“He burst out of that gate, all strength and poise and agility. Not showing an ounce of fear as he launched himself off his horse and at that steer. Flipping three-hundred pounds of animal into submission in the dirt like it was nothin’. Then he calmly stood up and checked his time. For some reason he spun my direction and saw me hanging on the railing, my jaw practically dragging on the ground from shock.
“He brushed the dirt from his jeans as he moseyed toward me. The whole time he kept coming at me, taking those slowly measured steps; his eyes never left my face. It was like I was the only one in the arena. Like I was the only one in the world. And then I knew.”
“That you loved him?”
She smiled again, but it was wistful, slightly sad. “That came later, but not much later. No. I knew then that quiet power and understated grace were the true measure of a good man, not the size of his belt buckle or his intentions.”
“What happened?”
“He stopped in front of me. He reached out and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. Then he ran his rough fingers down the line of my jaw. It was the first time he’d ever touched me. So softly, yet, so…confidently. Like he knew just what I needed. He said, ‘Gemma Mae, don’t you think it’s time you quit foolin’ yourself and come on home with me where you belong?’”
Tears pricked Channing’s eyes and she swallowed hard.
“I went home with him that night and never looked back.”
“Omigod. I think I’m gonna cry. That is the most beautiful, romantic story I’ve ever heard.”
“Yeah, it is. Come to think of it, you’re the first person I’ve ever told that to.”
“Now I’m really gonna start bawling.”
“Well, you can understand why I’ve been a little reluctant to bring another man into my life and into my bed.” She grinned saucily. “Especially when gentleman Steve Jansen had moves between the sheets, in the barn, on the kitchen table and anywhere else the mood struck him that’d probably give your Colby a run for his money for inventiveness. The last thing Steve ever was, in or out of bed, was boring. God, he was good. With one look he could heat me up like fire and melt me like butter.”
“I’m sorry that’s he’s gone, Gemma.”
“Me too. Not only do I miss Steve every goddamn day, I miss that daily physical connection. I miss sex. But when you’ve had twenty-five years of bust-the-bed-frame-scream-out-loud-raw-and-sweet-and-raunchy sex, I’m afraid anything else would be a letdown. But what I wouldn’t give for a second chance to have it again.”
Channing wasn’t the least bit embarrassed by Gemma’s brutal honesty. The answering silence between them wasn’t clumsy, just thoughtful.
The grass crunched behind them and Gemma craned her neck.
Cash Big Crow stepped around the heap of beer cans and leaned his shoulder into the side of the horse trailer. “Evenin’, ladies.”
“Cash, were you using your Indian stealth again to sneak up on us and listen to our private conversation?” Gemma demanded.
“Gemma!” Channing said, appalled.
Cash didn’t smile. In fact, he had the oddest expression on his face. He didn’t look at Channing either, but at Gemma, even as he addressed his comments to Channing. “Don’t mind Gem. She knows I wouldn’t show her my secret Indian tricks unless she asked me nice. Real nice.”
“Keep dreaming,” Gemma said.
He chuckled. “I will. Channing, I tracked you down to tell you Colby is lookin’ for you. You want me to walk you back?”
“No, that’s fine. I can find my way.” She stood and stretched. “Thanks for the beer and the girl talk, Gemma.”
“Anytime. See you bright and early, right?”
“Right. I’ll be here with bells on.”
“Have a good night. Ride ’em hard, girl.”
Channing snickered and gave Gemma a high five.
Cash cocked his head and looked from Channing to Gemma. “I’m afraid to ask what that meant.”
“You should be.” Gemma sailed to her feet. “Then again, it’s more of a ‘hands-on’ thing anyway.”
“Yeah? Well, luckily I ain’t got nowhere to be right now. You could demonstrate by puttin’ your hands on me all you want.”
Gemma laughed, a trifle nervously.
Cash took another step closer and frowned. He lifted his hand and rubbed his fingertips across Gemma’s forehead. Gently. Three times.
“What are you doing?”
“You got a smudge of dirt right there, and a piece of grass stuck in your hair. You been rollin’ around in the hay?”