“So you think I was right to turn down Kyle’s proposal?”
“Only you can be the judge of that, dear. But if you want my advice, I can offer you three things that life has taught me—wait for as long as it takes, don’t settle for less than real love, and when it comes to you, don’t close the door.”
They had reached the ranch yard. Erin let Rose off at the duplex and drove around to the shed to unload the tools. From the far side of the yard, she could hear Luke’s intermittent hammering.
Sooner or later she would have to talk to him, if only about the horses. The longer she waited, the more uncomfortable the silence between them would become. He would want to know what she’d learned in town. She would have questions about his work. It was time she ended the awkward standoff between them.
She put the tools on the rack, closed the shed, and parked the station wagon next to the house. Climbing out, she hesitated a moment. He could still be angry with her. He could rebuff her with cutting words, as he had the young girl who’d been told to go play with her dolls. Or he could simply turn his powerful back and ignore her.
But he was her father’s employee, and hers, Erin reminded herself. She was the one in charge—although being in charge of Luke was like being in charge of a wild stallion.
Taking a moment, she went inside the house, hung the car keys on their hook by the door, and found a bottle of Corona in the fridge.
With her pulse racing, and the ice cold bottle dripping condensation, she set off across the yard.
CHAPTER TEN
ERIN FOUND LUKE UNDER THE OPEN SHED, SHOEING A YOUNG GRAY gelding. She stood by the fence watching, waiting for him to look up and notice her.
He’d taken off his chambray work shirt and tossed it over the fence. Perspiration beaded his face and streamed down his arms and torso. His skin gleamed like polished bronze, the light casting every muscle into sculpted relief. He was beautiful, Erin thought, if that word could be applied to a gruff, masculine loner like Luke. Maybe rugged would be more appropriate, or even majestic.
For a few minutes he seemed totally intent on his work. Only when he shifted his position from the gelding’s front hoof to the back did he glance up and see her. “Hi,” he said.
“Hi.” Heart pounding, Erin held up the beer. “I brought you a peace offering.”
He grinned, showing a slightly chipped tooth in front. “Hang on to it while I finish shoeing this pretty boy. He won’t take kindly to standing still while I drink it.”
“Fine, but I can’t promise it’ll be cold.” Erin felt the tension easing between them. Maybe they could even be friends again.
“That’s okay, as long as it’s wet.”
“Take your time—I’ve got an idea.” An empty metal pail stood next to the gate. Erin carried it to the outside tap by the barn, filled it with cold water, and lowered the bottle of Corona into it. When he finished shoeing the horse, the beer would still be cold.
“So, how did your visit to the sheriff go?” he asked, talking while he worked.
“Not great. The deputy pretty much convinced me that Jasper was robbed by somebody who came along after the so-called accident.”
“You say pretty much?” He used a small hammer to nail the shoe to the outer layer of the hoof, keeping clear of the sensitive inner part. “Does that mean you still have your doubts?”
“Some, I guess. But there’s not much I can do about it.”
“You can be careful. Trust your instincts. If you sense danger out there, assume you could be right.” He finished clipping the nail points on the last hoof and released the gelding with a gentle slap on its haunch. “Time for a break. I’ll take that beer now.”
He came out of the pen, closed the gate behind him, and reached for the beer in her hand. After popping open the lid, he took a long, slow drink. When he lowered it, the bottle was half empty. With his free hand, he picked up the pail by the handle. “Just what I need, a nice, cold shower. Want to do the honors?”
“What? You want me to dump it on you?”
Laughter glinted in his dark eyes. “That, or hold the beer while I do it myself.”
“Here.” Erin took the pail from his hand, raised it as high as she could, and upended it over his head.
He laughed, shivering as the cold water cascaded down his body. Droplets clung to the mat of black hair on his chest, the sun turning them to tiny rainbows. His nipples had shrunk to hard nubs. Looking at him, Erin felt a subtle clench, like a tightening fist, deep in her body. Her close-up experience with men was limited, but her instincts told her she was on the path to trouble.
He raked back his dripping hair, finished the beer, and dropped the bottle into the pail, which Erin had set on the ground. “Thanks, I feel like a new man,” he said.
“You’re welcome. I was afraid you were mad at me.” As soon as the words came out, Erin wanted to bite them back. She sounded like a fool.
“Mad at you?” One dark eyebrow slid upward. “What for?”