Hitched to the Horseman. Stella Bagwell

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СКАЧАТЬ been the last thing on her mind when he’d planted that sizzling lock on her lips. But pure sex was all it had been, she told herself. And she wasn’t planning on letting it happen again. Not if she could help it.

      Trying to shake the memory away, she said firmly, “I want to be productive, Mother. Useful. I want to feel as though I’m where I’m supposed to be.”

      Clearly concerned with her daughter’s attitude, Geraldine left the chair and came to stand in front of Mercedes. “Honey, I know with your training in intelligence you could easily get a job most anywhere you wanted. You’d be making good money—not that you need it, but you’d have it to fall back on if, God forbid, the ranch ever slid into a losing hole. But I’m not all that sure that throwing yourself into a government job is what you really need at this time in your life.”

      Not bothering to hide her unsettled thoughts, Mercedes held her palms up in a helpless gesture. “I’m not sure it’s what I need, either. But what am I supposed to do, Mother? I’m not the idle type. And I can’t simply chase cows from morning ’til night.”

      And she sure as heck wasn’t going to work with the horses and face Gabe Trevino every day, Mercedes thought. Her peace of mind would be torn to shreds.

      “There’s more to do around here than chase cows! Ask your brother. Ask your cousin Matt. They work themselves to the ground every day to keep this place in the black. Maybe it’s time someone else in the family offered to step up to the plate and do their part!”

      Mercedes was cut to the quick by her mother’s retort, and she couldn’t utter one word in reply. Instead, she rose from the bed and brushed past Geraldine. At one end of the room, rows of wide wooden shelves held souvenirs and mementos from her past. A 4-H trophy for best heifer at the state fair. Another for horsemanship. A rhinestone tiara from when she’d won Miss Junior Rodeo for Goliad County. A pair of scarred ballet slippers. A sheet of music she’d played in a piano recital. A dried rose taken from her father’s coffin.

      There were many more bits and pieces of her life scattered across the shelves and as she gazed at them, she tried to rein in her exploding emotions. Her parents had given her a wonderful childhood and opened doors to any path she’d wanted to take. These years she’d been away, she’d not stopped to think that her family might be expecting her to eventually give back to the ranch. Instead, she’d been selfishly focused on her own career.

      “If you’re trying to make me feel guilty, Mother, then you’ve certainly succeeded,” she murmured hoarsely.

      Mercedes had hardly gotten the words out when she felt her mother’s hands on her shoulders, gently pulling her around.

      “Mercedes!” she scolded softly. “I’m not trying to make you feel guilty. I’m sorry if I did. But I am trying to jar you. To wake you up out of this foggy sleep you’ve been in ever since you left the Sandbur.”

      Pressing her lips to a firm line, Mercedes swung her head back and forth. Eight years ago, shortly after she’d learned the truth about John, she’d met an Air Force recruiter on campus. He’d made the idea of serving her country and acquiring a new career sound exciting and challenging, just what she’d needed to take her mind off the miserable mistakes she’d made. Initially, she supposed she had used the military as a way to get away from campus and the Sandbur. She’d had her fill of her family watching her with sympathy and treating her as though she had an illness instead of a broken heart. But once she’d gotten through basic training at Lackland Air Force Base, her whole attitude toward her enlistment had taken on a different meaning. Now, her service as an airman was important to her and was something she was definitely proud of. The past eight years had shaped and strengthened her. She wanted her mother and the rest of her family to see that she could bear up under any pressure.

      “I’ve hardly been living in a coma,” she muttered.

      Geraldine rolled her eyes. “Okay, maybe I should have said you’ve been hiding in your job. You loved being on Diego Garcia because the tiny island was totally away from the rest of the world. Away from the rest of us regular folks doing the mundane task of living. I actually think if you’d been given the choice, you would have stayed there forever.”

      Her mother’s mistaken assumptions fueled Mercedes’s temper. If she’d wanted to stay, as her mother had so bluntly suggested, she could have reenlisted. More than that, she could have easily continued to make the Air Force her career. But her heart had been crying out to come home. It had been longing for more than simply going through each day carrying out her duties as an airman. She’d thought her mother understood, but apparently she didn’t. Mercedes couldn’t stop herself from raising her voice, “And what the hell do you think I was doing there? Drinking margaritas and strumming a guitar beneath a palm tree?”

      Temper sparked in Geraldine’s eyes. “Your job. While conveniently forgetting the rest of your life.”

      Mercedes stared at her, aghast that their conversation had escalated into such a verbal war. Over the years, the two of them had argued before, but this time Geraldine’s barbed words stung her worse than ever.

      Mercedes was wondering what to say, or if she should even make any sort of retort, when her mother solved the problem by turning and walking out of the room.

      Her eyes stinging with tears, Mercedes went over to the closet and pulled out her favorite pair of old cowboy boots. She had to get out of the house. She needed to see the ranch and remember why it had pulled her back to Texas in the first place.

      Later that afternoon, Gabe stepped out of the horse barn carrying a saddle on his shoulder when the sound of cantering hoofbeats caught his attention. He looked around to see Mercedes and her mount flying toward the ranch yard. Dust boiled behind the blue roan as she steered him toward a nearby corral, then skidded the animal to a stop a nose-length away from the board fence.

      His jaw slack, Gabe watched her leap from the saddle and land on the ground like an agile cat. Coming from a ranching background, he’d expected Mercedes to be able to ride, but not like Annie Oakley! Was there anything the woman couldn’t do?

      He walked over to one of the wranglers working in the yearling pen. “Hey, James, is that Mouse that Ms. Saddler is riding?” he asked.

      The young cowboy glanced up from the rope halter he was trying to untangle and stared across the pen to where Mercedes was now slowly leading the horse around in a large circle.

      “Yep, that’s him. She took off on him this mornin’ sometime before lunch.”

      Gabe silently cursed. The horse was definitely a beauty, with a blue roan coat and flax mane and tail. Part Thoroughbred, he was long and tall, as well as fast, nervous and totally unpredictable. Mouse still needed hours more training to be trustworthy for any rider, including himself.

      “Did you catch him for her?”

      “Nope.” Glancing around at Gabe, the cowboy shook his head with a bit of admiration. “She picked him out of the remuda we’d rounded up for today’s work and roped him herself.”

      Gabe stared at the ranch hand. Plenty of Texas women knew their way around a horse, but not many he knew could handle a rope, especially a loop that was tossed backward to keep the line from tightening and choking the animal. “She roped Mouse?”

      “That’s what I said. She threw one of the prettiest houlihans I’d ever seen before. Surprised the heck out of me. I mean, she’s the boss’s daughter, but she looks so delicate. I figured she’d always had her mounts saddled СКАЧАТЬ