The Texan's One-Night Standoff. Charlene Sands

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      “Okay, so the blanket has to be even and protecting the horse from the saddle.” Next this petite five-foot-something of a woman positioned the heavy saddle on her knee. “Put the stirrups and straps over the saddle seat so you don’t hit the horse or yourself by accident when you’re saddling up. Now use your leg for support and then knee it up in a whipping motion like this.” With the grace of a ballerina, she heaved the weighty saddle onto the horse’s back. “You want the saddle up a little high on the shoulders first, then slowly go with the grain of the horse’s hair to slide it into place. This way you won’t cause any ruffle to the hair that might irritate the horse later on. Proper saddling should cause your mount no harm at all. Doing it wrong can cause all kinds of sores and injuries.”

      “Got it.”

      Ruby gave Misty several loving pats on the shoulder. She spoke kindly to the animal, as one would to a friend, and the horse stood stock-still while she continued with a ritual she probably did every day.

      Ruby adjusted the front cinch strap. “Make sure it’s not too loose or too tight. Just keep tucking until you run out of latigo. Take a look at how I did this one and you do the back one.”

      “Okay, will do.” He made a good attempt at fastening the cinch, Ruby standing next to him. His concentration scattered as she brushed up against him to fix the cinch and buckle it.

      “Not bad, Brooks. For your first try.”

      Her praise flattered him. And her sweet scent filtering up to his nose blocked out the stable smells.

      “Now that Misty is saddled, you want to make sure all buckles are locked in and all your gear is in good shape. Here’s a trick. Slide your hand under the saddle up front.” She placed her small hand under the blanket and saddle. “If your hand goes under with no forcing, you’re good to go and you know your horse isn’t being pinched tight. Isn’t that right, Misty?”

      As she stroked Misty’s nose, the horse responded with a turn of her head. The two were old pals, it seemed. Ruby’s big brown eyes lifted to him. “If you want some pointers on riding, I’ve got some time.”

      Mentally he winced. He had trouble focusing. He kept thinking about Ruby in his bed. Ruby naked. Ruby making love to him. Feisty, fierce Ruby. He should back away and make an excuse. Gain some perspective. But she was offering him something he needed.

      Just like last night.

      “Yeah, show me what you’ve got.”

      She stared at him for a beat of a second, her face coloring again. They were locked into the memory of last night, when she’d shown him what she had. And it was not to be equaled. “Stop saying stuff like that, Brooks. And we’ll do just fine.”

      It was good to know that she wasn’t as unaffected as she wanted him to believe.

      “Right. All I can promise is I’ll try.”

      * * *

      Once Brooks was away from the stable and on horseback, Ruby could breathe again. She’d never expected her one-time, one-night fling to end up being Beau Preston’s long-lost son. The irony in that was killing her.

      “You’re not a bad rider, Brooks,” she said to him.

      “I’ll take that as a compliment.” He tipped the hat she’d given him to wear. He didn’t look half bad in a Stetson.

      “Actually, you learn fast. You saddled up my horse pretty darn well.”

      “If you’re trying to butter me up, it’s working, honey.”

      “Just speaking the truth. And can you quit the endearments?”

      He smiled. “You don’t like me calling you honey?”

      “I’m not your honey, Brooks. Ruby Lopez never has been anyone’s honey.” Except for Trace’s at one time, but the sweetness of the term had soured along with the relationship.

      They rode side by side along a path that wound around the property. She wanted out of this conversation. Brooks didn’t need to know about her lack of a love life. But for some reason, when he was around, she did and said things she normally wouldn’t.

      “Ruby?”

      “Hmm.”

      “I find that hard to believe. There’s been no one in your life?”

      “No one I care to talk about.”

      “Ah, I thought so. You’ve been burned before. The guy must be a loser.”

      “He isn’t.” Why on earth was she defending Trace?

      “Must be, if he hurt you.”

      “Remember what I told you? When you want the horse to stop, pull back on one rein. Not two. Two can toss you forward, and that’s a fight you can’t win.”

      “Yeah, I remember, but why—”

      “See you later, Brooks!” Ruby gave Storm Cloud a nudge, and the horse fell into a gallop. The ground rumbled underneath her stallion’s hooves, and she leaned back and enjoyed the ride, grinning.

      She thought she’d left Misty and her rider in the dust, but one quick look back showed her she was wrong. Brooks wasn’t far behind, encouraging Misty to catch up. Ruby had five lengths on them, at best. But it wasn’t a race. She couldn’t put Brooks in danger. For all his courage and eagerness to learn, he was still a novice. “Whoa, slow up, Cloud.” A slight tug on the rein was all that was needed. Cloud was a gem at voice commands. Beau had given her Storm Cloud on her eighteenth birthday, and she’d trained him herself. They were simpatico.

      Brooks caught up to her by a copse of trees and came to a halt. “Is that your way of changing the subject?” His mouth was in a twist.

      She shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t know what you mean.”

      “Cute, Ruby.”

      “Hey, I’m impressed you caught up.”

      “Because you let me.”

      “Okay, I let you. But I couldn’t endanger Beau’s long-lost son.”

      “One of his sons. I’ve got a twin brother.”

      “Oh, no. There are two of you?” She smiled at him. This morning Beau had briefed her on all the sad events of his early life. He’d lost the woman he loved and his twins when she ran away from her abusive father. It was something Ruby had heard rumored, but it was never really spoken about in the Preston household.

      “Yeah, I’m afraid so.”

      She tilted her head. “Can the world handle it?”

      “The world likes the Newport brothers for the most part. But the question is, can you handle it?”

      “I already told you, I’m good with you being here.”

      “I might be staying quite a while.”

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