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“Great, Wade. First you want to scare me to death, then you want to give me hat hair. Thanks a lot.”
He simply smiled and put the tan felt on her head. “It’s one of Myra Jo’s. I figured you two’d be close in size.”
The hat was a bit small, but not uncomfortably so. Leah decided it was prudent to keep playing Wade’s game at this point. She sent a mental fax to the fairness gods to make sure she was earning points for this.
Leah nearly fainted when he introduced her to the monster named Thunder and then to Thumper. The little mare stretched her nose closer, and Wade had the poor grace to laugh at her stricken expression.
“She wants you to blow back in her nose, Leah.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Nope. Watch.”
She was fascinated to see the horse brighten from his attention. Wade finally convinced her to try it, but only laughed at her again.
“That wasn’t a blow. That wasn’t even a sneeze. Come on, Leah, this animal weighs seven times as much as you do. Blow!”
When she did, she earned another snuffle from Thumper and actually felt her fear lighten a small notch.
Finally Wade gave her a quick course in mounting before helping her onto Thumper with surprisingly little discomfort on her part, considering his proximity. His face near her thighs and his hands on her calves as he adjusted her stirrups might have caused her blood to heat and her face to flush, but it wasn’t from embarrassment.
She admitted feeling envy as she watched him take his seat on Thunder’s muscular back. His fluid grace as he mounted told her he’d done this countless times, and it was as natural to him as breathing. She may not have been on a horse herself, but being a “true native,” she could deduce a real horseman.
Suddenly Thunder didn’t seem so frightening with Wade sitting confidently, almost negligently, in the saddle. She didn’t care how corny it sounded, he looked as if he’d been born there. And it was easy to see how the mystique of a cowboy had lured more than one feminine heart down the garden path.
Which she would do well to remember.
Instead her imagination rolled right over the warning. Wade carried the essence of a born-and-bred Texan male, something that couldn’t be purchased at a Western-wear store. All the boots leather could make would never endow the wearer with the long-limbed stride so much a part of Wade Mackey. Leah had little doubt he also held the code-of-the-West attitude that tended to make the feminist in her twitch; but at the same time, she felt a traitorous thrill when she wondered what it would be like to be loved and protected by this unapologetically alpha male.
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