She nodded into his neck. Every second she stayed was making it that much harder to let her go. “I don’t have another pair of shoes. I’m sorry I wasn’t better prepared. For any of it.”
He willed his hands to let her go. And mercifully, they listened. “Trust me, this isn’t as bad as heat stroke. I’ll be right back.”
Moccasins. A woman like her could use a nice pair of moccasins. He had just finished a pair. Her pair. True, they were simple, just a medicine wheel in black, white, red and yellow on the top. Nothing fancy about them. But somehow, he knew she didn’t need fancy. She needed functional.
While he dug the moccasins out of the container, he whistled. Blue Eye was around here somewhere, and she knew to come when he called. Hopefully, though, she wouldn’t take her time. The sooner he got Dr. Madeline Mitchell back to her Jeep, the less trouble he’d get both of them in. He could only hope she wouldn’t freak out when he tried to get her on the horse. Every time he rode up to the clinic, he could tell she was praying Blue Eye wouldn’t barge back in. The saddle—where had he put his saddle? Trying to find that thing in the dark wasn’t going to help a damned thing.
“Is everything okay?” she called up the hill. She sounded worried. Nervous even.
That’s when he remembered Karen, who unfailingly related the unfortunate tale of Steinman every chance she got. She couldn’t know the coyotes never bothered him. “I’m coming right back down,” he called back as he slipped on his own mocs. And he whistled again. If that horse didn’t show up in two minutes, she wasn’t getting any carrots this week. End of story.
He was halfway down the hill when he heard it. That now-familiar sound—light and happy—filled the air. She was giggling. She didn’t giggle at the clinic, but today she’d been free and easy with amusement. She’d been so damn close to being free and easy with him.
He slammed the brakes on that train of thought. Blue balls and horseback riding did not mix. Besides, what the hell was she giggling at? Then he saw why. Blue Eye had come when called, and was snuffling Madeline’s hair. And Madeline was laughing.
Suddenly, after this whole day, he wasn’t sure he really knew her. “I didn’t think you liked her,” he said, making damn sure he didn’t push.
Madeline shot him the kind of look that made him wish he had a cold shower at the ready. “Correction. I don’t like her in the clinic. She’s really a beautiful paint. And whistle-trained? I’m impressed.” She waved her hand in front of Blue Eye’s blue eye, and Blue Eye’s head jerked. Madeline gasped, and then giggled again as Blue Eye nudged her. “I thought she was blind. I thought a blue eye was a blind eye.”
She sounded like a woman who knew which end of the horse was the front. “Not always,” he said, watching her feel along the muscles in Blue Eye’s neck with an air of knowledge. Hell, he half-expected her to pick up Blue Eye’s feet and check her confirmation.
“Do you ride?”
Her sly grin widened into a high-beam smile.
Oh, yeah, she rode. “How long?”
She looked at him through lowered lashes, and he was instantly aware that seduction was a two-way street, and she was currently behind the wheel. “I rode dressage for almost twenty years. Did quite well too.” Dressage. If he remembered correctly, that was that fancy English style—Anna had made him watch the Olympics once. The animals had been things of beauty, like ballet in motion. And she’d done that—for two decades? Wow. And then she made everything worse, in the best sort of way. “I’d love to ride with you.”
The shock stilled him. He knew he shouldn’t just stand there and stare at her, but damn it all, he couldn’t do anything but that. Nothing moved, not a single thing. He felt like he was about to fall into a vision.
But it wasn’t a vision. It was just a beautiful woman named Madeline, standing in the flickering light of his campfire, stroking the nose of his horse, ready to ride with him.
With him.
She shot him a look out of the corner of her eye, knowing and yet still coy. Shit. He had to get her out of here right now, before he decided he wanted her to stay forever. “I, uh—” he cleared his throat, “—made these. For you.” He held out the moccasins.
Her eyes widened in surprise. “For me?”
“Hope they fit,” he said as he sat her down on the stump, dusted the sand off her feet and slid them on.
They did. “Oh,” she breathed as she wiggled her toes. “I...don’t know what to say.”
“That may be a first.” But the sound of her breathless and pleased was doing a number on him again. She tried to swat at his shoulder, but he caught her and pulled her into another kiss.