Star Bright

  “I love babies. Working with the foals might be fun.”

  “They are cute,” he agreed. “And earnin’ their trust is rewardin’, with the double benefit that you know you’re savin’ ’em a lot of heartache on down the road.”

  “How is that?”

  “An imprinted horse is easy to work with and seldom requires a twitch or rough handlin’ to control ’em. They’re as gentle as lapdogs, and not much of anything spooks ’em.”

  “What’s a twitch?” she couldn’t resist asking.

  “There are several different kinds. One is a stick with a rope or chain loop on the end. You fit the loop over the horse’s nose and twist the stick until it grows uncomfortably tight. Another kind is a clamp that’s inserted in the horse’s nostrils. Supposedly the horse is so focused on the discomfort of the twitch that it barely notices what you’re doin’. The truth, in my opinion, is that it hurts so bad, the horse is afraid to move.”

  “That’s terrible.”

  He inclined his head in agreement. “That’s why we Harrigans imprint all our horses. We don’t like havin’ to restrain our animals. It’s much better for us, not to mention the horse, if they’re imprinted.”

  “Now I know where Parker got his love of equines.”

  “From me, no doubt about it. Horses are my passion.” His eyes lit with amusement. “And Dee Dee, too, of course.” He finished off his coffee and took the cup to the other room. When he returned, he tipped his hat to her in farewell. “You’ll do, Rainie. You’ll do nicely.”

  Rainie stared at the closed door for several seconds after he left. She would do? She felt as if she’d just passed some kind of test.

  During lunch, Parker invited Rainie to go horseback riding with him that afternoon. She glanced down at her skirt.

  “I can’t go riding in this.”

  “You’re wearin’ boots, and I took the liberty of borrowin’ a pair of Sam’s jeans and a hat for you to wear.”

  Rainie hadn’t yet met Samantha. “What if they don’t fit?”

  “They’ll fit.” He gave her a measuring look. “I’ve got an expert eye. You’re about her height and the same width in the beam.”

  Rainie realized that he’d been looking at her posterior. Heat rushed to her cheeks. “I’ve never ridden a horse.”

  “I got a sweetheart picked out for ya. Come on. Say yes. I promise you’ll have fun.”

  Rainie unwrapped her hamburger and took a bite. “I’m not so sure about that.”

  “Trust me.”

  In that moment when Rainie met his gaze, she had a feeling that he was asking for far more from her than was apparent on the surface. A taut silence fell between them. Trust. To him, it was such a simple thing.

  “I’m not a very trusting soul,” she quipped, trying to keep the mood light.

  “I know,” he said, his voice suddenly gravelly and low-pitched. “Trust me, honey. I swear you’ll never have reason to regret it.”

  The bite of hamburger in Rainie’s mouth went dry and sticky. She struggled to swallow and nearly choked. Grabbing for her soft drink, she finally managed to wash it down. “Are we just talking about a horseback ride?” she asked.

  “For now,” he replied softly.

  “For now? I don’t understand.”

  “ ‘Life’s a dance. You learn as you go.’ ” His mouth tipped into a winsome grin. “You ever hear that song?”

  Rainie shook her head.

  “It’s one of my favorites. Life truly is like a dance, you know. Sometimes you get to lead, and sometimes you have to follow. We’re all just learnin’ as we go. And you know what else? You have to show up for the dance in order to hear the music.”

  Rainie felt as if she’d just waded out into deep water with stones in her pockets.

  “Dance with me?” he invited softly. “Just turn loose, Rainie mine, and go with the music.”

  Rainie could see no correlation between horseback riding and dancing, but she ended up accepting the invitation, anyway. She found it nearly impossible to tell Parker Harrigan no.

  The horse he’d chosen for her was named Barcelona, after the famous city in Spain. While helping Rainie to mount up, Parker explained that he called the mare Lona, for short.

  “Lona,” Rainie repeated, softly stroking the mare’s chestnut mane. “She’s beautiful, Parker.” Oddly, Rainie didn’t feel afraid to be so far off the ground. “I think she likes me.”

  “What’s not to like?”

  “Lots of things.”

  “Name me one.”

  “I’m cranky in the morning until I’ve had my coffee.”

  He grinned up at her. “I’ll remember that.” He stroked the mare’s nose. “Lona here is surefooted, steadfast, and almost impossible to spook. Came up on a rattlesnake when I was ridin’ her once, and she never even flinched.”

  “Really?” Rainie ran her hand along the mare’s silky neck. “How did you teach her not to be afraid?”

  “I crinkled cellophane around her all the time when she was a baby. It mimics the sound of a rattler, so the noise doesn’t worry her. She stood rock still, allowin’ me to shoot the dad-blamed thing from the saddle.”

  Until that moment, Rainie hadn’t noticed the holster that rode Parker’s hip. “You’re carrying a gun?”

  “I never go into the woods without one. Don’t usually need it, but it’s best to be prepared.”

  “We’re going into the woods?” Rainie had grown up in densely populated California and had been raised by a computer nerd who’d considered a visit to the Los Angeles Zoo to be a wilderness experience. “I thought we’d be riding around here.”

  “Nope. There’s a great ridin’ trail just across the road.” He glanced up at her, a question mirrored in his dark eyes. “You nervous about goin’ into the woods?”

  “I haven’t ever been.”

  “You haven’t ever been where?”

  “In the woods.”

  He stared at her as if she’d just grown an extra head. “You’re jokin’.”

  “No, I’m not. I grew up in California—in the city. My dad wasn’t into camping or hiking.”

  His lean, sun-burnished cheek creased in a slow smile. “Come dance with me.”

  Rainie rolled her eyes. “If a big animal eats me, it’ll be your fault.”

  He patted the gun at his hip. “I’m packin’. If any big animals come around, I’ll scare ’em away.”

  Twenty minutes later, Rainie was deep in a forest for the first time in her life, and she absolutely loved it. Parker was right: If you listened, there truly was music. The wind whispered in the tall pines like the mournful voices of lost souls. Birdsong drifted on the air. On both sides of the trail, insects whirred in the grass. In the distance, she heard water rushing. And, oh, how she enjoyed the smells—pine, the musk of decomposing needles, the scent of summer grass, and the perfume of wildflowers. She felt as if she’d stepped through a hidden portal into a whole new world. The steady clop of the horses’ hooves lulled her senses. The constant motion massaged the tension from her shoulders. In all her life, she’d never experienced the simple pleasure of being alive in quite this way.

  After about an hour, Parker stopped at the edge of a grassy meadow, unstrapped a blanket from the back of his saddle, and came to help her dismount.

  “Why are we stopping?” she asked.

  “For one, I don’t want you gettin’ saddle sore,” he explained. “And for two, no horseback ride is complete without some cloud watchin’.”

  He left the horses’ reins dangling, which he explained was called ground tying. The equines began grazing even before he spread the blanket. Rainie watched as he stretched out on his back, his Stetson resting on his chest. He gazed solemnly at the sky for a long moment and then patted the empty place on the blanket beside him.

  “Come on, darlin’, you’re missin’ it.”

  “Missing what?”

  “All kinds of things.”

  Rainie was suspicious of hi
s motives. What if he made a move on her? But when she lay down beside him, he didn’t even look at her. Instead he directed her gaze to a cloud that was drifting by. “See the old man?”

  She stared hard at the cloud formation for a moment, and then she finally saw him—a godlike figure in flowing robes with long hair and a curly beard. She laughed in delight. Next he pointed out a misty lake surrounded by forested mountains.

  “I’ve never done this,” she confessed.

  “What did you do for fun?” he asked.

  “Lots of things, but never this. I mean, well, everyone looks at the sky sometimes. I used to sunbathe by the pool, and I must have then. But I never looked for shapes in the clouds.”

  “See the horse?”

  Rainie frowned in concentration. “No.”

  “Look harder. It’s there.”

  She continued to stare but saw nothing. “I can’t see him.”

  “Blank out.”

  “What?”

  “Sometimes if you look too hard, you can’t see things. Kind of like in real life when you can’t come up with a solution to a problem until you stop worryin’ about it. Just let your mind go. Maybe then you’ll see it.”

  Rainie did as he said, and then she saw the horse, a beautiful stallion, rearing up on his hind legs. “See the lamb?” she asked, excited to have found a shape before he did.

  “Where?”

  “There.” She pointed, and now it was his turn to frown. Finally his mouth tipped into a grin. “Ah, there it is.” He chuckled. “Even has a tail.”

  They fell silent for several minutes, both of them watching the sky. Rainie was so relaxed she began to feel sleepy. “This is awesome, Parker. Thank you so much for bringing me.”

  “I’m glad you’re enjoyin’ yourself. The last woman I took cloud watchin’ bitched the whole time about bugs.”

  “Bugs?”

  “Ants. I never saw ’em, but she swore they were crawlin’ all over her.”

  An odd, clutching sensation filled Rainie’s chest. She wanted this to be something special that he’d never shared with anyone else. Stupid, stupid. He was thirty-five years old. There were undoubtedly very few things that he hadn’t done with other women. And what on earth had come over her that she would feel such a crazy yearning? She was coming to value Parker as a friend, but anything more than that was out of the question for her.

  “What?” he asked softly, as if he sensed her change of mood.

  “Nothing.” She tried for a light note in her voice. “I was just thinking.”

  “About what?”

  “Nothing,” she said again.

  He fell quiet, and she thought he meant to let it drop. But then he surprised her by saying, “She was nobody special, Rainie. There’s never been anyone special for me.”

  Rainie considered bluffing her way past the moment by pretending she couldn’t care less if there had ever been someone special in his life, but the truth was, she did care. As alarming as that realization was to her, she couldn’t resist turning her head to meet his steady gaze. “Never?”

  “Never once.” Turning slightly onto his side, he lifted a hand to brush the hair back from her face, his thumb lightly tracing the curve of her cheekbone. “Until now.”

  She thought he might say something more, but he seemed to think better of it. That was as frustrating for her as reaching the end of a book to find the last page missing.

  “There’s never been anyone special for me, either,” she heard herself say, wondering even as she uttered the words if she’d lost her mind.

  “Not even What’s-his-name?”

  She smiled. She’d asked him not to say Peter’s name, and he was honoring the request. “Especially not What’s-his-name.”

  He resumed his former position to stare at the sky. Her heart was thumping wildly, and it was suddenly difficult for her to breathe. As insane as she knew it was, she didn’t want him to resume cloud watching. She yearned for him to say something more, only she couldn’t think what.

  “I got stew in the Crock-Pot,” he said softly. “I’m not much of a cook, but I can make halfway decent stew.” He angled a questioning glance at her. “If I say pretty please, will you stay for supper?”

  A thick, choking sensation filled Rainie’s throat. “Where are we going with this, Parker?”

  He arched a jet eyebrow, his eyes alight with teasing mischief. “Damned if I know. I figure it’s your turn to lead.”

  “From the first, I made it clear that our relationship must remain purely professional.”

  He chuckled. “Fine. Will you stay over to be my professional stew taster?”

  Rainie knew she should say no. It was the only smart choice to make. She was still married to Peter. She had no business starting to feel this way about another man. And yet she did. Somehow the emotions had just sneaked up on her. “No funny business?”

  His chuckle became a deep, rich laugh. He held up his hands in a gesture of innocence. “No funny business. We’re only friends. Remember?”

  Rainie got that sinking sensation again, but somehow she couldn’t stop herself from wading in deeper. “All right. I’d love to stay for supper.”

  He smiled smugly. Seeing that, she almost changed her mind, but he distracted her by pointing out another cloud shape.

  Rainie had seen only Parker’s kitchen, so it was with some curiosity that she accepted his offer of a house tour. Leaving Mojo to his nap in the kitchen on the oversize dog bed, which would soon be too small, Parker assumed the manner of an official guide as he led her from room to room. He soon had her smiling.

  “This,” he said as he patted the television, “is my only antique. No flat screen for me.”

  “Why not? I thought all men wanted a huge flat-screen TV these days.”

  “Remember, I don’t watch television very much. Mostly only a movie now and again.”

  “Don’t you miss keeping up on world events?”

  He shrugged. “I catch the news on the radio.” He led her to a display of photographs on the adjacent wall. “Here we have the family portrait gallery.” He inclined his head at the framed image of a handsome couple, a smiling man who looked enough like him to be his twin and a small brunette with lovely blue eyes. “My brother Clint, and his wife, Loni.” Then he pointed to a picture of a little boy holding a chubby baby girl in his arms. “That’s Trevor, Clint’s son, with his little sister, Aliza. Loni’s been feelin’ queasy of a mornin’, so there may be another picture on my wall soon.”

  Rainie studied the little boy’s face. “He looks so much like you.”

  “Looks like all of us,” he said with a grin. “It’s the Harrigan curse. We all take after the old man, big nose and all.”

  “Your nose isn’t big.”

  “I love you. Will you marry me?”

  Rainie laughed. “It truly isn’t that big.”

  “Ah, now the truth starts comin’ out. It goes from not big at all to not that big.”

  She found it difficult to believe that he was seriously self-conscious about his nose. He was one of the handsomest men she’d ever known, his skin burnished dark by the sun, his jet-black hair falling in lazy waves over his high forehead, his body honed to perfection by years of physical labor.

  He went on to show her pictures of the rest of his family, his voice deepening with affection as he pointed at the images and recited names. Rainie didn’t even have a snapshot of her father, a loss that made her ache with regret.

  “I always wished for brothers and sisters,” she confessed. “Even a few cousins would have been nice, but I was never so fortunate.”

  He chuckled. “Be careful what you wish for. Comin’ from a big family has its perks, but there are times, even now, when I could use some breathin’ room. Quincy’s always after me about how I eat. Zach is always razzin’ me about one thing or another and has an uncanny knack for sayin’ inappropriate things at the most inopportune moments. Clint sets an example that only a canonized saint could
follow. His wife unnerves me with information about my past that feels like an invasion of my privacy, whether she can help it or not. Sammy criticizes my lifestyle, my workaholic schedule, my bad language, my speech patterns, and my dating habits. Then there’s my dad, who watches over all of us and can’t stop bein’ protective.” He sighed. “I actually turn off my phones sometimes to get some peace and quiet.”

  “Your phones haven’t rung all afternoon.”

  He chuckled. “That’s because I’ve got them set to screen all my calls. Nobody can get through.”

  “What if there’s an emergency?”

  He sighed and hooked a thumb toward a window. “They’ll throw a rock at my house to let me know.”

  After showing her the formal dining room, which sported a huge, ox-yoke trestle table and ten rustic chairs, he led her toward his office. Before opening the door, he held up a staying hand. “Not one word about the clutter on my desk.”

  Rainie bit back a grin as she leaned in the doorway to survey the room, which was richly appointed with cherry furniture that brought out the rust accents in the cream-colored imperial plaster. “Nice,” she said, then couldn’t resist adding, “Except for the mess on the desk, of course.”

  “I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist.”

  “Never. Office tidiness is almost a religion to me.”

  As he closed the door, he jabbed a finger toward the vaulted open-beam ceiling. “Upstairs are the bedrooms, five of ’em, no less, just in case I ever get married and have kids. I’ll strike those from the tour. I don’t want to be accused of any funny business.”

  Smiling to herself, she followed him back to the kitchen, her gaze fixed on the rich outline of his strong shoulders beneath his blue shirt and then on the easy shift of his narrow hips as he walked. He exuded strength, this man, and yet, somehow, she didn’t find it intimidating anymore.