His Only Weakness by Felicia Breneé

Author:Felicia Breneé [Breneé, Felicia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-10-14T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Brady jogged to catch up with Heather. “Wait. You can’t.”

“Why not. I do this for a living. You need me.”

“Yeah, sure. But—” He rubbed the back of his neck. Her jaw was set. She would not be swayed. “Okay. Follow me to my place. We’ll load up the horses and head out past Eight Mile Road. Search, Rescue, and Recover has set up a base camp along the river.”

“Fine.” She leapt into her Mini-Copper and turned over the engine.

Brady shook his head as he climbed into his truck. “This is a big mistake!”

He led the way out of Colorado Springs to Highway 115 south to his land. He backed the truck up to the trailer and jumped out to connect the hitch. Ignoring where she parked or what she did once she got out of her car, he pulled the trailer closer to the barn.

He whistled for two reasons— To call his dog and alert the horses they were needed.

Hudson came loping out of the house and ran directly to Heather. Brady cringed, imagining Hudson knocking her down. He darted his eyes toward her to find Hudson circling her legs and Heather laughing.

“Traitor!” Brady muttered and dashed into the barn. He tossed two saddle blankets over his shoulders, lifted two saddles and walked to the corral door. “Dick! Li’l Dove!”

Heads down, they still grazed in the pasture. He whistled a pattern meant only for the horses.

Their heads rose simultaneously. Li’l Dove leapt forward. Dick responded with the mare, trotting behind her straight to Brady.

“You named your horse Dick?” Heather stepped up behind him.

He started. He’d practically forgotten she was there, even though he was preparing to saddle two horses. It was his custom to do this alone for so long, it felt odd to have another person waiting to ride with him. Especially Heather. It was like having the ghost from Christmas past standing in his barn. Mentally he shook off the déjà vu.

How often had he wished—

He glanced over his shoulder at her. A shrug and a sharp inhale seemed like an appropriate response. The horses halted inches from Brady’s feet. He reached up and took Li’l Dove’s harness. “Hold her will ya?”

Heather complied. He pulled his horse into the barn by his reins and looped the leather through an iron ring to keep him out of the way. Maybe he should explain. “He’s a gelding. I thought it appropriate to give him back what he missed the most, with the name.”

Heather giggled. “You’re something else.”

A stone slammed into his gut. She didn’t say anything about the mare’s name. He didn’t think twice about calling her Heather’s pet name. Until now. Brady frowned. So much for the guise that he’d put the past behind him.

Brady saddled the mare, leaned back, measured Heather’s legs by sight, and adjusted the stirrups. “There, that ought to be right.”

“Thank you.” She said but her brow questioned his ability to measure so accurately. She put her foot in the stirrup and swung up into the saddle.

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