by Jane Jamison
Curt chuckled then got behind her. “Grab hold of the saddle horn. That’s it. Now hold on good, lift your left leg, and put the ball of your foot in the stirrup. Good.”
“Now what?” She held on to the saddle horn with all her might. If Killer decided to take off, she’d get dragged along with him.
“Give a little hop and pull yourself up, swinging your leg over the saddle and your butt into the seat.”
I swear, if I fall on my ass…
Taking a big breath, she did as he’d instructed. Suddenly, she was sitting in the saddle. “Oh my God, I did it.” She still clutched the saddle horn. “But don’t you dare turn loose of the reins.”
“Don’t worry, baby. If Curt screws up, Dane and I’ll be here to save you.” Eric swung easily onto one of the other horses.
“Somehow that doesn’t make me feel any better,” she murmured.
“Sorry. I shouldn’t joke when you’re so nervous.”
How had he heard her? She was sure she’d whispered.
Dane positioned his hat squarely on his head then swung into the saddle of one of the remaining two horses. “Try taking Killer around in a circle in the yard. You’ll get the hang of it fast.”
“By myself?” Alarm pricked at the back of her neck.
“It’ll be all right.” Curt handed her the reins, showing her how to hold them in one hand while securing her grip with the other. “Easy. You don’t have to pull back on them unless you want him to stop. Otherwise, it’s just like steering a car. Pull the reins to the left to turn left and to the right to go right.”
“Just like steering a car. Got it.” Please, let me be okay.
Curt eyed her speculatively. “Are you all right? You look a little pale.”
“No, I’m fine,” she lied. “Just trying to let it all soak in.”
“Okay, then, I’ll mount up.” He paused until she nodded, then took the last horse and was in the saddle in one smooth move.
As much as she wanted to wipe her sweaty hands on her jeans, she wasn’t about to turn the reins loose. “How do I make him go? And at a walk, not a run.”
“Give him a little nudge with your heels to his ribs and make a clucking sound.” Dane eased his horse backward by tugging on the reins and keeping them taunt.
Here goes nothing. Or my neck. Or my life. Yeah, no biggie.
She hung onto the saddle horn with one hand and kept the reins securely in the other. Making a clucking sound, she gently brought her heels against Killer’s body. She almost let out a shout of victory when Killer started forward in an easy walk. “Oh my God, I’m riding.” She couldn’t hold back a smile as she dared to glance at the men. “I’m really riding.”
“You sure are.” Eric clucked and put his horse behind hers. “Now take him in a wide circle by steering with the reins.”
“Okay, Killer, let’s show them we know what we’re doing.” Even if I don’t.
Fifteen minutes later, she was trotting Killer around the yard. She grinned the entire time.
“Baby, how about we take them out for a real ride? I think Killer’s getting dizzy going around in circles.”
She tossed Eric a ha-ha look, and fought against a fresh wave of fear. “Okay. Lead the way. But be sure to hang close.”
“Sugar,” added Dane, “we’re not going anywhere.”
She studied his intense expression and sensed that he meant more than sticking close to her while riding. But she wouldn’t ask. No, she couldn’t ask. Instead, she clucked at Killer again as Dane pulled his horse alongside hers with Curt on the other side. Eric eased his horse alongside Curt’s, but kept in front by a few feet as he kept glancing her way.
After they’d left the yard and were in the middle of the pasture, Curt asked, “So? How do you like it so far?”
“I think I could really get into riding. Too bad I don’t own a horse.”
“You can always ride one of ours.” Dane pushed his hat back yet his face was still shadowed from the sun directly above them. “Of course, you know the rule about riding, don’t you?”
“No. What is it?”
“If you ride a horse, you have to take care of it. In fact, if you want, you can consider Killer yours.”
“Wow. You’re giving me a horse? So I can borrow him any time I like?”
“Nope. If you want him, he’s yours for keeps. Plus you can board him here.”
“That’s too generous.” What was he getting at? “I don’t mean to look a gift horse—literally—in the mouth, but something tells me you mean more than simply feeding and watering him.”
“I sure do. You’ve got to brush him down after the ride and let him cool off. Then every so often, you’ve got to muck out his stall.”
“Muck out his stall?” She cringed. “Are you talking about shoveling the manure out of his stall?”
“Yeah, that’s what I’m talking about. Why? Do you have a problem with a little shit?”
“No. I mean, yes.” She couldn’t imagine standing ankle-deep in horse manure. “On second thought, while I appreciate your generous offer, I think I’ll stick to cars.”
The men chuckled, taking her rejection the right way.
“Don’t listen to him, sugar. We’ll shovel all the shit for you. Consider Killer yours.”
“Dane’s right. Just look at the two of you. It’s like you were meant to be together,” added Eric.
Once again, she got the impression that he meant more than was at face value. Still, she bit her tongue, even though she was dying to ask.
They walked the horses for a while, then the men taught her how to “sit the saddle” when they took the horses into a trot. Riding both thrilled and terrified her.
The sun moved toward the western horizon, reminding her that she had to go to work later that evening. She should’ve asked them to turn around, to go back and eat lunch every time her stomach growled, but she was having too much fun to cut their riding time short.
She gazed over the land, loving the slow rise and fall of the hillside. The trees were in full form with their green leaves waving in the breeze. Being in the north part of Georgia meant she’d soon experience all the seasons, unlike in Los Angeles where she’d only known one season with weather that didn’t change much.
What would it be like to ride the horses when the leaves were falling? How wonderful would it be when the snowfall came? She took a quick glance at the men and wondered if she’d be given the chance to find out.
Suddenly, Killer let out a snort and lurched to the side. Her heart skyrocketed to her throat as her body shifted the opposite way his body did.
“Hold on, sugar,” called Dane.
Survival instinct kicked in as she gripped the saddle horn then jerked the reins back. Although the spooked Killer went into a sideways canter, she held on and soon managed to bring him under control.
She sucked in a breath as the horse continued to knicker and prance. “What happened?”
Her answer was a gunshot blast. Killer startled, but she was ready for him this time and quieted him as she turned him toward Curt.
Smoke drifted on the air above Curt’s rifle. Although she’d noticed the rifle case nestled against the side of his saddle, she’d been too preoccupied with learning how to ride to think much about it.
“That’s what happened.” Curt used the rifle to gesture to a bare area on the ground not far from him. A snake, its head obliterated by the bullet, lay in a sidewinding pattern as though killed in mid-motion.
“A snake scared Killer?”
“It did.” Dane studied her with frank appraisal and admiration. “You handled your horse just right. Are you sure you haven’t ridden before?”
His praise was enough to send warmth through her, but that warmth was no match for the heat between her legs. Was it friction from riding? Or, more likely, lust?
“Never.” She stared at the snake, judging its length to be around five feet. “But I handle a lot of things well.”
“I’ll bet.
”
She blinked, tearing her attention away from the dead snake to meet Curt’s gaze. Did he think she’d meant more by what she’d said? Even if she hadn’t meant to do so, had she sent them a veiled message? Or was she reading more into it than there was?
“I wish you hadn’t killed him.”
“Why not?” Curt rested the rifle in the crook of his arm.
“Because he deserves to live like all of us do. Every creature deserves to live.”
For a moment, she was afraid they’d laugh at her. Yet their silence told her that maybe, just maybe, they agreed.
“Every creature?” asked Eric.
“Of course. Why would one creature, one being, deserve to live more than another?” She hoped she wouldn’t sound like a fool, but she really believed what she was telling them. “Maybe it sounds silly, but I think all life is precious, from a snake’s life to a man’s.”
“What if people consider the creature to be more like a monster?”
“A monster, Dane? Like thinking all snakes are predators and somehow bad just because of what they are?”
“Not exactly.”
If not, then what was he getting at? “Do you mean like a Frankenstein monster?”
“Sort of.” Curt dropped his gaze to the snake then brought it back to her. “I don’t know. Like a werewolf or vampire. You know. A real, live monster.”
“Wow. We’re really getting out there, aren’t we?” Was he serious? Judging by his expression, he was. “Sure, I guess. Vampires and shape-shifters are supposed to be people, right? Why wouldn’t they have the right to live? Unless, of course, they’re running around killing other people.”
“Would they have the right to love, too?” Dane’s tone was drop-dead serious. Calm, yet intense.
“Every soul has the right to love and be loved.” They had to be joking, right? “Didn’t you learn anything from the movies? The werewolf always falls in love with the beautiful woman.”
Curt’s mood lightened. “Yeah. You’re right. Unless he gets plugged full of silver bullets first.”
Unsure of how to respond, she opted to change the subject. “Maybe we should head back now. It’s gotten so late, I probably won’t have time for lunch.”
“Aw, shit, sugar. We didn’t mean to keep you out so long.”
“No, no, Dane.” She met his dark eyes and saw the amber there again. “I loved this.”
“Then you’ll have to come back soon. Real soon.”
She hated to leave. “Maybe I could stay a little while longer if we hurry.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear.” Curt returned the rifle to its holster. “If you’re okay with it, boss, we’ll put the horses into a trot and get back fast. If you think you can handle it.”
His smirk was cocky and sexy as hell. “Yeah. Like I said, I can handle a lot of things.” Giving Killer a good nudge, she took him into a quick trot, heading back the way they’d come.
* * * *
An hour later, Krystal was stuffed full. “When you invited me for a meal, I didn’t know you were going to fatten me up like a pig for slaughter.” She let out a long whistle. “But damn, it was good. Which one of you is the cook? Or should I call you a chef?”
“Hold up, boss.” Curt leaned back in his chair, balancing on the back legs. “It’s nice of you to say and all, but we don’t want Dane getting a big head.”
“Yeah,” added Eric, “all he did was throw some things together.”
She surveyed what was left of the generous spread. From the moment she’d walked into their home and had seen the comfortable furnishings along with photos of their family on the wall—or were the photos of all their families?—she’d felt right at home. Now, after a scrumptious home-cooked meal any woman of the South would be proud of, she was even more at ease.
At least, as at ease as she could ever be around three better-than-chocolate men. She was full, all right, but she had plenty of room for them to fill her up in an entirely different way.
“I like to cook.” Dane placed a cover over what was left of a juicy glazed ham. “And it’s nice to have someone here who appreciates all the work I go through to put good food on the table.”
“Simmer down, Betty Crocker. We never said we didn’t appreciate you cooking all the time,” joked Curt.
Dane chuckled. “Like I said. I like to cook. Now, how about some apple pie?”
“I swear, brother, you’re starting to sound more like a girl every day,” quipped Eric.
She wasn’t about to get in the middle of their argument, even if it was all in good fun. Although she should’ve passed on the pie, she couldn’t resist. “I’d love a piece.”
“Coming up, sugar.” Dane strode into the kitchen to grab the pieces of pie already on plates.
She studied the golden-brown crust and the delicious aroma of apples, sugar, and cinnamon. “This smells amazing. I’ve already gained five pounds just sniffing it.”
“Dig in, baby. We like a woman with a hearty appetite.” Eric gave her a once-over. “You don’t have to worry about your weight. You’re perfect the way you are.”
An apple pie and a man telling her she wasn’t fat was her dream come true. Or at least, one of her dreams. She dug in, putting the first delectable bite in her mouth. “Oh, fuck a duck that’s amazing.”
“Fuck a duck?” Curt grinned.
She pressed her fingers over her mouth, swallowed, and then answered. “Sorry. I’m not always the most ladylike girl around. I wasn’t raised with Southern manners.”
“Don’t worry about it. You just be yourself. Still, it’s funny to hear you use that expression.”
“Why, Curt?” She forked in another bite. If she was at home alone, she’d lick the plate once she’d finished.
“Because our mother used to say the same thing.” A sadness filled Dane’s eyes. “And trust me, she was the epitome of a genteel Southern lady.”
“So she’s no longer with you?”
“No. She passed on when Eric and I were just kids.”
“And your father?”
“We haven’t heard from him in years. When he wasn’t able to become an alpha—” Dane stopped abruptly.
“An alpha?” She glanced at the other two men who had suddenly become overly interested in poking their forks into their pieces.
“Never mind. It’s a long, boring story. He never was a big part of our lives and he never will be.”
She wanted to ask more, but it was easy to see in the stiffness that had come over Dane that he wasn’t open to answering any other questions about his father. She’d try a different approach to get to know them. “Have you three lived in Fate long?”
Curt took over when it was obvious that Dane had clammed up. “These two were born here, but I was born in Alabama. When I turned sixteen, I got it into my head that I was an adult and didn’t want to listen to either one of my folks.”
She smiled. “Wow. Imagine that. A teenager not wanting to listen to his parents.”
“Yeah, well, my folks weren’t getting along and I was tired of all the fights. Anyway, I hot-footed it to Fate and asked to move in. Their mother—may she rest in peace—took me in and treated me like I was her own.”
“Which was both a good thing and a bad thing.” Eric chuckled. “She didn’t hold back letting him know when he screwed up just like she did with us. Damn, I sure miss her.”
“We all do,” added Dane in a soft voice.
“What about you, boss? Where do you come from?”
“I came to Fate by way of Los Angeles.”
“Yeah. I remember Raven Reynolds saying something about that.”
She almost dropped her fork. “You talked about me with Raven Reynolds, Eric?”
He paused, thrown by her surprise. “Sure. You do know we live in a small town, right? Everyone in a small town talks about everyone else, especially about the new folks.”
“So Raven knows who I am?”
The men chuckled, but it was Dane w
ho answered. “Sure she does. I’m pretty sure almost everyone does by now.”
“Don’t let Raven or her friends intimidate you. They’re very friendly just like most folks around here,” added Curt.
“I’m sure they are. It’s just that she and her friends seem so…” She searched for the right word. “…quiet. Closed-up.”
“They’ve all been through some tough times recently. Just walk up and introduce yourself sometime, boss.”
“Okay. I’ll do that.” She made a promise she would. No more letting her nerves get in the way.
“Go on. So you came here from the City of Angels?” Eric leaned forward, his eyes glittering, encouraging her to keep talking. “Is that where you grew up?”
“Nope. I was born and raised in a little town like this called Root’s End in Indiana. Instead of ranches with horses and cattle, there were mostly farms with wheat and other crops. It was pretty boring.”
“What were you doing in Los Angeles?” asked Curt.
Had she opened up too much? She couldn’t tell them the truth. Not yet. Maybe not ever. “Oh, you know. I did the usual small town girl goes to Hollywood to be a star thing.”
“And ended up being a bartender?”
She couldn’t meet Eric’s gaze, not with telling them a half-truth. “Well, it’s obvious that I didn’t become a star.” Her laugh was strained. “Anyway, I got fed up with all the crowds and the perfect weather and decided to find another small town where I could start over. I remembered a friend of mine talking about having driven through Fate and wondering who the hell would ever live there.”
“So you moved here? After being bored to death in your hometown?”
She averted her gaze from Curt’s curious one this time. Were they catching on? “I sure did. But I’m grown up now and I like it here.” She glanced up at the old round, metal clock on the kitchen wall. “I hate to call an end to the fun, but I should get going.”
The men got to their feet along with her. Suddenly, she felt shy as the tall, handsome men surrounded her. As a waitress in a strip joint, she’d garnered a lot of attention, but it had never been the good kind of attention. The attention these men gave her was definitely the good kind. The kind she’d like to enjoy for the rest of her life.
