The Express Rider's Lady

A throat cleared behind them, as loud as a gunshot in the quiet barn. Myles jerked his hand from hers so fast that she dropped the brush into the hay at their feet.

“Came to see if you needed help,” Amos announced.

Delsie bent to retrieve the brush and hide her flushed face. Myles practically bolted from the stall. “I think you got the hang of it,” he said when she straightened. He wouldn’t look at her. “Amos can show you how to feed them. I’m gonna get me some supper.”

Moving to the other side of her mare, she tried to ignore the sound of Myles’s retreating steps and the searching glances Amos kept throwing her way. She ran the brush over and over across the horse’s coat, fighting a sudden desire to cry.

Why should she waste a single tear on that ornery Express rider? They came from two completely different worlds, as Myles himself seemed to enjoy pointing out. Even if her heart should stray from what her father wanted for her, she’d witnessed firsthand what Lillie’s choice had done to him. While Delsie didn’t agree with his decision to disown her sister for going after Clay, deep down, she recognized he’d only wanted the best for Lillie. His wrath had masked his fear. She wouldn’t follow the same path and tear apart what remained of their small family.

“You all right, Miss Radford?” Amos held a pitchfork in his hand.

“Of course.” She kept her head tilted high, but she sensed the older man saw through the bluff.

Why did she have to feel this attraction toward Myles, one stronger than any she’d ever felt for Flynn, and after only two days? She needed to place all her energies and focus on reaching Lillie in time, and nothing more.

“Will you show me how to feed the horses?” she asked, infusing as much cheerfulness as she could into her tone.

Amos watched her, his blue-gray eyes keen. What did he see? Did he read the hurt on her face over Myles’s rude behavior just now, how he’d acted as if nothing had happened between them? Could Amos see how hard she was trying not to care? Finally, the older man nodded and motioned for her to exit the stall.

The lesson proved to be the perfect distraction. Amos patiently taught her how to pitch the hay into the stall and how to feed some carrots to the mare. Perhaps she’d take more interest in the animals and in riding, when she returned home.

By the time they left the stable, Delsie had almost forgotten Myles and his shifting moods—until they met up with him on the front porch. He sat on the bottom step, feeding Elijah pieces of meat from his supper. Amos took a seat beside Myles and removed his harmonica from his pocket.

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