LOVE OF A RODEO MAN (MODERN DAY COWBOYS) Read Free

it was described in the textbooks: smooth, efficient, rapid, professional.
    Dirty, noisy and stinking.
    Exhausting, filthy work.
    But their eyes would meet over the top of a struggling, squealing hog, and one of Mitch’s thick eyebrows would lift in a wordless query.
    Sara would cross her eyes and shrug.
    What the hell are two nice people like us doing in a place like this?
    She’d meet his green gaze and grin, aware that mud was now smeared across most of her face or that half her hair was flopping down her neck.
    Incredibly enough, a giddy kind of wordless rapport blossomed and flourished between them as the afternoon progressed, a closeness tha t might have taken weeks to develop under ordinary circumstances, or might never have developed at all.
    Several times, some grotesque or utterly ridiculous action on the part of the pigs would start Sara giggling, and she’d watch in fascination as Mitch’s hard mouth widened and softened, just the way s he knew it would when he smiled. Then they’d have to pause in the middle of the noise and heat and stand helplessly amidst the squalling bodies milling around them, bent over with hysterical laughter until control returned.
    And at last, it was done. The number of labeled vials of blood exactly matched the tatto oed numbers on the animals. Sara held a triumphant thumb high in the air and pointed at the gate.
    Mitch made her a chivalrous bow, and then like maniacs they bolted for freedom, one trying to outdo the other in their stumbling race for the gate, impeded by the pigs and the sloppy fit of the gum boots.
    Mitch got there first, but he turned back to clear a path among several milling bodies, and then they were outside the pen.
    “This way,” he called, leading the way over to a tap with a hose attached. “Let’s wash these damn outfits off so you can at least handle them to put them in the truck.” Twisting it on, he turned the nozzle on Sara, washing away the worst of the muck from her coverall and mischievously sending spurts of water into her hair and down her neck in the process.
    But the cold water felt wonderful, and Sara held her hands in the stream and tipped her face up to the sky to let the drops cascade over her skin.
    It was a childlike gesture that made something inside of him feel tender and warm.
    Then she did the same for Mitch, carefully avoiding the hat still pulled low on his forehead.
    “There’s a rough shower down at the barn, with towels and soap, if you want to use it,” he suggested as they wrestled their way out of the rubber suits a few moments later.
    “I feel as if I’ll never get the stink off me,” she moaned.
    The thin T-shirt and jeans Sara had on under the coverall were literally soaked with sweat, glued uncomfortably to her body, and she thought longingly of the clean ones she always kept in the truck. A shower would be heavenly, refreshing before she started the long drive back to the clinic. “I’d love it. But what about you, don’t you want a shower, too?” The moment the words were out, she blushed crimson as a Montana sunset. Would he think that was an invitation?
    “I mean, don’t you want to use it first?” she stammered.
    His lopsided grin came and went along with a teasing glint in his eyes. “Tell you what. I’ll give you the first fifteen minutes in there, but I warn you, after that I’m coming in. Oh, and while you’re in the shower, I’ll go up to the house and tell Mom you’re staying for supper.”
    Sara was shaking her hea d negatively before he was finished speaking.
    “I couldn’t possibly do that, Mitch. It’s not fair to your mom, and also my family are expecting me home.”
    He frowned. It had never occurred to him that she might be married. He tried to remember exactly what his father had said about her that morning.
    “What family?” he demanded bluntly, noticing again how the sweat-dampened clothing outlined her tall, strong body. She had wide shoulders and lovely full breasts, a