Luke's Cut. Sarah McCarty

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СКАЧАТЬ terrain would deliver to her spine or how the raucous noise from her remaining hanging supplies would jar her nerves.

      She also hadn’t thought of how exposed to the elements she would be sitting on the hard seat or how much the wagon just...swayed. All the time. Back and forth. Lightly. Or more aggressively when the wheels hit a rock. Like now. Her teeth snapped together. She gave a fleeting thought to her equipment only to have it die under a wave of nausea. She swallowed hard. Her fingers twitched on the reins, but she knew they couldn’t stop. Zach and Luke set a pace that was, in her mind, brutal, but in their minds undoubtedly not fast enough. She’d already had to stop twice to relieve herself. Which had earned her a sympathetic glance from Tia, a frown from Zach and a glare from Luke. What did the man expect, for heaven’s sake? She was human, and a body could only take so much bouncing before something had to give. For her, it was her bladder.

      “You pull that horse up and Zach’s gonna leave you behind.”

      Josie didn’t have to wonder who’d ridden up on her left. It was Luke. It was always Luke today. The man seemed to hover outside her view, just waiting for some infraction so he could swoop in with a comment to discomfit her.

      “I wasn’t going to—”

      She looked up and that fast the thought left her head. How could the same sun that was wilting her seem to sink into his skin in a warm enticing glow? Or light his eyes from within so they looked as deep and full of possibilities as summer twilight. How could he look so incredibly, deliciously sexy leaning over with one arm propped on the saddle horn? A quirk of his lips drew her gaze down. He was laughing at her.

      With a flick of his fingers, he said, “There’s no sense in finishing that lie. You don’t do it worth a damn.”

      “Is that so?” It had to be the heat that had that challenge just popping out, but darn it, she was tired of people amusing themselves at her expense.

      “That’s so.”

      He didn’t have to sound so sure of it. She pretended there was a spot on her glove. With a little practice she was sure she could lie with the best of them. And darn it, there was a spot. With a sigh, she put her palm over it. And had no idea where to go from there. Silently, she willed him to ride on. Of course he didn’t. The man was perversely dedicated to annoying her. The seconds stretched uncomfortably on.

      Darn it again. He was still looking at her. She could feel it with that acute awareness that made her want to squirm. The squirming she resisted, but she couldn’t resist looking back, albeit out of the corner of her eye. He was sitting on Chico with that lazy confidence that only added to his appeal. Beneath the brim of his hat, his eyes were a dark, smoldering blue. And yes, he was studying her with the intensity of a professor who’d just discovered a new bug and was about to stick a pin in it.

      And that perverse part of her, the part her mother hated and she usually managed to subdue, came to life, running amok, poking at things best left sleeping until every one of her senses perked up with delight at being noticed. Stupid senses. The one thing she did not need was to be attracted to a cowboy. Especially this cowboy, who didn’t approve of her horse, her equipment or her profession. As a matter of fact, she wasn’t even sure he approved of her. More than likely, he saw her as a pain-in-the-butt distraction from whatever goal he’d set for himself. Aggravating man. She rubbed at the spot with her thumb.

      “It’s rude to stare,” she blurted.

      “I wasn’t staring.”

      Did he think she was stupid? “Then what were you doing?”

      “Thinking.”

      “About what?” She knew better but it just popped out again. Darn that perverse side.

      “I’m thinking that horse of yours is not too far away from buzzard food.”

      “You leave Glory alone.” The threat would have sounded much more intimidating if she could lift her gaze from the traces. Clearing her throat, she tried again. She got her eyes as high as Glory’s ears, but at least her voice was steady, if a bit too soft. “Not everyone has to be beautiful to be worthy.”

      She’d been clinging to that belief her whole life. It had gotten her through the rejection and scorn of being a bastard and a misfit. She wasn’t about to abandon it now, out here in the middle of nowhere with nothing but heat and annoyance to replace it.

      “Uh-huh. Well, I’m not too concerned about beautiful, but sound would be good.”

      “What makes you think Glory isn’t sound?”

      “Honey, I looked at his teeth at the first halt you called.”

      That halt seemed like a lifetime ago. She checked the watch pinned to the lapel of her sensible brown dress. It’d actually only been two hours.

      “So?”

      “That gelding is on his last legs.”

      As if he understood the disparagement, Glory’s head drooped. That was too much. Who did the man think he was?

      Turning, she glared at him, sexy smile and all. The big bully. “They’re darn good legs! No need to undermine them with your sarcasm.”

      She had the satisfaction of seeing him sit back in the saddle.

      “Undermine? How the he...heck could I undermine anything. It’s not like the horse can understand me.”

      “He most certainly can! He’s sensitive and has feelings, too, and I’ll thank you to remember that.”

      As if to emphasize that, Glory tossed his head, his jangling harness punctuating the sentiment.

      “See?” she asked pointedly.

      Luke looked anything but convinced. “He’s not going to spook again, is he?”

      “Not if you don’t do something stupid and scare him.”

      “Given what happened earlier, it clearly doesn’t take much.”

      “Anybody would be scared with those puppies snapping at their heels.”

      “They ran by!”

      “They were rambunctious!”

      “They were puppies!”

      She sighed. “He’s not used to them.”

      “My point exactly. He’s not used to a lot of things.”

      “Mr. Caine said it was all right.”

      “Mr. Caine?”

      She had to admit, it did sound silly. But she couldn’t help it. Caine Allen was too imposing to use so informal an address even though he’d asked her repeatedly to call him by his first name. So she’d settled on adding a mister. It was a happy medium.

      “He’s an impressive man.”

      “And I’m not?”

      She didn’t have to look up to know his head was tilted in that arrogant gesture that doubted the veracity СКАЧАТЬ