Mallory's Bears(23)

“Uh-huh. I’m sure the Lawson thing is your big reason.”

She whirled on him, ready to argue, but he stuck up one of his huge hands to cover her face. She yanked his big paw away.

“Okay, okay. I believe you. That’s your reason.”

A few minutes later, she was racing him to the barn. She was quicker and got there first.

Damn, but they’re so hot.

Like a television ad for a new Western show, the men made her think of long, leisurely rides and cozy nights cuddled together in sleeping bags. Her body tensed in all the right places and her mouth went dry. Two other horses were saddled and ready with their reins wrapped around the top railing of a stall.

It wasn’t until she’d laid eyes on them and the tantalizing current hit her dead center, harder than ever, that she wondered. Had she ruined any chance of them having a longer, meaningful relationship? Her body craved theirs, but more stunning was the realization that she yearned for them in an emotional way as well.

What would it be like to stay with them for the rest of her life? What would it be like to have their children? When had she started thinking in terms of a relationship? And yet, she couldn’t dismiss the possibility, the hope that whatever was happening between could turn into something wonderful.

“Morning, sleepyhead.” Rick, dressed in his usual style of worn jeans, scuffed boots, and a black T-shirt, ran a palm over a large black horse. “We wondered if you were going to sleep until noon.”

She hadn’t expected a huge greeting, but she’d hoped for more than a “mornin’” and an admonishment about sleeping in. They were acting like nothing had gone on between them last night.

Gunner gave her a wink and yanked on the saddle cinch of his horse. “We thought you’d like to get a closer look at the livestock.” He shot her a bemused look. “As long as you don’t bring any paint. We like our cattle in their natural color.”

She loved his sense of humor, even when it was directed at her.

“But first, we’d like you to meet someone.”

She followed the men with Kid at her heels as they strolled down the middle of the barn and came to the last stall. A beautiful chestnut-colored horse scraped her hoof over the ground, demanding their attention, then shook her mane and moved toward the railing to lay her muzzle on Rick’s palm. The excitement of visitors sent the mare’s colt prancing and whipping his tail in a frenzy of circular movement.

“This is Rocket.”

“Oh, my God, he’s so cute.”

“We figured you’d think so. Come on inside. Don’t make any quick movements, though. He’s like any other youngster. Skittish and ready to kick.” Gunner opened the gate as Rick kept the mother horse occupied.

Copying the way he entered the stall, slowly, with her attention focused on the horse and her colt, she got as close to the baby as she could. She lifted her hand, then waited for the go-ahead to touch him.

“Aw, he’s so soft and sweet.”

“Yeah, he’s a good one. He comes from good stock. She’s a great dam and his sire is one of the best in the area.”

“So will he learn to run cattle? Or will you use him for rodeos and the like?”

Gunner cooed at the colt, trying to keep him calm. “We don’t do rodeos much anymore. We’d rather stick close to home. But he’s got his role to play.”

“And what’s that?” She made the same comforting sounds Gunner made. His wide eyes grew softer as he dared to push his muzzle against her leg.

“He’s going to a friend of ours who runs a ranch for kids with problems.”

“With problems? Like what? And how can he help?”

“Once he’s ready, this little guy will get paired up with a kid that’s had drug problems or comes from a lousy home. Horses have a knack for putting things in perspective and that helps the kids in residential placement facilities get their heads back on straight.”

“Really? That sounds great.” She caught Kid’s pointed look. Maybe she hadn’t done enough research before she’d accused Rick and Gunner of animal neglect. Two men who would help kids in trouble couldn’t abuse an animal, could they? Not to her way of thinking. “So you sell the horses to them and they train them?”

“We do both. The training comes free with the purchase of the horse. We figure we got lucky in life so it’s our way of giving back.”

They’re simply too good to be true.

She stopped, worry striking deep inside her. Maybe they really were too good to be true. What was the old saying? “If it seems too good to be true, it probably is”? What if last night was their way of distracting her or winning her over so she wouldn’t see the truth?