The Bride Wore Red Boots

by Lizbeth Selvig

  “She saves people,” Rory told her, a hint of pride in his voice. In light of his mother’s death only days earlier, it was an amazing thing for him to say.

  “And cats.” She stroked his cheek. “You’re needing to be brave all over the place today, kiddo. I’m really proud of you.”

  “I’ll bring him down, Miss Mia,” Skylar said. “Don’t worry.”

  The teen had grown close to Harper in the months since their father had died. Sky had grown into a smart, sassy, highly artistic and insightful young woman in the years all the sisters had been away from Paradise. She was proving right now that her reputation for poise was justified.

  “Thanks, Skylar. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

  By the time she reached the scene, back in doctor mode and steeled for the worst, she found to her immeasurable relief a pissed-off Finney, seated in the dirt of the round pen, arguing with Gabe about getting up.

  “Here she is.” Gabe caught her eyes. “Let her look you over, and she gets to make the call.”

  “Back everyone,” Mia ordered to the knot of family pressed around Finney’s agitated form.

  Leif Thorson, the laconic, kind, and mustached original ranch foreman who’d always been like a grandfather to the Crockett sisters, nodded at her arrival. “I think he’s just a little shaken up,” he said, stepping back, pronouncing it “yoost a little” in his easy Norwegian accent.

  “Thanks, Leif. Damien?” She knelt beside him. “Tell me what happened.”

  “I scared her,” he said adamantly. “You’ve got to let me help catch her.”

  “Not until I know what happened.”

  “I forgot to take down the plastic bags we had tied to the rails for desensitizing Pat’s horse. He’s ready for that. Pan isn’t. She spooked even before I got the gate closed. She reared and made this crazy run around the pen and then just galloped right passed me. Her head and shoulder shoved me over so I couldn’t grab her halter. I hit the ground hard, got the wind knocked out of me, but I didn’t get hurt.”

  “Did you hit your head?”

  “Just on the ground.”

  “Lose consciousness?”

  “No!”

  “Do you remember the whole incident?”

  “Every second. She was scared to death. I feel awful. About her,” he added quickly.

  Mia stared at him. She couldn’t remember ever hearing Damien Finney say he was sorry for or about anything. Mr. Tough Guy never blamed or took blame. He just got angry. But he wasn’t angry at the horse at all. Amazing.

  “Any dizziness now? Follow my finger.”

  “Really?” he asked. “You guys do that?” He followed the motion of her fingertip perfectly.

  “Yes. Did Pan’s hooves touch you?”

  “Not at all.”

  Finally Mia allowed her breath to release and her pulse to calm. She ran a hand over the back of Finney’s head and felt no lumps yet. “Okay,” she said. “Let’s get you up. Slowly.”

  Gabe and Leif each grabbed one of Finney’s arms and hoisted him to his feet.

  “Any dizziness now?” Mia asked.

  “Nope. Let me go. She knows me best.”

  “We need to talk about her, Damien,” Mia said. “She’s a hot-headed little girl. We’ve discovered that all week. This was just a warning—you could get seriously hurt. It’s possible, in fact it’s likely, she just isn’t going to make a good project horse. Some never do.”

  “She is a good horse,” he said, his voice tightening. “She’s fine. This wasn’t her fault.”

  “But she hasn’t learned enough self-control to stay out of your space. She has to do that even when she’s scared.”

  “She’ll learn.” Anger crept slowly into his words.

  Mia looked helplessly at Gabe, but to her dismay he shook his head. “It’s his horse,” he said.

  “Leif?” She tried her old friend. “When I thought he’d been injured, I was beside myself. This whole project is on me.”

  “No, it’s on me,” Gabe said, taking her hand. “I gave the okay and got the permission. And now that it is underway, that point about who started it is moot. Stuff happens.”

  “The point is, the project is only worthwhile if it’s safe. That’s not a safe horse for a beginner.”

  “Sweetheart.” Leif took her other hand and smiled. “You’ve been away from this life for too long. You’re talkin’ like a city slicker. Since when have you been afraid of horses? How many times were you and your sisters knocked down or stepped on or dumped off?”

  Mia let out a frustrated growl. This was all beside the point—moot or not. She started to protest but at that moment, Skylar and Rory reached the fence and Sky boosted her temporary charge onto the bottom rail so he could see over the top. Mia’s heart skipped in fear. What if it had been him?

  She pulled her hands from both men. “You’ll be crawling back to me in apology if someone gets hurt.”

  “He didn’t die?” Rory called.

  The men broke into laughter. Mia scowled. “Oh, come on, you guys. That’s just wrong,” she said. “No, kiddo, he’s just fine.”

  Leif patted her on the head as if she were five and walked away chuckling. “Time to go rope us a mustang. C’mon tenderfoot, let’s get your pretty little horsie.”

  He slapped Finney on the back and Damien looked at Mia. “Go,” she said. “If she runs at you, next time, dodge.”

  Two long, strong arms wrapped her from behind. Gabe’s familiar, heady scent sent her blood zinging through her veins.

  “Thanks for sticking up for me,” she said sarcastically.

  “Did you see the look in Finney’s eyes?” he asked. “I haven’t ever seen that kind of passion in him. Taking that mare away from him now would kill it for good. He’d never stop believing that the whole world was against him. You’d be no different to him than the people running the benefits departments. No different than the brass in the army. But let him fight this out, win this battle, and you might save a guy from himself.”

  She closed her eyes, grabbed his wrists with her hands and leaned backward. “You see the good in everything.”

  “I see the changes. Finney’s change is seismic—in just a week. Don’t give up on him.”

  “I’m not. I’ve just learned to care about the big jerk.”

  “Show him, by letting him follow his instincts.”

  She opened her eyes and spun in his arms. “What are you? Everyone’s safety net?”

  “I’d be happy to be yours.” He nuzzled her nose with his, and she laughed, letting her irritation and worry go. “But there are new and small people here now.”

  “New and small people go to bed early.” She arched an eyebrow at him, her stomach dancing.

  “Don’t you tease about something like that.”

  “It would hardly be ‘us’ if I didn’t.”

  “Hey, newlyweds. Get a room!” Harper’s laughter carried from across the round pen. “Or come help find the mare.”

  “Newlyweds?” Gabe frowned in confusion.

  “Any new couple. It’s just stupid.”

  “I vote for the room,” he said.

  “I’m shocked. And a little flattered.” She kissed him on the cheek, afraid his lips would entice her to linger.

  “SHE’S REALLY BEAUTIFUL.”

  Rory stood beside Skylar on the middle rail of a section of six-foot pasture fence, staring at the five mustangs, including Pan, who was now safely contained. Mia stood on the ground beside Gabe and Finney one section to Rory’s right, looking between rails. Cole, Harper, and Leif stood two sections to Rory’s left. Pan the troublemaker grazed peacefully inside the fence with the others, swishing her tail at the giant, downy snowflakes that had started falling as the search team had brought her home. The mare gave no indication she’d just led half a dozen people on a two-hour chase through Paradise’s lower pastures.

  Mia lifted her head and let the flakes drift onto her cheeks. Their damp little kisses cooled her adre
naline-fueled flush from the chase, as well as the electric heat from the little circles Gabe massaged into her neck.

  “I agree,” he said. “She’s an awfully pretty horse. You should have seen her running.”

  “The little siren,” Mia said. “She’s got the whole place under her spell now, and she knows it. I’ve changed my mind. She’s not mean. She’s just vain.”

  “I’ve always been a sucker for gorgeous, narcissistic women,” Finney said.

  “Well you found a doozy,” Mia said. “But I have to admit. She does know you. Whether she wants to admit it or not, she has a thing for you, too. You did a wonderful job with her once we had her lassoed. Sorry it came to that.”

  Finney shrugged. “It was fun seeing you swing a rope.”

  “Fun?” Gabe repeated. “I’ve never seen anything so sexy in my life.”

  “Hush!” Mia cuffed him on the chest. “Small ears.”

  “Aw, I know what sexy means.” Rory gave a perfect and appropriate ten-year-old’s sneer of disgust. “I just can’t believe Dr. Mia knows how to rope a horse.”

  “A running horse,” Gabe clarified.

  “Bah,” said Mia. “If Joely had been there she wouldn’t have missed even once, and she’d have had her in a fourth of the time I did. I never could beat her. She does rope tricks, too.”

  “I don’t care. You were pretty frickin’ awesome, Dr. Cowgirl.”

  “Can I see you rope sometime?” Rory asked.

  “Sure. I’ll teach you how. Or Skylar can. She’s a good roper, too. Her grandpa Leif taught all of us.”

  “He did,” Skylar agreed.

  “How about me?” Gabe whispered. “Can I learn, too?”

  “I have other things I’d like to show you how to do with a rope.” She snuggled into his side, smiling secretly at the shocked stiffening in his body.

  “Oh. My. G— You did not just put that thought in my head.”

  “Down boy. I’m not that kind of girl. A lariat is far too long for that sort of thing anyway.”

  With a suddenness that robbed her of breath, Gabe tugged her around a quarter turn and hauled her into his arms. Then he backed her against the fence and pressed his chest, his belly, and thighs to her, rolling hot sparks slowly, subtly down her body.

  If no one spared more than passing attention they probably wouldn’t see anything but an impending kiss, but still, Mia stole a furtive glance at the others, especially Rory. All eyes were on the horses. Then Gabe obliterated all thoughts of anyone else by rocking his pelvis forward and sending shockwaves to every nerve fiber. Hard and unmistakable, his arousal pressed against her. Heat filled her limbs, chills chased up her spine and spilled across her shoulders. Liquid rushed to her core.

  “I’ve been fighting this all afternoon because of you,” he whispered. “And you just lassoed and hog-tied every stitch of my self-control.”

  He pulled away, leaving her hot and cold but most of all bereft. He shifted and leaned sideways against the fence, facing away from the others. She stroked his cheek because she couldn’t stand not touching him. She grinned because she should have been sorry to cause him discomfort—but she wasn’t.

  “I’m going to leave you here in the snow to cool off. Then I’m going to bring Rory back to the house to get ready for dinner. The sooner he eats,” she lowered her voice further, “the sooner he’s ready for bed.”

  He closed his eyes and shook his head. “You’re tough on a guy, you know that?”

  “I’ll try to be nicer next time.”

  FOR RORY’S FIRST dinner, Grace, Raquel, and their mom had opted for a full-on traditional Sunday supper—a big beef roast with mounds of creamy mashed potatoes, thick gravy, carrots and peas. They plied the boy with fresh rolls and homemade raspberry jam. And for dessert they let him fill his own bowl with Belgian chocolate ice cream. He ate like a starving child, which delighted the latent grandmother in Bella and brought out the “this isn’t going to happen like this every night” gene in Mia.

  In one short afternoon, Rory had tightened his hold on her heart. Logic told her she hadn’t faced anything difficult with him yet. He was still grieving, so he clung to Mia. She hadn’t ticked him off yet, or enforced many rules, so he didn’t yet look at her as a parental figure. Here in Wyoming she didn’t have to get him ready for school or fight about classroom-appropriate slogans on T-shirts. When all that hit the fan, the novelty of imposed guardianship would likely wear off, and then where would she be?

  The night went like clockwork after that. No disastrous phone calls came in. Nobody got sick. No dishes broke. No animals were harmed doing anything. Except for the rush of pleasure that washed over her every time she looked at Gabe, the whole atmosphere was mundane, calm, almost boring. And pretty wonderful.

  Mia helped Rory unpack his suitcase into dresser drawers. Gabe helped him set up his computer so he could play for a while. But even with the lure of a popular game, he started yawning in front of the screen by seven thirty.

  Gabe sat beside him at the desk in the new room, pointing out details of the game they were learning together. Mia stood to the side letting her astonishment mix with the low pulse of desire that hadn’t diminished since their episode at the pasture fence. Gabe’s warmth of demeanor awed her and made him irresistible. She’d always thought it a made-up trope that women were turned on by men who were good with children. She’d been wrong.

  Vibrations that still hummed through her body left her with un-guardian-like wishes that Rory’s long trip would conk him out sooner—much sooner—rather than later. She picked a book off one of the shelves and turned it over in her hands. The Phantom Tollbooth—a classic. Did modern-day kids, spoiled by the shiny and spectacular entertainment offered by video car races and realistic battles, read anymore? Of course they did. Harry Potter . . . What else? She cringed inwardly. She knew nothing about what a ten-year-old like Rory liked.

  With a sigh she carried the book to where the two men sat and tucked it under her arm so she could rest her hands on Gabe’s shoulders. Tentatively she kneaded through his sweatshirt, exploring his shoulders, spreading her fingers and sliding them down to find the taut muscle around his shoulder blades.

  A groan of satisfaction floated to her and she smiled. Surprisingly, the little storm he’d started brewing in her by the pasture, he now calmed simply by existing beneath her fingertips. Her insides no longer felt like they’d been shot full of adrenaline. Her impatience disappeared. It was enough that he was here—for her and for Rory. Whatever came later would be sweet, sweet icing on the cake.

  When Rory yawned and rubbed an eye, Mia took her cue. “Hey, newest Wyoming Man, I was thinking. My mom read out loud to me and my sisters our whole lives—almost until we left home. How would you like to start a chapter book while we’re here?

  He turned slightly in his chair, his look quizzical. “What chapter book?” She held up her choice and he frowned. “I’ve never heard of it.”

  “This one has been around a long time,” she said. “It’s a classic.”

  “That usually means boring.”

  “Oh, you couldn’t be more wrong, champ,” Gabe said. “Books don’t get to be classics if they aren’t totally awesome. I loved that book when I was a kid.”

  Rory yawned again and shrugged. “Okay.”

  “Where do you want to go to sleep tonight?” she asked. “Here or in my room?”

  He contemplated the choices. “Are you going to sleep, too?”

  “Not yet,” she said. “But later. My room is right next to my mother’s, and she goes to bed pretty early, so she’ll be there if you need her. And Grace sleeps right next to this room. So there are lots of people if you get scared.”

  “I won’t get scared.” His voice didn’t carry a lot of punch, but he was sincere.

  “That’s really good. Because there’s nothing to be scared of. You know, my daddy built this house just the way he and my mom wanted it. So it’s strong and safe. But, still, sometimes we need someth
ing at night. And anyone here can help you anytime.”

  “I want to stay in your room.”

  “Come on, then.” She smiled. “I think it’s time to tuck you in and start a book.”

  “Can I listen, too?” Gabe asked.

  “If the bed is big enough,” Rory replied, and shrugged again.

  The steam in Gabriel’s look made Mia’s mouth go dry.

  “Well, let’s go and check it out right now.” His eyes never left hers. “I’m pretty interested in knowing that myself.”

  “HE MADE IT through about ninety-five percent of the chapter,” Gabe said. “Pretty good considering how often his eyes closed.”

  Mia pulled the sheet and blanket over Rory’s gently curled form, and stroked the thick, creamy fur of Jack, who’d found his little master and now nestled into the curve of his body, purring like a feline lawnmower.

  Warmth from Gabe’s hand on her back spread down her spine. She straightened, and the sense of domesticity, the image of this man as a husband and a father, flashed so strongly through her mind it scared her. She pushed away the thought, but not before the question popped out.

  “You really wouldn’t want one of these of your own?” She asked. His hand stilled momentarily. “Sorry. I don’t know where that came from.”

  The circles started up again. “He’s a perfect example of why.”

  “I know. So many like him who need help.” She understood Gabe’s conviction intellectually, but sadness welled up nonetheless. The urge to picture her own child in a bed like this was hard to ignore. “Well, I’m glad he’s here,” she said. “I feel like maybe this will be good for him—to know a place like Wyoming exists.”

  She left a lamp on for him and kissed his forehead.

  She led the way out of the room, and the moment they were in the hallway and she’d closed the door halfway, Gabe whirled her into his arms and placed his forehead against hers.

  “It’s good for him to have you in his life. You’re going to get him through this sad, hard time. He thinks the world of you.”

  “What happens, though, the first time I have to say no, or have to get after him?”