But That Was Yesterday by KATHLEEN EAGLE

Author:KATHLEEN EAGLE
Language: ara, eng
Format: epub
Publisher: BelleBooks, Inc.
Published: 2015-05-21T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

THEY’D MADE A plan. Megan would pack a picnic lunch, and Sage would provide the beverages and transportation to the Badlands. She wasn’t one to fuss over food, especially in her little motel kitchenette, but she took extra care with this meal. No sandwiches on this picnic.

Sage had been waiting for her. He hailed her from the corral and hopped down from the railing when she pulled up. She parked, grabbed her little cooler, and met him halfway.

“Ready to ride?” He was looking her up and down. Maybe she’d overdone the look. She wore a yellow knit tank top, jeans, and a pair of cowboy boots that had been sitting in her closet for years. “You’ll be getting a good dose of sun today,” he warned.

“That’s exactly what I want.”

He looked good in his straw cowboy hat. The wheat color contrasted sharply with his black hair and brown skin, and the loose weave of the brim created a pattern of sunlight and shadow over his face. He wore a blue chambray shirt with the sleeves rolled nearly to his elbows, and his jeans fit his long legs and slim hips as though they’d been tailored for him.

He ushered her through the narrow corral gate. “How much riding have you done?”

“I used to ride a little with a friend who had horses, but I haven’t seen her since we were in college.”

“I’m going to put you on the sorrel so you won’t have to contend with mama’s baby.” He nodded toward the colt. “If she thinks he’s having trouble keeping up, she might get broncy.”

“Broncy?”

“She’ll start balking. She might even offer to crow-hop a little. That sorrel is a nice trail horse, though. I use him all the time. I’ve also got two young mares out in the pasture.” He gestured toward the hills. “They’re only green broke.”

The horses were saddled. Megan held the cooler up. “What’ll we do with this?”

“Transfer it to the saddlebags.” He took the cooler over to the sorrel’s side and began filling the canvas pouch strapped behind the cantle of the saddle. “The plastic ice should be good for a while. I’ve got the drinks on the other side.”

“I hope you like fried chicken.” She peeked into the drink side of the bag. “Do you think it’ll be okay in here?”

“If it’s fried, I think it’s past complaining.” She saw his grin above the horse’s rump. “I’m not going to let it sit too long. It smells great, and I’m hungry. Need any help getting up?”

“Oh, no, thanks. I’m a cowboy, too.” But she found the stirrups had already been shortened for her, and the sorrel stood taller than she’d realized. She soon had her leg twisted up like one of the chicken wings she’d fried, with only the tip of her toe in the stirrup. She was grasping for any leather within reach when she heard him chuckle close behind her.

“A short one.” His hands were on her waist. “And a hell of a contortionist.

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