Montana Miracle by Mary Anne Wilson

Author:Mary Anne Wilson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2013-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

“Horses, huh?” Kate heard herself say a bit idiotically.

“Yes, that’s what they are, and this is a stable,” Mac murmured as he moved down the aisle, glancing in each stall as he went. “And they need fresh hay. I’ve done some of the stalls. There’s just a couple more to do.”

She went after him, all the way to the end of the aisle into a large storage space with straw and hay stacked on two walls, sacks of feed on the back wall, along with an array of tools. Mac crossed to the nearest bale of straw, grabbed the bindings and turned, holding it in both hands as he came back toward her. “Since you’re here, could you grab a hay fork over there?” he asked as he motioned with his head to the tools.

“Sure, no problem,” she said to his back. A hay fork? She went closer to the assortment of tools and found three that looked like forks. Any of them could stab hay, she figured.

“Got that fork?” Mac called.

“Uh…yeah,” she said, taking all three of the tools back with her. She saw Mac moving a huge black horse from a stall on one side to the stall right across from it. He stopped in the middle of the aisle to look at her over the back of the beast. “I just needed the fork,” he said.

“Of course,” she said, putting the three down by the open door of the stall the horse had just vacated. “I just brought an assortment for you.”

Mac put the horse into the other stall, closed the door, then came over to Kate. He reached around her, brushing against her in the process. The not unpleasant smell of hay and horses clung to him. “Didn’t know what it was, did you?” he said as he grabbed the closest tool and stood to face her with just inches separating them. He was holding the thing that looked most like a fork. “This is a hay fork.”

“Or course, I knew that,” she muttered.

“Sure you did,” he said, then went into the empty stall. He took off his jacket, hung it on a peg by the door along with his hat, then grabbed the fork and plunged it into the messy straw. He flipped a forkful into a large wheelbarrow in one corner, and when it was full, he turned to Kate. “There’s an old saying on a ranch. If you come inside to look, you have to work. You can’t just watch someone else work.”

“You just made that up, didn’t you,” she said.

That brought a smile to his face. “Yes, I did, but I didn’t think that someone who didn’t know what a hay fork was would know that.”

“I brought it, didn’t I?”

“Sure, along with a pitchfork and an old garden rake.”

“I thought you might need the other things.”

He gripped the wheelbarrow and started toward the door of the stall. He pushed it to the back of the stables. “If you are going to stay for a bit, open that bale of straw.

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