Rocky Mountain Rivals--A Western, enemies to lovers romance by Joanne Rock

Author:Joanne Rock
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2022-02-22T20:00:16+00:00

Eight

“Nimue, don’t you want your dinner?” Fleur coaxed the small black-and-white goat, the only one they hadn’t been able to capture.

Drake watched Fleur swing a bright blue pail to tempt the escapee, while the other two does inside the pen bleated and called, the yard partially lit by a couple of outdoor fixtures mounted to the barn. The brown-and-white Nubian—Morgan le Fay, he’d been informed—had returned to the enclosure as soon as Drake had herded her toward it. The larger of the black-and-white animals—Guinevere—had romped around the yard with more enthusiasm until she’d gotten distracted by a tasty patch of grass, and Fleur had been able to slip a lead around its neck.

Now only one holdout remained. He worked on securing the pen where a board along the top of the woven mesh fencing had given way, while Fleur pleaded with the last jail breaker. Considering how his evening had progressed with Fleur before the animals escaped, Drake was ready to tie up the goat adventure. He could have sworn they’d been moments away from locking lips when a blur of horns and fur had streaked past them.

“I’m surprised it never came to my attention that Antonia named her goats after Arthurian legends,” he observed as he hammered in a nail to fasten a replacement board into place. He’d been fortunate to find a stack of precut lumber inside the big barn and had made quick work of the job.

Another flash of lightning split the sky, illuminating Fleur’s face as she cooed at the unrepentant animal. Drake set aside the hammer and turned his attention to helping her since a storm was imminent. He knew he should leave considering how badly he wanted to stay and find out if that kiss would still happen. Yet how could he have left her to deal with the broken fence alone when she already thought poorly of him? With good reason.

He’d misjudged this woman more than once, and now he wanted to offer an olive branch of his own. He would help her tonight, and offer whatever advice she needed to help her settle the land management citations.

Now Nimue looked ready to play, her floppy ears swinging as she trotted around the birdbath in the center of the lawn. He retrieved the lead rope Fleur had used with Guinevere and moved closer to the goat as the thunder sounded more and more ominous.

The air smelled like rain.

“Gran didn’t have them for long. She rescued them two years ago from a shelter near Grand Junction.” Fleur took a handful of grain and extended it, her hair whipping around her head as the wind picked up force. “She texted me a photo of them later that week, telling me she liked the idea of names that were regal and magical for the spindly little trio, convinced it would give them something to aspire to.”

When the lightning lit up the sky again, Drake could see her smiling to herself at the memory. He only had a

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