The Rancher's Second Chance by Davalynn Spencer

Author:Davalynn Spencer
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2013-08-31T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

Five forty-five came quickly but not quietly, and Laura forced herself across the room to the alarm clock on the floor and into the bathroom. The insides of her thighs told her this morning run thing wasn’t such a great idea.

By five fifty-five she had driven down the lane and parked in a turnout just off the main road.

She leaned against the car, palms on the fender and stepped back, lunging on one leg and then the other. Her thigh muscles screamed in protest and she considered telling Mary she’d have to cancel.

A disgustingly cheerful “Good morning!” squelched the idea.

She looked up to see the woman a few yards away. Fresh and strong and healthy as an Olympic athlete. Laura wanted to throw up.

Mary slowed to a walk and stopped at the car, concern on her face. “You sore?”

“I went riding yesterday and I’m paying for it today.”

“O-oh.” Mary stretched out the word and shook her head. “That’ll get you every time. How long since you rode a horse.”

“Would you believe twelve years?”

“Ouch.” Mary cupped one elbow, and pulled her upper body around in a side twist. “How about if we walk today? Sound good to you?”

Embarrassed but grateful, Laura agreed. “You wouldn’t mind?”

“Not at all. Just so I’m moving.” She did a few side bends and flexed her knees one at a time. “Besides, you don’t want to do any serious damage. Walking will be good for you. Work out the pain.”

Laura struggled not to roll her eyes. “I hope so.”

“Tell you what. Let’s walk to my place and I’ll fix you a cup of my special tea blend for sore muscles.”

Laura glanced at her car. “Sure you wouldn’t rather ride?”

Mary laughed and pulled her long braid over her shoulder. “No. You need to walk. Come on.” She started out. “It’s not that far. About a half mile.”

Laura groaned inwardly but refused to wimp out on her neighbor’s kindness. “I’m right behind you.”

Mary shortened her stride as they took to the paved road. “How many horses do you have?”

“None. I went riding with Eli Hawthorne.”

“I’ve never met the man, but what a gorgeous place he has. I hear he was a marine. Injured in Afghanistan, if I remember.”

“Yeah. He lost an eye.” A sudden image of his steely-blue gaze flashed in her mind and she felt warm all over. “And his left foot and ankle.”

“Oh, my.” Mary looked at her feet. “I can’t imagine what he must go through.”

Laura smiled to herself. “He pretty much does everything he always did.”

Redwing blackbirds and larks sang in the new light, and as morning stretched across the meadows, the pain in Laura’s legs eased from a sharp burn to a dull ache. Mary had been right. Walking helped.

At the next bend in the road, a short lane cut off to the right and ended in a tangle of trees and shrubs. Laura hadn’t ventured this far north since her return, but she vaguely remembered a sprawling ranch-style home in this general vicinity.

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