voice jerked him back to the present and he looked around to see she’d entered the cavernous barn. The sight of her was like a sudden ray of sunshine and at that moment he decided that today he wasn’t going to analyze or fret over his motives toward Maura. A man didn’t have to have a good reason to simply enjoy himself.
“Over here,” he called to her.
Spotting him, she walked to the middle of the wide alleyway and stood while he led the horses over to her.
As he drew near, she asked, “Have you been waiting on me?”
The smile on her face was bright and lovely and made Quint feel so unexpectedly happy that he could have waited on her for hours and not complained.
“Not really. I’ve just now finished saddling the horses. And Jake came by for a few minutes.”
“As I was driving in, I met a truck on the road,” she commented. “I thought you might have had company this morning.”
He grinned. “Jake isn’t company. He’s family.”
“Yes. We Donovans have family like that, too,” she said, then peered around his shoulder at the two horses. “Beautiful horses. Which one is mine?”
“The roan mare, Pearl. She’s very smart and very mannerly. So I think you’ll like her.”
“I’m sure I will.”
As she’d promised, she was dressed ruggedly in boots and blue jeans and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled back against her forearms. Her long hair was tied back from her face with a pale pink scarf and earrings made from polished cedar beads hung from her earlobes. Short of his mother, she was the only woman he knew that looked strong, yet utterly feminine at the same time, and in spite of himself he was totally drawn to her.
Using his head, he motioned toward the open doorway. “Shall we go? Do you have everything you’ll need with you?”
“I brought saddlebags packed with a few things. They’re just outside the barn door,” she told him.
Once they were outside, Quint tied Maura’s saddlebags onto the back of Pearl’s saddle.
“I thought we’d ride over to Chillicothe. That’s about five miles from here. Think you can go that far before we eat?”
She chuckled. “Shouldn’t you be asking if I can make it that far? Period?”
He turned to face her and Maura was completely taken with the easy smile on his face, the fetching dimple in his cheek.
“Sorry. I wasn’t thinking that you might not be hardened to riding. Can you make it that far?” he asked.
“I think so. If not, just tie me to the saddle and swat Pearl on the rump. The two of us will end up somewhere,” she joked.
“I wouldn’t think of putting Pearl through that sort of torture,” he teased back, then added in a serious tone, “Don’t worry. We’ll take a break or two before we get there.”
He handed her the mare’s reins and she took a few moments to let the horse get accustomed to her smell.
“So where or what is Chillicothe?”
“A ghost town. It was built back in the mid-eighteen hundreds, when the Golden Spur was thriving. The old mine is just a short distance away from the town. I thought you might enjoy looking it all over.”
“I’m sure I’ll love it.”
She led Pearl up a few steps, then lifted the reins over her head. As she put her foot in the stirrup, she felt Quint’s hands wrap around the sides of her waist. She wasn’t expecting him to help her into the saddle and she glanced around with surprise.
“Pearl isn’t that tall. I can manage,” she assured him.
“My father always helped a lady into the saddle. So just in case he’s watching I don’t want to disappoint him.”
With her toe still in the stirrup and her weight balanced on one boot, she paused long enough to allow her gaze to slide warmly over his face. “I’m very glad you invited me out today, Quint,” she said softly.
“I’m very glad you’re here,” he replied, his gaze locking onto hers.
Feeling suddenly quite breathless, she cleared her throat and turned back to the horse. Taking her cue, he helped her into the saddle. Once he was confident that she was in control, he moved away and mounted his horse, a big brown gelding with a stripe down his nose.
“Chillicothe is to the northwest. This way,” he said, motioning slightly to their left. “Not far from here, we’ll hit the old road that led to the town. It’s just a dim path now, but it makes for easy riding.”
“Sounds great.”
As they moved away from the barn, Maura swung Pearl alongside the big brown and the horses set out in an easy trot toward a pasture full of jumping choya. It was the time of summer for the plants to be in full bloom and the pink and yellow blossoms made for a pretty sight as they maneuvered their way through the prickly cacti.
“All of this area needs to be cleared away for pasture,” Quint told her. “That’s one of the things I’ll be doing now that most of the barn and outbuildings are nearly finished.”
“Oh, what a shame. The flowers are so beautiful.”
“Yes, but there would be triple the amount of grass without them.”
Maura cast him an impish look. “You’re a practical man, aren’t you? And not very much like Abe.”
“Oh, I can loosen up—when I need to,” he added.
She laughed. “Well, if you put a third less cattle on this particular range, then you could keep the flowers,” she suggested.
Normally, Quint would have been quick to shoot down such a suggestion, calling it ridiculous and wasteful. But something about the pleasure she was gleaning from the cactus roses made him happy, made him reconsider even the smallest things around him.
“I’ll think about that,” he said.
Halfway through the ride to Chillicothe, they stopped near a deep arroyo. A shallow amount of water covered the rocky bottom while desert willows and twisted juniper grew at precarious angles from its loamy banks.
They rode down into the mini canyon, then dismounted and led the horses to the water’s edge. The day had grown exceptionally warm and while the horses drank deeply, Quint shared his canteen with Maura.
Once the animals had their fill of water, they led them over to the bank and tethered the reins loosely around a willow limb.
After they were certain the horses were secured, Quint said, “I see a nice flat rock over there. Let’s sit a few minutes before we head on to Chillicothe.”
“Sounds good to me,” she agreed. “Right now my legs feel like two pieces of rubber.”
He offered his arm to her. “Here. You’d better hang on to me. Just in case you stumble.”
“Thanks.” She wrapped a hand around his forearm, then quickly moved her clutch higher toward his elbow. “This is your cut arm,” she explained. “I don’t want to injure it again.”
She could have torn the cut wide open again and Quint probably wouldn’t have noticed. Just having her touching him again, walking close by his side, her body brushing against his was enough to send his libido into overdrive.
“Was my grandfather okay with you being gone from Apache Wells today?” Quint asked as he helped her get seated on the big boulder.
Smiling contentedly, she stretched her legs out in front of her. “He was more than okay. He was very happy.”
He eased down beside her on the rock. “Hmmph. That’s not surprising,” he admitted. “Abe