She winked exaggeratedly at the men, who were lapping up her antics like thirsty dogs at the trough, rather than the kissing booth.
“Looks as if you’re doing just fine without my business,” Clint replied, caught off guard by the realization that he wanted to kiss her. Not a token peck in front of the crowd, but one of those slow wet kisses that made his blood simmer.
The knowledge shook him. When had he started thinking of Dory in those terms?
“Chicken,” she taunted, her glittering eyes locked with his as she plucked the tickets from the hand of her next customer.
Clint smiled. Oh, he planned on kissing her, all right. Later. Without an audience.
In fact, if she was willing, he planned on doing a whole lot more than kissing.
Dear Reader,
These past two years have been a time for me to flex my writing skills. I’ve contributed to an anthology with two other authors, written two time travels and this ENCOUNTERS story. Of all the departures from my usual path, I had anticipated that the ENCOUNTERS would have been the easiest. Not so.
What a roller-coaster ride Texas Heat was for me to write. I love ranch settings and fish-out-of-water stories, so no problems there. I’ve written in short format before, so again, no problem with that. The characters themselves are the ones who gave me trouble. It was too hard to let them go.
As different as heroines Dory, Lisa and Jessica are, I totally adored each one from the start. I thought they found the perfect heroes, and I wanted to stay with them on their journeys. And soon you’ll meet Kate Manning again…I’m plotting her story now, and since she’s best friends with Dory, Lisa and Jessica, I think I just may have to find out what the ladies are up to. Well, time to get back to work.
Enjoy!
Debbi Rawlins
Debbi Rawlins lives in central Utah, out in the country, surrounded by woods and deer and wild turkeys. It’s quite a change for a city girl, who didn’t even know where the state of Utah was until four years ago. Of course, unfamiliarity never stopped her. Between her junior and senior years of college she spontaneously left home in Hawaii and bummed around Europe for five weeks by herself. And much to her parents’ delight, she returned home with only a quarter in her wallet.
Prologue
THE WILD, WILD WEST
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
WILD AT HEART
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
WILDFIRE
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Epilogue
“I THINK THEY’RE HERE,” Maria, the Manning’s longtime housekeeper said as she stopped squeezing lemons and squinted into the sun streaming in through the window.
Excited to see her college friends, Kate Manning yanked off her apron and started out of the large crowded kitchen when she remembered her engagement ring sitting on the windowsill over the sink. She grabbed the one-karat diamond solitaire and smiled wryly at Maria, when the older woman shook her graying head in mock disapproval.
Kate had accepted the ring from her boyfriend of two years a month ago and had already misplaced it three times. No doubt a psychologist would have a field day with that information. Lately, Kate had been wondering herself what lay beneath the uncharacteristic absentmindedness. But not now. She didn’t have time to think about anything but the weekend’s festivities. Here at the Sugarloaf, her family’s ranch, the Fourth of July celebration was a Manning tradition that included neighboring ranches for fifty miles.
She slid the ring onto her finger as she hurried through the sprawling ranch house to fling open the front door. The black Town Car she’d sent to the Houston airport for her friends pulled into the circular driveway and stopped several feet from the wraparound porch.
Lisa Stevens stepped out of the car first, blond, beautiful, perfect figure, gorgeous hair, flawless skin…she hadn’t changed a bit since college. Or maybe Kate didn’t notice a difference because Lisa was the only one she’d seen since they’d graduated five years ago. A successful Chicago reporter, Lisa had tracked a lead to Dallas, and Kate had met her there for a night out. Naturally, Lisa had gotten her story. The woman could charm the fangs off a rattlesnake.
Dory Richards was right behind her, a direct contrast in torn, faded jeans, a baggy dark T-shirt and black running shoes. She looked as if she hadn’t brushed her long brown hair in a week, but then she’d always looked that way. A perpetual tomboy, even the few times she’d dated in college, Dory had never bothered with makeup or the latest clothing styles.
From the other side of the car, Jessica Mead rounded the hood of the car. Kate almost didn’t recognize her. The woman had totally transformed herself. Oozing sophistication and glamour, her hair was pulled into a fashionable French twist and her tailored sleeveless linen dress obviously hadn’t come off the rack. Absurdly high heels made her a good five inches taller than her college days of scruffy jeans and tennis shoes.
“Kate!” Dory noticed her first, rushing to her and nearly knocking her over in her enthusiasm. “You cut your hair.”
“Gosh, I did that over two years ago. I can’t believe it’s been five years. We swore we’d never let that much time go by.”
Lisa and Jessica joined them in a group hug, and then they dragged their luggage from the trunk of the car into the foyer. Lisa had a medium bag, Dory a small one, but Jessica looked as if she’d packed for a week.
“Very nice,” Lisa said, ducking her head to scan the formal living room off to the right. “Not exactly how I pictured a ranch house.”
Kate chuckled. “We never go in there. My mom insisted that we keep one room pristine for unexpected company.” Her parents had been gone for thirteen years now, but neither she nor her brothers had the heart to swap out the stuffy, impractical furniture. “Now, the rest of the house…well…just remember I have two brothers who live here.”
“Come on. Let’s see it.” Jessica held out her hand, and when Kate gave her a puzzled frown, Jessica sighed. “The ring, sweetie, show us the ring.”
“Oh.” Kate promptly held out her hand and wiggled her fingers, making the diamond sparkle.
“Wow, nice rock. They must pay school principals pretty damn well around here.” Lisa gave her a low five.
“I’ll say.” Jessica smiled. “He’s got my approval already.”
Dory teasingly rolled her eyes. “You’re so easy.”
“We are so not going there,” Lisa said, and everyone laughed, and then Jessica tried unsuccessfully to stifle a yawn.
“Sorry,” she murmured. “I’ve been working a lot lately.”
“You’re always working.” Lisa checked her watch. “What’s local time?”
Jessica looked at her in annoyed disbelief. “Look who’s talking.”
Dory shook her head. “Oh, here we go.”
“You guys must all be exhausted,” Kate cut in, still the peacemaker of the group. “The ninety-minute drive from Houston is bad enough, especially after a long plane ride.” She picked up one of Jessica’s bags. “Let me show you to your rooms. Take your time freshening up and then we’ll have some iced tea and talk.”
Impulsively, she set the bag back down and opened her arms for another group hug. It really was good to see them all together. Surely that was the reason for the emotion welling up inside of her. And nothing to do with misgivings.
TWO DAYS AGO Dory Richards had been swatting at mosquitoes in the humid jungles of Cambodia. Today she was in hot, dry West Texas. Good thing she slept well on planes. With all the traveling she’d been doing for the past three years, she’d quickly learned how to cheat jet lag.
Anxious to make the most of her long weekend, she didn’t bother unpacking her suitcase. So her clothes would be a bit wrinkled. It wasn’t as if she’d stoop to ironing them. Besides, she’d brought only jeans and T-shirts and two denim blouses. This was a ranch, after all, and she couldn’t imagine people getting too dressed up for the Fourth of July festivities.
She’d almost made it out of the guest room she’d been assigned when she caught a glimpse of her hair in the dresser mirror. The scary mess stopped her, and she conceded to dragging a brush through the long unruly strands before gathering the whole thing into a sloppy ponytail.
As soon as she stepped into the hall she heard kitchen noises and followed the clang of pots and pans, and a stream of excited Spanish. She found her friend Kate in the middle of the chaos, an apron around her slender waist and a wooden spoon in one hand as she rattled on in Spanish to a young olive-skinned woman kneading dough at the island counter.
Three other women were in the large modern kitchen, one busy at the stainless steel stove, stirring something in a huge pot, and the other two shucking corn. They looked up, smiled at her and kept working.
“Need another pair of hands?” Dory asked.
Kate spun around, her mouth twisting wryly. “I just might have to take you up on that.” She set down the spoon on the mauve-and-cream granite countertop and reached around to loosen her apron. “I’d really hoped to be more organized before you and Lisa and Jessica arrived so that we could visit more.”
Dory stopped her. “Hey, don’t worry about us. I’m ready to roll up my sleeves.”
Kate shook her head. “I’m usually so much better at this. I should be. Our family has only hosted the event for fifty years now.” She sighed. “I’ve been too distracted.”
“Gee, I can’t imagine why.” Dory grinned. “I can’t believe you’re gonna get married in six months.”
“Me, neither.” The fleeting look of panic on Kate’s face startled Dory. Kate slid a glance at the shorter, plump woman standing at the sink, suds up to her elbows and eyeing Kate with troubled black eyes. Kate smiled brightly and shrugged. “I had to do something to get us all together. Dory, this is Maria. She’s been with our family forever.”
They exchanged pleasantries, and then the woman went back to work and Dory studied Kate, wondering what the heck was going on. A couple of weeks ago Kate had called the gang, excited as all get out over her engagement. But something was wrong. “I can’t believe we let five years go by,” Dory said, frustrated. With a kitchen full of ears, now wasn’t the time for Dory to voice her concern. “Give me something to do,” she said. “Maybe later we’ll have time to talk.”
Kate’s eyebrows went up in amusement. “You ever learn how to cook?”
“Ah, well…there’s gotta be something else I can—”
The back door opened and everyone turned to look at the tall, broad-shouldered man who walked in, promptly removed his Stetson and shoved a hand through his longish dark hair. Well over six feet, he wore snug jeans, cowboy boots and a killer smile. “Morning, ladies.”
The young woman kneading dough blushed to the roots of her raven hair.
“Clint Manning, you better have wiped off your boots, or so help me—”
“Now, Katie, would I mess up your kitchen?” He looked past Kate and winked at Dory. “You must be one of my sister’s college friends she’s been all fired up to see.”
Dory didn’t miss the way he’d sized her up. Obviously he didn’t remember her. They’d met briefly back East at the graduation ceremony. Though Dory wasn’t the type of woman men usually did remember, a fact that didn’t bother her any. He, on the other hand, wasn’t a man many women forgot, no matter how short the meeting, and she suspected he knew it.
She moved toward him, her hand out. “Dory Richards,” she said, pumping his hand with too much enthusiasm, a bad habit that her boss had twice suggested she work on.
Surprise flickered in his green eyes, and then his mouth curved in a devilish smile. “I like a woman with a firm grip,” he said, and then exaggeratedly flexed his hand.
Kate swatted him with the apron she’d removed from around her waist. “You guys met at graduation, remember?”
“Did we?” Dory smiled innocently.
“Yeah, that’s right.” Clint nodded, clearly lying. “Nice to see you again.” He looked back at Kate as he opened the stainless steel refrigerator door. “What’s for lunch? I’m starving.”
“Lunch?” Kate glared at him. “Does it look as if we have time to make lunch?”
He frowned at her. “Hey, I’m not asking anyone to wait on me. I just figured this might be my last chance before the boys from the Double R get here with—”
“Oh, my God.” Kate covered her mouth with her hand and briefly closed her eyes.
“What?”
Kate squinted bleakly at her brother. “You’re going to kill me.”
“You did remember to order the lumber, right?” He rubbed his right temple, looking as if he already knew he wouldn’t like her answer.
She glanced at the round wall clock over the stove. “You still have time to pick it up. Take the trailer.”
Clint groaned. “That’s over a two-hour round trip, and that’s not counting loading.”
“I’m sorry. Dory will go with you.” Kate met her eyes, and Dory nodded. “She can help.”
“That’s a lot of lumber. I’m not taking a girl—” Clint pressed his lips together, his gaze fixed on his sister.
Dory grinned. “Yes?”
He slid her a guilty glance, and then grabbed an apple from a fruit bowl on the counter. “I’ll rustle up one of the boys from the back pasture to go with me.”
Kate sighed. “They’re all busy and we really don’t have time.”
Dory plucked a ripened pear from the bowl. “Come on, cowboy, I’ll try not to show you up.”
CLINT TOOK HIS OWN TRUCK, knowing he’d have to use the extended bed. After checking the trailer in the rearview mirror, he pulled out of the private dirt road that led to the family ranch and onto the highway. Beside him on the bench seat, Dory stretched out her long, jean-clad legs and munched her pear. Above her knee the faded denim was torn, matching another tear he’d noticed below her rear pocket. Nothing to do with making a fashion statement, that was for sure. Even her right hem was frayed where it skimmed a battered tennis shoe.
No, she wasn’t afraid of getting her hands dirty, he’d have to admit. She’d jumped right in to help hook up the trailer, and loaded the ramps and straps by herself. She hadn’t even waited for him to toss her a pair of gloves. Still, he felt weird letting a woman do physical work beside him. His sister was no flower herself, but even Kate stuck to her duties in the house.
“What’s the lumber we’re picking up for?” Dory asked, using the back of her wrist to wipe pear juice from the corner of her mouth. Her ponytail had loosened and her hair was all over the place.
Clint smiled at her lack of self-consciousness. “Tomorrow’s game booths.”
“Game booths? Like what?”
“The usual…tic-tac-toe, ring toss, that sort of thing.”
“Kind of like a carnival.”
“Yeah, I suppose.”
“We have a traveling carnival in Hawaii, but I haven’t been in years.”
Surprised, he looked over at her. “That’s where you’re from?”
“Yep, born and raised. My parents moved there during the free-love sixties era from Kansas. We lived in a commune until I was about thirteen.”
“You’re serious?”
She shrugged. “It’s not much different than you and Kate and your brother living here on the ranch all your life.”
He saw a major difference but no point in arguing. “How did you end up at a college on the East Coast?”
“A friend from high school talked me into it. I almost transferred out because I hated the snow. How about you?”
“I didn’t go far. University of Houston for four years. I liked coming home on weekends and working on the ranch with my brother, Joe.”
She shifted, bending one leg so that she faced him. “What did you study?”
“Business, believe it or not.”
“That is a surprise.”
Clint shrugged. “It’s not like I wanted to work in an office. I figured I might learn something that would make the ranch more efficient.”
“Did you?”
He gritted his teeth, annoyed that she was probing areas better left alone. “Yep.”
“So what kind of changes did you make?”
“Why all the questions? You writing a book?”
At his terse tone, she stiffened. “Jeez Louise, I thought we were making small talk, passing the time, being friendly.” She sniffed and twisted around to face the road again. “We don’t have to talk. We could listen to the radio if you want. Or I could sing to you. But I warn you, I can’t carry a tune worth a damn.”
He exhaled loudly. “Sorry, it’s kind of a touchy subject.” He felt the weight of her stare but she didn’t comment, which oddly encouraged him to add, “My brother, Joe, he wasn’t interested in making any changes.”
“Ah. He’s the oldest, right?”
Keeping his eyes on the road, Clint nodded. “He pretty much took over the ranch after our parents died. Kate was only fourteen and I was going into my senior year in high school.”
“He couldn’t have been much older himself.”
“He’d just finished his sophomore year at UCLA.”
“Wow!”
That was all Clint had to say on the subject. He knew he owed Joe a lot. It hadn’t been easy for him to drop out of school, take on the ranch and two resentful teenagers. Neither Kate nor Clint would’ve made it to college if it weren’t for Joe. But sometimes it was hard for Clint to keep his mouth shut when it came to the old-school way the ranch was still run. “So what do you do?”
“I’m a forensic anthropologist.”
He waited until he’d safely passed a horse trailer parked on the shoulder of the highway and then glanced her way. She was tightening her ponytail and with her arms raised, her T-shirt clung to her breasts. Odd he hadn’t noticed before how full and round they were. “I’m not sure what that means.”
“I study remains mostly.”
“Like bones?”
She chuckled. “Yeah, like bones.”
“Man, that would creep me out.”
“Wimp.”
He grunted but ignored her teasing. Figured she had a job like that. “So what? You work with law enforcement?”
“Actually, I’ve spent the last six months in Vietnam and Cambodia, identifying remains of missing soldiers.” The teasing tone was gone. Her voice had softened. “It’s so sad that families have had to wait this long to find out what happened to their missing loved ones from the war.”
“That’s true, all right,” he agreed quietly. “They’re lucky they have people like you to finally give them some closure.”
“Yeah, well, the findings are always kind of bittersweet, you know?”
“I can imagine.” His gaze went to her hands. Her nails were uneven but clean, the skin badly scraped on two of her knuckles. He understood now why she wasn’t like Kate’s other two friends. They seemed like nice enough women, pretty, well put together, his type actually. Stupid when he stopped to think about it, but the high maintenance ones were the kind that attracted him. Maybe that’s why he’d never entertained the thought of marriage. Too damn much work.
“Hey, look.” She straightened and pointed to an eagle soaring low against the cloudless blue sky. “Beautiful, isn’t he?”
Clint slowed down so he could appreciate the grace of the bird, and grinned. “How do you know it’s a he?”
“Guys have to try harder to attract a mate. That’s why males in most species have all the stunning feathers and bright colors,” she said matter-of-factly. “When it’s time to mate, girls just have to show up.”
He chuckled. She did have a point.
DORY WAS SURPRISED when they turned down a dirt road under an arching sign that announced the Double R Ranch. It had seemed more like twenty minutes instead of an hour since they’d left the Manning’s place, which was quite a spread as it turned out…about two thousand acres. Mostly flat pastureland, much of it fenced off for grazing cattle. For the entire ride, that pretty much had been all there was to see, more grazing land. Although she hadn’t focused on the scenery half as much as she had the man sitting beside her.
She liked watching his hands as they confidently gripped the wheel. They were large and tanned, the back of his fingers sprinkled sparingly with crisp dark hair. Rolled-back sleeves exposed broad, big-boned wrists and muscled forearms, and his blue cotton shirt did nothing to hide his well-formed biceps.
He obviously hadn’t shaved in a couple of days, and she wondered if that omission had been deliberate. Had he tried for that perfect, rugged, cowboy look? No, he seemed like a man who enjoyed the outdoors and wasn’t afraid to sweat. Sure, she worked with a lot of big, muscular guys like that on digs, but unlike them, Clint had a lithe grace that had caught her attention earlier when he hooked up the trailer.
Weird, because she wasn’t normally attracted to a man based on physical attributes, even one as good-looking as Clint. In fact, she tended to ignore the head-turners. She figured they got enough female attention.
The road to the Double R had obviously once been graveled and graded but not well maintained, and the truck dipped and bounced for nearly a mile before a large white house and outbuildings came into view. Good thing. Her fanny had had enough, and that was saying something since she seemed to spend half her life in a Jeep lately.
“I hope some of the hands are close by to help load the lumber.” Clint pulled the truck up to the front of the barn. “Kate was supposed to have called ahead.”
“I don’t see anybody.”
“The Reynoldses own this place, but times have been kind of tough for them lately,” he said grimly. “They lost a good deal of their herd to cattle rustlers last year and had to lay off half their men.”
“Rustlers? You’re kidding.”
“Wish I was.”
“That sounds like something out of the old west.”
“Darlin’, out here, it still is the old west at times.” He opened his door. “That’s why I told Joe that we’ve got to start looking at—” He cut himself off, shaking his head, and then slid out from behind the wheel.
Dory scrambled out on her side. “What did you tell him?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Of course it matters.” At his annoyed expression, she shrugged a shoulder. “Look, I’m just curious. What was your idea?”
The way he set his jaw told her it was time to leave the subject alone. He picked up his hat, pushed a hand through his hair in obvious frustration, and then reset the Stetson on his head. “I’m gonna go check if anyone’s in the barn.”
She leaned a hip against the truck and watched him walk away, his strides long and purposeful. Was he in a hurry to get away from her probing questions? Or worried about getting the load of lumber back in time to start working on the game booths? Probably both, she thought, sighing.
It wasn’t that she was being nosy. She didn’t have brothers or sisters, and although she understood sibling dynamics on a textbook level, she lacked the human experience. She did know that Kate adored both of her brothers, and that the older one had become more a father figure over the years. But Clint was older than Kate, about thirty was Dory’s guess, so he probably didn’t appreciate the perception of being kept under Joe’s thumb.
Still, Joe obviously knew what he was doing to keep a ranch that large profitable. Dory wisely kept the observation to herself.
She shaded her eyes and gazed around the Double R. The place was spread out with a barn, what looked like a bunkhouse, stables and a corral where three horses grazed. But, unlike the Manning’s ranch, there was no buzz of activity. Then again, she knew some of the goings-on had to do with the big July Fourth get-together.
Clint emerged from the barn, solo, his expression grim, and she had a feeling they had a ton of work ahead of them. She didn’t mind. She just hoped he had a spare pair of gloves. Getting dirty was one thing, but getting pricked by splinters was something else.
“The lumber is stacked behind the barn,” he said, shaking his head as he closed the distance between them. “But we’re not gonna get much help loading. Part of their south fence came down last night in the wind and most of the men are rounding up strays.”
“No problem. We should be able to handle it. But I’ll need some gloves.”
He pulled open the driver’s door, eyeing her with amusement. “I deliver you back crippled and Kate will take a branding iron to me.”
“Oh, please.” Dory tightened her ponytail, preparing for the work ahead. She might be useless in the kitchen, but out here…this was her world. “I bet I load as many boards as you do.”
One side of his mouth hiked up. “Get in. We’ll drive around to the back.”
She did as he asked, smug in the knowledge that she was going to surprise the heck out of him. She was in better shape than she looked. Often she’d hiked uphill for miles to get to a dig site, and then spent another two hours with shovel in hand. Loading lumber would be a vacation.
“Check the glove box,” Clint said as he steered the truck around the barn. “There might be some in there. If not, I might have a pair in my toolbox in the back.”
She opened the compartment, which was jammed with the truck manual, a package of beef jerky, binoculars, a couple of maps and a small box of condoms. Quickly she slammed the door and stared straight ahead as they rounded the barn.
“Nothing, huh?” He pulled the truck to a stop. “If we don’t find a pair, you can use mine.”
“A callus or two won’t kill me.” She jerked on the door handle, anxious to jump out, annoyed with herself for being so flustered. So what if he kept condoms in his glove box? Good to know he was responsible. Although it didn’t matter to her. Why should it?
“Wait a minute,” he said, and slid an arm across the seat back behind her shoulders.
Her chest tightened as he slowly turned his face toward hers, his warm moist breath brushing the side of her jaw. She blinked, frozen, not knowing what to do, before finally giving in and meeting his eyes. He flashed her a grin and then twisted around to look out the rear window as he backed the truck and trailer toward the pile of lumber.
She let out a whoosh of air, and before he cut the engine, she jumped out of the truck, willing the heat that stung her cheeks to subside. Had she totally gone out of her mind? She seriously needed some rest. How could she actually have believed for a second that he’d been about to kiss her?
“You okay?” He’d gotten out and come around the back of the trailer to stare at her, his green gaze warm with concern.
“Fine.” She looked away and nodded toward the daunting stacks of lumber. “That’s it?”
Clint chuckled. “That’s enough.” He lowered the truck’s tailgate, hopped up on the bed and went to a large metal toolbox anchored down behind the cab. After rooting around inside he produced a pair of tan leather gloves that he tossed to her.
She tried them on. They were too big but better than nothing.
He gathered the heavy-duty tie-down straps and bungee cords they’d brought and jumped off the bed. “I’m thinking I’ll load and you should get up there and make sure the boards stay stacked until we can strap them down.”
Dory smiled wryly, knowing that he was trying to keep her task light. “How about we both load and then worry about securing them?”
He studied her for a moment. “Hugh is the Reynoldses’ foreman. He’s the only one in the barn. If he sees you working, he’s gonna want to come out and help. The guy turned seventy last month and has a bad back.”
“Then quit talking and let’s get this done before he sees me.” She adjusted her gloves and tried to pick up four boards at once, but quickly found that her limit was three.
Clint mumbled something she couldn’t hear, and then more clearly said, “You stick to the trailer, and I’ll load the truck.”
She didn’t argue. With the trailer being lower to the ground it was easier for her to stack the boards and she’d be better able to keep up with his pace. On the negative side, given the distance between them, the capacity to ogle him as he worked was far greater. Unfortunately, she found the temptation hard to ignore with the way the worn denim of his jeans molded his leans hips and appealing backside.
Though after forty minutes working under the broiling afternoon sun, her thoughts pretty much narrowed to finishing the job. She was tired and thirsty and only sheer stubbornness drove her to keep picking up boards and swinging them onto the trailer. The steady rhythm she’d engaged was hypnotic, and when Clint called out for her to take a break, he startled her. She spun toward his voice, the movement dizzyingly fast, and she felt her body sway.
“Hey, you okay?”
“Yep, fine.” She grabbed the trailer railing for support.
He pulled off his gloves and got them each a bottle of water from the truck’s cab. “Here.”
“Thanks.” She fumbled with the cap and then greedily downed two large gulps so fast that it made her chest hurt.
“Take it easy,” he said, touching her arm. “You shouldn’t let yourself get that thirsty.”
She nodded. “I know better.” The warmth of his skin on hers did nothing to help clear her head, so she moved her arm away.
Confusion flickered in his gaze and he seemed about to say something when they heard the pounding of hooves coming in their direction.
“Clint!”
Dory squinted into the sunlight and saw a woman riding toward them, her pale blond hair streaming behind her in the breeze. Her face flushed, the blonde reined in the beautiful brown-and-white horse, stopping the animal only several feet from where they stood. She leaped down and rushed to throw her arms around Clint.
Pulsuz fraqment bitdi.