Song of the West Read Free Page B

“I was . . . I was just getting some air.”
    â€œYes, ma’am.” He nodded in agreement, glancing behind her at the last, dying brilliance of sun as it slipped behind circling peaks. “Fine evening for setting out and watching the sunset.”
    Her eyes flashed at the teasing. She was embarrassed to have been caught sleeping. He smiled a slow, careless smile that crept unhurried across his face. The movement of his lips caused the hollows to deepen, the shadows to shift. Unable to resist, Samantha’s lips curved in response.
    â€œAll right, I confess. You caught me napping. I don’t suppose you’d believe I was just resting my eyes.”
    â€œNo, ma’am.” His answer was grave, with just a hint of apology.
    â€œWell.” She rose from her seat and was dismayed at how far she still had to look up to meet his eyes. “If you keep quiet about it, I’ll see to it that you get a piece of the apple pie I baked for dinner.”
    â€œThat’s a mighty tempting offer.” He considered it with a long-fingered hand reaching up to stroke his chin. “I’m partial to apple pie. Only one or two things I’m more partial to.” His eyes roamed over her in a thorough and intense study that caused her heart to pound with unaccustomed speed.
    There was something different about this man, she thought swiftly, something unique, a vitality at odds with lazy words and careless smiles. He pushed his hat back farther on his head, revealing more disorderly curls. “You’ve got yourself a deal.” He held out his hand to confirm the agreement, and she placed her small hand in his.
    â€œThanks.” The single word was breathless, as she found her speech hampered by the currents running up her arm. Abruptly, she pulled her hand away, wondering what it was about him that disturbed her equilibrium. “I’m sorry if I was short before, about Dan’s horse.” She spoke now in a rush, to conceal a reaction she could not understand.
    â€œNo need to apologize,” he assured her, and the new soft texture in his tone both warmed and unnerved her. “We’re all fond of Mrs. Lomax.”
    â€œYes, well, I . . .” she stammered, suddenly needing to put a safe distance between herself and this slow-talking man. “I’d better go inside. Dan must be hungry.” She looked past him and spotted his horse, still saddled, waiting patiently. “You didn’t stable your horse. Aren’t you finished for the day?” Hearing the concern in her own voice, she marveled at it. Really, she thought, annoyed, why should I care?
    â€œOh, yes, ma’am, I’m finished.” There was laughter in his voice now, but Samantha failed to notice. She began to study the mount with care.
    It was a magnificent animal, dark, gleaming chestnut, at least sixteen hands, she estimated, classic lines, fully flowing mane and proud, dished face. Arabian. Samantha knew horses and she recognized a full-blooded Arabian stallion when she saw one. What in the world . . . ? “That’s an Arabian.” Her words interrupted her thoughts.
    â€œYes, ma’am,” he agreed easily, entirely too easily. Her eyes narrowed with suspicion as she turned to him.
    â€œNo ranch hand is going to be riding around on a horse that’s worth six months’ pay.” She stared at him, and he returned the steady survey with a bland poker face. “Who are you?”
    â€œJake Tanner, ma’am.” The slow grin appeared again, widening, deepening, then settling as he lifted the brim of his hat at the introduction. “Pleased to meet you.”
    The land baron with the women at his feet, Samantha’s brain flashed. Anger darkened her eyes.
    â€œWhy didn’t you say so?”
    â€œJust did,” he pointed out.
    â€œOh.” She tossed back her thick fall of hair. “You know very well what I