stores are keeping summer hours. We can make it there before they close and be home again in a jiffy.” She grinned. “With a hat.”

She looked so proud of her idea that he couldn’t imagine saying no. “All right. I’ll drive us into Jackson.”

“Yay!”

Here she’d given him a gift by proposing this trip, and yet she acted as if he’d given her one by agreeing to go. He knew himself. Left to his own devices, he’d never buy a hat, even if he thought he was worthy of one. “But only if Dottie and Sprinkles are doin’ fine.”

“They will be.” She climbed off him. “Let’s take a look and see how they’re doing now.”

“Good call. Maybe Dottie’s delivered the placenta by now.” He hoped so. He couldn’t speak for Tracy, but he was tired. She had to be, too.

Tracy stood and peered over the chest-high enclosure. “Aw, Drake. They’re sleeping.”

He joined her, and it was the most natural thing in the world to put his arm around her as they gazed at the tender scene in the stall. Sprinkles had curled up in the shelter of his mother’s body, and both mare and foal were asleep.

Watching them, he felt a sense of accomplishment, and with it came another epiphany. He really did love working with horses. Whether he continued as a vet or not, he needed horses in his life. He might not be the horse whisperer Regan was, but he treasured working with them, anyway.

“That’s just precious,” Tracy murmured.

Precious
wasn’t a word he generally used, but they were darned cute. Sharing the moment with Tracy was pretty special, too, almost as if they were proud parents peeking into the nursery. He hated to disturb the magic of holding her against his side while they contemplated the miracle of a newborn foal, but she would want a picture of this. He should probably remind her to take one. She seemed mesmerized by the scene, though. Then she slid her arm around his waist and laid her head on his shoulder.

His chest tightened with an emotion he wasn’t all that familiar with. To hell with the picture. If she didn’t mention it, he wouldn’t either. He’d rather stay right like this.

In fact, he wouldn’t move if someone offered him a million bucks. Tracy had told him without words that she didn’t just lust after him anymore. She might still display that hair-trigger response under the right circumstances, but at the moment, she was communicating clearly that she
liked
him.

Earlier in the evening they’d become lovers, and that had been a big turning point in their relationship. But in the past few hours something more had passed between them, and they’d become friends. He valued the second stage even more than the first one, and he’d been crazy about that first one.

She snuggled closer. “I should get a picture.”

“Guess so.”

“But I hate to move.”

“Me, too.”

“This has been an awesome night, Drake. The kind of night that I’ll remember for a long time.”

“So will I.” He kissed the top of her head. “Thank you.”

She sighed happily. “I should thank
you,
but then we’d start that silly thing where we compete to see who gets in the last thank-you.”

“How do you know we’d do that?” He rested his cheek on the top of her head. “Maybe you’d say,
No, I should thank you,
and I’d say,
You’re right. You should.”

“I doubt it. That’s not you.”

“Try me.”

“Okay, I will. No, Drake, I should be thanking
you,
because you’re so wonderful and generous and—”

“Yep, I surely am. I’m amazing. In fact, I’m so special I think I’ll get me a hat.”

She started laughing, which broke up their cozy little moment, but he was okay with that. They were both getting slaphappy from fatigue. With any luck, Dottie had passed the placenta and he and Tracy could go to bed. That was an enticing prospect. He didn’t want to fall asleep and miss all the fun they could have.

Back in the stall, he located the placenta and tossed it into the bucket he’d brought for it. Dottie and Sprinkles continued to snooze as Tracy took a few more pictures.

Then she turned. “Are we ready to go?”

“Whenever you are.” He peeled off his gloves and set the bucket outside the stall. He’d deal with that later. “They’ll be fine for a few hours.”

She covered a yawn and glanced at her phone. “We have another three hours before it’s feeding time again.”

“Then let’s close up and head out.” Moments later they’d latched both the back and front doors of the barn. He caught her hand in his as they walked up to the house in the slight chill. Stars winked overhead and the crescent moon had already set. “I’ll set my alarm and feed,” he said. “You have to be at work by eleven, but I can nap.”

“That’s not right. Feeding the critters is what Lily and Regan are paying me for.”

“Yes, but circumstances have changed, so we have to be flexible. Besides, if you don’t sleep in, you’ll be too tired to go hat shopping.”

“You drive a tough bargain, Brewster.” She covered her mouth with her free hand as another yawn overtook her.

That second yawn convinced him that he should rethink his original plan for what would happen when they got back to the house. “Listen, maybe you should go back to your room so you can get some decent rest.”

“What?” She pulled him to a halt. “Are you kicking me out of your room?”

“Of course not! But you’re obviously tired, and if we both end up in my room, I may not be able to let you go straight to sleep, which you should, because you need your—”

“Shut up, cowboy.”

“Excuse me?”

“Just be quiet until we get to your room, okay? And then the only things I want to hear out of you are gasps and moans of ecstasy. None of this
you need your rest
garbage. Understood?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Suddenly he wasn’t the least bit tired.

“I guess you can also say
yes, ma’am
now and then, because that Southern drawl turns me on like you wouldn’t believe. No more being solicitous, though. I’ve been waiting to climb into bed with you for hours. Hay bales are fine once in a while, but I wouldn’t want a steady diet of having sex on them.”

Neither would he, but he didn’t say so. He was saving his breath for all those gasps and moans of ecstasy she’d promised him. Apparently the switch Tracy had flipped to give herself a change of attitude had been permanently turned on. And he was loving it.

“I will, however, let you feed the critters so I can sleep in. You make an excellent point about the shopping trip, and I need to be sharp for that. There’s an art to choosing the right hat, especially the first one. Eventually you’ll get a feel for how to choose them on your own.”

He grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”

“That’s what I like. A Southern gentleman in an agreeable mood. I can’t wait to get you naked.”

He was laughing, now, because he so enjoyed listening to her being sassy. But as they climbed the steps together and went into the house, he realized that he’d semicommitted to staying at least through tomorrow night. He doubted they’d come home from a hat-shopping trip and not want to celebrate the event appropriately, which would be in his bed.

But if Dottie and Sprinkles continued to do well, he had no official reason to stay after that. The mare had foaled and Tracy was no longer afraid of her sexuality. If he stayed beyond tomorrow night, word would surely get out.

After that, he could reasonably predict that someone, most likely Josie, would demand to know his intentions. After all, he’d told her he wouldn’t be getting involved with Tracy. Unfortunately, he had no idea what his intentions were.

At least he had no idea for the future. The present was crystal clear, especially after Tracy drew him into the guest bedroom and clothes began flying everywhere. He couldn’t have talked, even if she hadn’t forbid him to. He was too busy kissing whatever wonders he uncovered.

He was particularly focused on her plump breasts. He’d denied himself the pleasure of touching and licking them when he’d made love to her in the barn, but he planned to correct that omission now. Once they were both stripped down to nothing, he tumbled her back onto the bed, cupped that glorious bounty in both hands, and feasted.

Moaning, she arched into his caress, which sent desire shooting through his veins. He couldn’t seem to get enough of her. After putting up with a blanket tossed onto a hay bale, having her stretched out on the bed, where he had access to every bit of her, made him determined not to miss a single inch of soft, moist skin.