High Country Baby. Joanna Sims

the saddle tolerable. But, even after a full week in the saddle, she was still raw and sore by the time she dismounted at the spot Clint selected for their campsite. They had fallen into a campsite routine—Clint had his duties and she had hers. Part of her job at the bank was putting together teams that could complete a project efficiently and effectively. She had a knack for putting two unlikely people together to create a winning team. It was like that with Clint—they were very different, but somehow they worked together to accomplish a common goal as if they had worked together for years.

      “We’ve got some storm clouds formin’ quick.” Clint took his hat off, wiped his forehead on his sleeve. “You’d best wait on that bath.”

      “Is dinner a no-go, too?”

      “I gotta be quick.” Clint eyed the darkening sky in the distance. “You got the fire?”

      “Absolutely.”

      Clint headed off on foot toward the freshwater lake he had fished from over the years.

      “Hey—Clint.”

      He turned to look at his companion.

      “What happens if it rains?”

      It was an odd question.

      “We get wet.”

      Taylor laughed. “No. I mean—you don’t have a tent.”

      “Don’t need one.” Clint shrugged off her concern. “Go on and get that fire started and I’ll cook you the best damn tastin’ fish you’ve ever had in your life.”