Texas Forever (The Tylers of Texas 6)

ERIN LISTENED AS THE MOTORCYCLE’S DISTANT THRUM FADED INTO silence. “Whoever that was, I hope they’re gone for good.”

Luke listened a few seconds longer, then nodded. “With luck, we scared them off. Come on, you need to get back to the house before your boyfriend gets word that you’ve been sneaking around in the dark with the hired help.”

She spun around to face him. “Stop it! What is it with you, Luke Maddox? This isn’t the eighteen hundreds. I’m nineteen years old, a grown woman and, technically, your boss. Why do you have to be so damned”—she searched for the right word—“so damned proper?”

His expression was unreadable in the dark. But Erin sensed that she might have pushed him too far. Taking a half step backward, she stumbled into a low spot on the uneven ground. The slight drop threw her off-balance. Too late to save herself, she went down hard on her rump.

Not hurt but stunned, she glared up at Luke. “Go ahead and laugh,” she muttered.

“I wouldn’t dare.”

She took the hand he offered, feeling its rock-hard power as he pulled her up. He held on long enough to help her regain her balance, then let her go. “Are you all right?” he asked.

Standing, she felt her left ankle twinge when she put weight on it, but that would pass. “I’ll be fine,” she said. “Let’s go.”

She moved out ahead of him, but her ankle was still hurting. She forced herself to look calm, trying not to show the pain that shot up her leg with each step. But she couldn’t hide her injury from Luke. After a moment, he stopped her. “Don’t be a martyr,” he said. “Here. Just until we get out of this pasture.”

In a single, deft move, he swept her off her feet, lifting her as if she were no heavier than a child. His chest was a solid wall of muscle, his breathing effortless. This was a man who worked with heavy iron tools, hammering steel shoes into shape and nailing them onto the hooves of massive animals that could easily crush him. Carrying a woman would be nothing for him.

As he strode down the slope toward the east fence, he seemed unaffected by her closeness. But where her head rested against his thin shirt, she could hear the galloping cadence of his heart. The awareness of his powerful body, its heat, its pungent, masculine aroma, flowed through her like a current of delicious little sparks. When she breathed, she inhaled him into her body, a sensation that she found strangely intoxicating.

Was he aware of what she was feeling? He said nothing, but Erin was aware of a building tension in him, as if he could hardly wait to put her down.

They were two-thirds of the way to the fence when he cleared his throat and spoke into the stillness.

“About that question you asked,” he said.

“What question?” She’d all but forgotten.

“The one about my being so proper, as you put it. I’d like to answer it.”

She waited, her silence implying consent.

“Proper isn’t the word I’d use,” he said. “It’s more like being cautious, like an animal that’s been burned is cautious of fire. I’m older than you are, and I’ve been around long enough to know that work and women don’t mix. A couple of years ago I lost a good job and almost got myself arrested because a rancher’s sixteen-year-old

daughter wanted to get too friendly. After I told her to go play with her dolls, she told her dad some lies about me. I managed to talk my way out of her accusations, but it made me more cautious than ever. If a client thinks I’m coming on to his daughter, or, God forbid, his wife, I may do an excellent job with the horses, but I’ll never work for him or his friends again.”

“I hear you,” Erin said. “But I’m not just my father’s daughter. The horses on the Rimrock are my responsibility. I’m your client. Tomorrow I’ll be working as your boss. If I don’t want to bother with a chaperone, that’s my decision. But I can promise you one thing—whatever takes place between you and me will be strictly business. Understand?”

“Got it.” They had reached the fence. Lifting her over, he set her down on the other side, then ducked through the rails. When she put weight on her ankle, it hurt, but it felt better than earlier. A minor sprain, Erin decided. She’d be all right.

The security light had turned off. It came on again as a white Camry swung into the yard. That would be Beau’s family, returning from their pizza night in town.

“I can make it to the house,” Erin said. “No need to help me.”

“You’re sure? It’s a long way to walk when you’re hurting,” Luke said. “I can at least offer you an arm.”

“But then we’d have to explain ourselves, wouldn’t we?” Erin said. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

Steeling herself against the pain, Erin set out toward the house. She didn’t look back, but her instincts told her that Luke was watching, and that he wouldn’t turn and go until she’d reached the safety of the porch. She didn’t know the man well, but she was already sure of that much.

Beau had parked the car below the porch and was helping his wife and daughter up the steps. For a moment Erin weighed the idea of telling Beau about the mysterious intruder and the boot print she’d seen. Beau was a lawman. He might be able to give her some advice. But no, she decided. Her story would involve too much explaining. And the last thing she wanted to do was lay more worry on her father’s overburdened shoulders. For now, she would keep the incident between herself and Luke.

By the time she reached the porch, Beau’s family had gone into the house without noticing her. Her ankle was throbbing, but she’d had her share of injuries before. She would wrap it with an elastic bandage and be all right in the morning.

Pausing on the top step, she turned in the direction of the paddock and waved her hand in an okay sign. From the darkness by the corral, beyond the reach of the security light, she caught the answering blink of a flashlight.

* * *