Cowboy on Call by Leigh Riker

Author:Leigh Riker
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2017-11-23T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

OLIVIA TOOK A deep breath. If what she thought about Sawyer was true, she didn’t want to step on his heart. He had enough on his mind without feeling guilty for that just-missed-the-mark kiss. And he had been good to her son.

So the next morning, after she’d dealt with her email at the store, then sold a gorgeous eighteenth-century walnut armoire that would cover her overhead for the whole week—with a profit—she drove out to the Circle H again. Without Nick. He wouldn’t be happy that she’d left him behind with Deirdre, but she had to do this. She didn’t like loose ends.

And she didn’t want a boyish audience.

The ranch yard looked deserted. A horse whinnied a greeting from the nearby corral where Nick had ridden the day before, but she didn’t see anyone. None of Sam’s cowhands nor Sawyer seemed to be around.

Half-grateful for more time to rehearse what she’d say, Olivia walked into the barn, stopping to greet Sundance, Ginger and a few others in their stalls. Sam and his crew must be out on the range.

The end stall belonged to Cyclone. The black colt stood at the window that overlooked the corral. When he heard Olivia, he turned his head, his dark eyes taking her in before he shambled over to the bars for a better look. Olivia almost gasped, delighted as Nick had been with Hero.

After Jasmine’s death, she’d given up competing, even riding for pleasure, and she hadn’t been on a horse in years. Despite the few warnings she’d heard, Cyclone had calm eyes, a liquid brown without the whites showing. A good sign, she thought.

“Hey there, boy. You lonely?” she almost whispered, not wanting to spook him. Olivia moved closer. She was an experienced rider and could tell a good horse from a bad one. Taking her time, she reached out a hand. The colt whickered, as if in greeting—

“Are you trying to get killed?” Sawyer had emerged from the tack room at the other end of the aisle.

Olivia eased back, then turned to face him. “I grew up at Wilson Cattle. I’m sure I’d know if this colt means me any harm.” She added, “He doesn’t.”

“Then you and Sam agree. I still think he shows promise.”

Still, he’d said as if he’d recently changed his mind. “Give me some credit, then. I’m not a greenhorn, Sawyer.”

With slightly rumpled hair, he wore a denim shirt that made his blue eyes more blue, worn jeans and shabby brown boots. Then Olivia saw his arm. His sleeves were rolled up, and a long, angry abrasion ran from his elbow to his strong wrist. He had the arms of a working cowboy still.

“What happened?”

Sawyer rubbed the back of his neck. He studied the ground. “I had a...difference of opinion with Sam yesterday.” He glanced toward the black colt. “I took Cyclone out to the corral, lunged him for a while, trying to get his kinks out. And mine. Then, when I was bringing him back

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