The Man From High Mountain. Kay David

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      Now, watching Taylor rein Honey into a turn, her jeans stretching tight against the curve of her buttocks, her arms lifting gracefully, he realized once again what a beautiful woman she really was.

      And just how different their two worlds were.

      He touched Diego’s flank with his heel and set the horse into an unexpected trot, Lester beside him. Within minutes, Taylor had Honey cantering beside them. They spoke little over the next hour or so. Cole concentrated hard on making sure he was taking them the right way and not having thoughts he shouldn’t. Taylor was clearly concentrating on keeping Honey in line, the horse a gentle one but a handful for someone who was out of practice riding. From time to time, Cole glanced over at Taylor. She’d disappeared into another world, just as she had done earlier in the truck.

      By midafternoon, a steady, cold rain had begun to fall. Cole dug out slickers and tossed one to Taylor. She draped it over herself, the bright yellow coat covering her completely. An hour later, his hip screaming, Cole reined Diego to a halt and spoke over his shoulder. “There’s a cave about three-quarters of a mile up ahead. I think we need a break.”