The Ashtons: Jillian, Eli & Charlotte. Bronwyn Jameson

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ she commented on that symbol’s continued presence, and she didn’t now. She simply looked into her daughter’s eyes, rubbed her thumb along the gold band again, and said, “It’s the perfect time to forget past problems and concentrate on new beginnings, don’t you think?”

      Jillian felt herself tense. Oh, no, this was not about her, not in any sense.

      She started to shake her head, but Caroline blinked and her gaze shifted, as if distracted by something out of Jillian’s view. She pulled her hand away and pointed. “That will be your builder, stopping up by the stables.”

       Now why would he do that? Was he lost, despite her specific directions to meet at the winery?

      Jillian frowned as she gathered up her reins and urged Marsanne around.

      “He’s early. Now that’s a change for the—” The rest of the sentence died on her lips as she caught sight of the truck. Her mouth probably hung open for a second. Her pulse definitely jumped.

      “Is something the matter?” Caroline asked.

      “Absolutely nothing,” Jillian answered slowly. Except for the fact that Travis Carmody drove a weather-beaten red truck, and this one was a distinctive shade of blue.

      Her hands must have clenched with involuntary tension because beneath her Marsanne started to prance, her muscles bunching as if preparing for flight. Jillian settled deep in the saddle and soothed her in a low voice.

      “I think she’s keen for a last gallop home,” Caroline said. “Why don’t you go on ahead?” When Jillian demurred, she shooed her off. “Go on, Jillie. I’ll potter back at my own pace. If your builder finds the barn deserted, he might not hang around.”

      “Sorry, bud, I didn’t understand a word of that. I don’t speak horse.”

      Seth didn’t feel all that comfortable speaking to a horse either, but this particular horse seemed to expect a reply…although calling the short-legged equine a horse might be stretching things. Whatever, the animal had a real gift of gab. Not your usual horsey neigh or squeal—his pony-mad Rachel had mastered both, along with a credible mane toss—but an eloquent combination of sounds and facial expressions.

      A regular modern-day Mr. Ed, only shorter.

      Mini Ed’s ears pricked up, his attention shifting to the open doors at the end of the barn. Seth heard it then, the thud of hooves striking the ground in a deep rolling rhythm, and his body quickened with expectation.

      His companion whinnied and snorted. Seth managed not to, at least out loud.

      He strolled over to the doorway in time to see horse and rider loom into sight. He knew Jillian rode, that before marrying Jason she’d competed in three-day events, but he’d never seen her on horseback. And the five minutes he’d spent cooling his heels in the barn hadn’t nearly prepared him for the impact.

      Sure, he knew those mile-long legs would look spectacular wrapped around pretty much anything, including a huge gray horse. But he’d pictured her straight-backed and ladylike as she approached at a collected pace, not bent over the monster’s neck and thundering up the hill at full speed.

      Not out of control, he decided, although that didn’t stop his whole body tensing for the eight seconds it took her to steady and slow to a walk. Seth let his breath go on a long gust that mixed relief with a strange sense of discovery. This was a Jillian he hadn’t seen before, her face flushed with exhilaration, her eyes shimmering as they locked with his.

      So, the cool and prissy lady got off on speed. Who would have thought?

      “Nice morning for a ride,” he said pleasantly.

      “Nice?” One corner of her mouth quirked up. “Nice doesn’t do this sort of morning justice.”

      “Point taken,” Seth murmured as she reined the horse to a stop.

      When she swung her leg over and started to slide down, he moved in to catch her. After all, it was a long way to the ground. And somehow—despite his architect’s eye for perspective and measurement—he managed to misjudge the distance. Probably because he was distracted by the curves of her backside, clad in stretchy riding pants that fit like a second skin, coming right for him.

      His vision actually glazed over for a second. The next, his hands were on her hips and sliding to her waist as that tight little backside connected with his front side. Quick, accidental, over before the heat burned right through his pants.

      Yet the quick hitch of her breath, the instant tension in the lithe body beneath his hands, told him she’d felt something, too.

      Yeah, well, she had cause.

      Reluctantly he let her go, stepping back enough that she didn’t elbow him anywhere delicate when she started doing whatever had to be done with her saddle. It appeared to be quite a bit.

      “Need a hand?” he asked after several seconds of watching her tug and fuss with straps.

      “I can manage. And I’m actually quite competent at getting off my horse unassisted, too.”

      He made a note for future reference.

      “What are you doing here, Seth?” She glanced over her shoulder, her face prettily flushed. From the ride, Seth reminded himself, not from the impact of that sliding dismount. “I was expecting someone else.”

      “So I heard.”

      Her brows pinched together. “You heard that…where?”

      “From Eli.”

      “My brother called you?” she asked on a rising note of disbelief.

      “No, I called you this morning to see if you’d found a contractor. Eli answered. He said you were out riding and then he mentioned that Carmody was coming to quote.”

      He tried, but obviously didn’t succeed, in keeping his tone flat and free of condemnation. Her gaze narrowed a fraction as she turned around to face him. “And you don’t approve?”

      “You said you wanted the best. Carmody doesn’t come close.”

      “The best isn’t available. Travis Carmody is.” The clear green of her eyes deepened. “Unless that’s changed since Monday. Is that why you’re here, Seth?”

      “I’m here to save you from employing a substandard tradesman. Hell, Jillian, I offered to give recommendations. I would have helped you line up someone dependable.”

      “No one else is available. Not Terry Mancini or the Maine brothers or O’Hara. I tried them all. Travis is my last alternative.” She crossed her arms, sighed and met his eyes. “Exactly how bad is he, Seth?”

      “After I got off the phone to Eli, I jumped straight in my truck and drove out here. Before my first cup of coffee. What does that tell you?”

      “That bad, huh?”

      Her smile was game, but deep in her eyes Seth saw the gathering shadows of disenchantment. He almost caved, almost offered…anything, but then she unfolded her arms and broke eye contact. She studied her hands, and he СКАЧАТЬ