The flannel she was wearing slipped to her shoulder as he delicately explored inside it. She pulled back for a few short seconds, then let her fingers play over the buttons, and undid them with a playful, seductive smile on her lips. Then she sat up and pulled off the shirt in one quick motion. In the firelight, her breasts shone like copper.
“Abadabun,” Wolf whispered as he sought her nipples, pressing his mouth on her until he could feel her open to him.
Chapter Thirteen
Abby woke yet again to the sound of her ringing cell phone. The caller ID said, “Bridge,” and she giggled to herself as she realized that her best friend’s brother was sleeping peacefully beside her, his calf draped over her ankle. The look on Bridget’s face if, impossible as it was, she walked in on them right now! Abby ignored the call, but instead of a voicemail, a text appeared. Abby took a deep breath, and read it, in dreaded all-caps: “CALL ME. RIGHT NOW.”
With a feeling like touching ground back home after a blissful tropical vacation, she disentangled herself from Wolf, tiptoed down to the kitchen, and called Bridget back.
“Is that you, Abby?” she asked, barely audible—it was a bad connection. “You’re actually alive?”
“Yep.” She looked out the window to see that the storm, finally, had slowed to a light drizzle. “Alive and kicking.”
“I’ve left you three messages.”
“I’m sorry, reception’s spotty here.” She put on her most serious face. “Bridge, don’t make too much of this, okay? But I agreed to help Wolf with his main horse. With Bullet.”
Bridget laughed. “You think I didn’t know that? I was the first one your mom called yesterday.”
“Right, of course.”
“Look, you’re an adult. And I know nothing’s going on. But you gotta be careful around him. He’s—how do I put this?—a persuasive guy. I love him, but he does what he wants, without worrying about anybody else but Numero Uno.”
“Okay, Bridge. I can handle it.”
“You can’t say you haven’t been warned.”
“I’ve been warned.”
“So you were only planning on a day trip, huh?”
There was something in Bridget’s tone. Abby could tell she was fishing for information, trying to get Abby to say something she didn’t want to say. “Yeah, but I had to stay. Driving all the way back to Bigfork would have been suicidal.”
“Yeah, it was a whopper.”
“Honestly, I’ve never seen anything like it. Hail and everything. Like, grapefruit-sized balls raining out of the sky.”
“Speaking of balls,” Bridget said, “Just please tell me you slept in the guest room.”
“Don’t be gross!” Abby laughed. Then, before she could stop herself, she said, “Of course I slept in the guest room.” The first night, at least.
“That must have been so weird. Being his…house guest.”
“Totally. I mean, the two headboards face each other, with a paper-thin farmhouse wall in between. I could hear him breathing.”
“Oh, that’s just creepy.”
“Yeah.” She had heard him breathing, of course, but it wasn’t creepy; it was cute. Wolf’s short rhythmic breaths had moved the tiny hairs on her arm—that’s how close they’d held each other in bed—and he looked just like a little boy.
What was Abby doing? While what she had said was technically true of the first night she’d spent at the ranch, omitting the teensy weensy detail that she’d slept with Wolf the following night? Well, she’d just lied to her best friend, for the first time ever. She hoped this wasn’t going to bite her in the butt later. But what choice did she have?
“So, are you going to come back now that the rain’s stopped?”
Again, Abby took note of the weather. “It’s actually still raining. Nothing serious, but it’s still coming down a little.”
“Tell me you’re coming back today. Seriously.”
She felt a surge of justification for her lie. Abby loved Bridget, but more and more she was tired of her mom and Bridget telling her what to do all the time. It was time to declare her independence, once and for all.
“Well, I’ve got a two p.m. session over at the Markley place. I was able to push back a couple appointments yesterday, but I’ve really got to get back into the swing of things.” She looked at her phone. It was already nine thirty. “The only problem is I’ll have to get going pretty quick here if I’m going to make that, and Wolf and I still haven’t water-walked with Bullet.”
“‘Water-walked’?” Bridget laughed. “You training a rodeo mare, or a Messiah?”
“Very funny. We’re doing aqua-therapy. Believe it or not, it actually works.”
“Well, are you going to walk on water with my brother, or keep your appointment with Mr. Jiffy Lube? It has to be one or the other.”
Well, I can always come back here another time. Or two or three. Suddenly, an extensive training program with Bullet and her owner didn’t seem like an altogether unpleasant prospect.
Despite how annoying it was to acknowledge it, though, Bridget was right. Abby’s time with Wolf had been such a whirlwind, but she wasn’t someone who broke or postponed appointments. On the one hand, she’d made a promise to Wolf, and really, to Bullet, to work with her. She wanted the mare to heal properly, or her hock could become a real injury soon enough. But she also didn’t want to build a reputation as a flake. Matt Markley would cut her some slack because of the storm, but he wouldn’t feel too happy about being postponed two days in a row if he looked outside and saw clear skies. She thought of a compromise: she’d push Markley to four o’clock, and get to work on Bullet this morning. She could cover the basics with Wolf, and he could report on the horse’s progress easily enough.
“Anyway, Abs, I’ve got some news of my own,” Bridget said. “Which, no offense, is a wee bit more exciting than yours.”
Abby could practically see Bridget gloating. “What is it?! Did Mark propose, finally?”
“Well…”
“Come on, tell me. I know he did, I just know it.”
“I’m not saying yes or no. I’ll tell you when you get back to Bigfork.”
“You are evil!”
Bridget chuckled. “Just consider this incentive. I need you back here. You’re my best friend, and this is a best-friend moment.”
“That is so unfair.”
“Get home safe. Give me a buzz when you’re back in home territory. Oh, and don’t breathe a word of this to Wolf.”
Abby heard a click, then silence. She shook her head at the phone. Bridget was a sadist. She hoped it didn’t run in the family.
…
Wolf woke to the welcome sight of Abby standing in the bedroom doorway, wearing his Pendleton shirt, her long coppery legs a beautiful contrast to the shirt’s forest green.
“How long have you been up?” he asked.
“A few minutes. I just talked to Bridget.”
He shot up in bed. “You didn’t…”
“Don’t worry, I didn’t say a thing about this. For both our sakes.”
“Thank God.” He lay back down, relieved that he wasn’t going to be the subject of a witch hunt.
“‘Thank God?’” Abby repeated. “You don’t have to look that relieved.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just…you know.”
“I do,” she said. “I do know.”
What a scary thought—for everyone to know about them. He tried to push it back down, but it wasn’t easy. Had he made a mistake here? Hooking up with Abby was absolutely amazing—she was the coolest girl he’d been with in ages, and the sexiest. Plus, they had so much history, it was easy to feel comfortable with her, and just hang out and enjoy the ranch. It had been the best two-day stretch he could remember here. But would Abby want to tell people? Hopefully not, after just a couple days together. They’d gone to bed together; they hadn’t gotten engaged.
He didn’t say any of this, though. That would ruin everything. He
just said, “Come back to bed.”
“I wish I could, but I’ve got to get going. The rain’s just about stopped, and I have a two p.m. appointment back in Bigfork. I can push it to four, but—”
Wolf stepped out of bed, nude.
“Oh my God, you’re shameless,” Abby said, covering her eyes. He spun her around and wrapped his arms around her. He could smell her own beautiful scent mixed with his own, coming out of the Pendleton.
“I’m so into you,” he said, nuzzling her, while thinking, don’t say too much, or go too far. But he couldn’t help himself. She was just too cute, too sexy, too everything. He needed to have his hands on her.
“Oh, me too.” He could feel the warmth of her cheeks as she smiled. For a moment he imagined actually telling their friends and families. Wolf Olsen, tied down, sure, but tied down to the coolest woman he’d ever met. Then he pictured himself literally tied down, like a steer under a cowboy, and smirked. Would that be so bad, being tied down like a roping steer by none other than horse whisperer Abby Macready?
But then he remembered he was going to be on the road for most of the rest of the summer. He imagined having to check in every couple hours, having to recount every single detail of his day over the phone the way most women seemed to demand. And the very idea exhausted him.
“Listen,” she said, pulling away from him, “I brewed some coffee. That’s about all I’ve got time for. Then, I’ll show you some basics with Bullet. After that, I gotta hit the road.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She pulled on her clothes in a hurry and walked down the stairs. He slipped on a pair of jeans and followed her.
She had a glance out the kitchen window. “Aww, the rain’s picking up again. We can’t do aqua-therapy in this. And I can’t stay here to wait out the weather. I’d better hit the road, after all.”
He opened the front door and held out his palm. Then he held it out for her to inspect. “You call that rain? I call it mist. We can totally water-walk in this stuff.”
Abby looked skeptical. “How’s the river look?” She turned around and peered through the back window.
“It looks like it always looks. Still and peaceful as a glacier lake.” And it did, really. There was no danger in that little creek, not to Bullet, not to either of them. As much as he wanted Abby to stay and hang out, of course he wouldn’t have put anyone of any species at risk, just to extend their fling for a few more hours.
Abby looked at her phone, then exhaled. Her eyes shone with something he couldn’t identify—purpose, mischief, some combination of both? “All right, let’s do it, then.”
“Now, that’s what I’m talking about.”
“I’ll show you a basic regimen, one you can more or less repeat daily. When’s your next event?”
“Great Falls Roundup, in six days. Then, Polson, four days after that.”
“Polson, really?”
“Really.”
“Really, as in, I’ll have ringside seats, really?”
“Most definitely. You’re on Bullet’s team now. Plus, the whole family’ll be there.” Another scary thought. He would have to put a damper on this thing with him and Abby if she’d be there sitting in the stands with the entire Olsen clan, and probably Doc and Marcie Macready, too. Either that, or they’d have to keep this secret KGB-tight.
Abby clapped her hands. “Come on, we’d better get a move on.”
“Nah, we need some grub. Just a little. I’ll whip up an omelette.”
Abby picked up two pieces of bread from the loaf on the countertop and popped them in the toaster. “No omelettes. This is all we have time for. Coffee and toast, then straight into the water.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said again.
He wore an ear-to-ear smile. But then, sipping his coffee and admiring Abby doing something as simple as buttering toast, he realized that, even with her extension, she was almost gone. He didn’t like the idea of hanging out without her, even in his very own home. It was like he missed her already.
…
“Don’t be afraid,” Wolf said.
“I don’t know.” Abby stood above the creek and looked down. The water was running six inches above normal, but it wasn’t like they were about to step into the Atlantic Ocean.
“Nah. It’s going to be fine.” Wolf stood next to her and loosely held Bullet’s lead line. The mare ducked her head into newly fragrant tufts of grass, pulling and tossing them over her shoulder.
“If you say so.”
“I’m thinking, the deeper the better.” Like I know all there is to know about aqua-therapy. “Isn’t the whole point to let the cold water reduce the inflammation?” He looked back at Abby. She was testing the depth of the water with her boot.
“Yes and no. We want her to feel confident enough about being in the water that she moves, at least a little. The more she moves in water, the better the circulation to the injured area.”
She looked adorable on the shore, waiting to spring into action. He remembered how she’d crouched over him last night, exploring him with long, tapered hands that sprung into action, too. Under the layers of fleece and denim and Gore-tex, Wolf felt himself harden and swell.
“Okay, let’s give it a go.” She reached for Bullet’s halter and led her slowly into the creek. The mare raised her head as if to ask Wolf’s permission, pawed the first pool of water with one tentative stroke, then backed away.
“Bully-girl. It’s gonna be fine.” Abby, after using Wolf’s very own nickname for Bullet, turned around and blew into the mare’s nostrils. Wolf remembered this was a calming technique, though it seemed a little silly, when a little shot of Xylazine would have done the trick. But that was the whole point, wasn’t it? Horse-healers use natural methods, herbal remedies. Abby wouldn’t be caught dead with chemicals in her bag.
He watched closely as she ran her hands down the mare’s forelegs and rubbed in circles until she reached the horse’s fetlocks. She led Bullet further into the creek. Now her back legs were submerged almost two feet, the injured hock covered by gently swirling creek water eddies.
The wind was rising again. Wolf zipped his jacket all the way up and shoved his hands back into his pockets. If Bonner saw me doing this, he’d mock me for the rest of my days. Aqua-therapy, my ass. This falls under the category of you-can-lead-a-horse-to-water-but-you-can’t-make-it-do-a-damn-thing. Bullet seemed oblivious to Abby’s ministrations. She nosed the water playfully, then took long sips.
“Looks like Bullet’s on a coffee break,” he said.
“She doesn’t have to do anything. She’s supposed to stand, walk a little, stand some more. I’m just trying to keep her relaxed in high water. It’s not her natural habitat, you know.”
Gradually, she worked her way around Bullet’s rump, then moved her hands down her left leg. This time, her motions were stronger, more deliberate. Her paddock jacket was soaked up to her waist. She seemed oblivious to the volatile weather, and to Wolf, too. She was crazy about what she did for a living. Or maybe just plain crazy.
“Okay, All-Round Cowboy. Come on in here and let me give you a few tips.” Abby motioned to him and he made his way toward the pool. She held one hand out, and Wolf stepped in. The rocks gave way beneath his feet, and he slipped.
“Uh oh!” he cried out, a little shrilly, like a child or an old woman. Damned embarrassing.
Abby toppled into the stream seconds later. Both floundered for footing as their rubber boots filled with water. He caught sight of her face, where consternation battled with helpless laughter. She spun toward him in a vortex of water and he caught her around the waist, Bullet’s lead line wedged between them.
“Darlin’, as much as I’d like to give you a manly hug right now, I’m going to take a rain check. Excuse the pun.” He was nervous—he’d never been much of a water-sports guy—and hoped she couldn’t tell. With some effort, he pulled her toward the creek bank until her feet gained hold on the slowly eroding earth. She yanked at Bullet’s line
and the horse clambered up after her. He held Bullet’s tail and scrambled up last.
“You’re a rescue horse in more ways than one, girl.” He slapped Bullet across the flank.
“What do you call that, that tail-grabbing?” Abby asked. She looked up at him, her hair plastered to her face, her eyes like two searchlights shining on his face in the pouring rain.
“It’s called tailing. Lots of ranchers use it to cover uphill territory and give their animals a break at the same time.”
“It’s a cool trick. But maybe save it for when we know Bullet’s at a hundred percent.”
“Right. Sorry.” He pretended to hang his head down, but kept his eyes on Abby’s face. It was a map of constantly changing emotions, whirling around like the eddies in the river. Hypnotizing, but it could make you dizzy if you looked too hard or too long.
“You think the water-walking’s going to work, then?”
“If we give it time, and you’re able to get her out here on a regular basis.”
“That’s all there is to it? Just bring her in, massage her hock a little?”
“Yeah, but consistency is the key. That means twice a day, morning and night. Alternate between walking and standing. She’ll respond. You’ll see.”
“I’ll do it. I promise. But I may claim a reward or two.” He breathed into the back of Abby’s neck, where her ponytail was caught under her coat collar. His lips hovered over her neck. He wasn’t sure whether to kiss or bite.
She gave him a quick peck, then held one hand out like a school traffic monitor. “Hey, come on. I’ve got to head back now. I know these weren’t ideal conditions, but…” She shook her bangs, and water flew like tiny silver bullets, spattering both of them.
“But it was ideal in a couple other ways.” Wolf pulled her into him.
She resisted. “No need to rush, bud.”
“Rush? We’ve been at it like a couple bunny rabbits for the last twenty-four hours.”
Abby laughed, but she was still holding back, the stubborn thing. “Bullet’s just finding her footing after a little injury. You’re not going to rush her, right? You’re going to follow the program?”
Dances with Wolf Page 10