The Horseman's Bride by Marilyn Pappano

Author:Marilyn Pappano [Pappano, Marilyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-4592-5910-2
Publisher: Harlequin Enterprises
Published: 2011-07-01T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7

Wednesday night’s storm had amounted to nothing—a flash or two of lightning, a few sprinkles of rain and a lot of wind that had blown in, rattled things around, then blown out again. Thursday was bright, sunny and hot. Easy watched TV, took a nap, read a book, fixed both breakfast and lunch and cleaned up each time, and still had endless hours to go before Shay might return. He wanted her here—and was glad she was gone. He wanted to kiss her again and wished he never had.

He wanted to make love to her but didn’t know if he could. If he should.

No, that wasn’t true. He knew for damn sure he shouldn’t. He’d never deserved her, had never been good enough for her, but that was even more true now. She needed someone to love, to share her life, to give her a family. Not someone trapped way out here by his own fears. She needed someone who would take her out, dance with her, spend time with her family and friends, help her in the café when necessary.

She needed someone who could lead a normal life, and that put him out of the running.

Impossibly bored, he shut off the TV and went onto the porch. He’d been up ten hours, and only one car, the mailman, had passed by on the road out front. Neighbors were scarce out here, which made the chances for company even scarcer. Not that he was looking for any—at least, none besides Shay.

She hadn’t said she would come back this evening. If she didn’t, he would drive into town, which would probably be better for her anyway. He didn’t like her driving home alone at night, while he was most comfortable in the night. Plus, she had to get up early for work, while he was free to sleep until noon. Hell, for all the demands on his time, he could sleep around the clock.

For the first time in years, he’d had enough sleep.

He descended the steps, got his hat from the truck, then started walking. He had no destination in mind. He just wanted to go somewhere, to be somewhere besides there. Following the driveway, he counted his progress by sections of broken fence. By the time he reached the road, he’d counted eleven, and he’d uncovered a faint desire, buried deep inside, to fix them, to see the fence the way it had always looked before. He wanted to see the pastures filled with grass, not overgrown with weeds, and the barn standing straight and the yard as neat as his mother had once kept it.

Hell, he wanted his dream, with a few important omissions—no horses, no kids, no Shay. But without them, what was the point?

He looked down the empty road to the right, where it ran a half mile before disappearing into trees and hills. To the left it ran straight, too, almost all the way to Shay’s little house—and to the left, it wasn’t empty.

The three riders stayed together, though one’s mount was capable of leaving the other two in the dust.

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