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Made for Marriage
Made for Marriage
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Made for Marriage

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He shook his head. “You’re imagining things.”

Evie chuckled. “I don’t think so. Anyway, I thought she was … nice.”

Yeah, like a stick of dynamite. “You like everyone.”

Evie laughed out loud. “Ha—you’re not fooling me. You like her.”

“I don’t know her.”

Noah dismissed his sister’s suspicions. If he gave an inch, if he even slightly indicated he had thoughts of Callie Jones in any kind of romantic capacity, she’d be on the telephone to their mother and two other sisters within a heartbeat.

Romance … yeah, right. With four kids, a mortgage and a business to run—women weren’t exactly lining up to take part in his complicated life.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a date. Eight months ago, he thought, vaguely remembering a quiet spoken, divorced mother of two who’d spent the entire evening complaining about her no-good, layabout ex. One date was all they’d had. He’d barely touched her hand. I live like a monk. That wasn’t surprising, though—the fallout from his divorce would have sent any man running to the monastery.

Besides, he didn’t want a hot-tempered, irresponsible woman in his life, did he? No matter how sexy she looked in her jeans. “So, where’s this furniture you want me to move?” he asked, clapping his hands together as he stood.

Evie took the hint that the subject was closed. “One of the upstairs bedrooms,” she said. “I want to paint the walls. I just need the armoire taken out into the hall.”

“Oh, the antique cupboard that weighs a ton? Lucky me. At least this time I’m spared the stairs. Do you remember when Gordon and I first got the thing upstairs?”

Evie smiled, clearly reminiscing, thinking of the husband she’d lost ten years earlier. “And Cameron,” she said. “You were all acting like a bunch of wusses that day, huffing and puffing over one little armoire.”

Noah grunted as they took the stairs. “Damn thing’s made of lead.”

“Wuss,” she teased.

They laughed some more and spent twenty minutes shifting the heaviest piece of furniture on the planet. When he was done, Noah wanted a cold drink and a back rub.

And that idea made him think of Callie Jones and her lovely blue eyes all over again.

“Feel like staying for dinner?” Evie asked once they were back downstairs. “Trevor’s at a study group tonight,” she said of her fifteen-year-old son.

“On a Sunday? The kid’s keen.”

“The kid’s smart,” Evie corrected. “He wants to be an engineer like his favorite uncle.”

Noah smiled. “Not tonight, but thanks. I’ve gotta pick Lily up from the surf club at four. And it’s a school day tomorrow.”

Evie groaned. “God, we’re a boring lot.”

Noah wasn’t going to argue with that. He grabbed the kids’ things and rounded up the twins and Jamie. The kids hugged Evie and she waved them off from the front step.

“And don’t forget the parents are back from their trip on Wednesday,” she reminded him.

“I won’t,” he promised.

“And don’t forget I’ll need your help to move the armoire back into the bedroom in a few days. I’ll call to remind you.”

He smiled. “I won’t forget.”

“And don’t forget to think about why you’re refusing to admit that you’re hot for a certain riding instructor.”

Noah shook his head. “Goodbye, Evie.”

She was still laughing minutes later when he drove off.

Noah headed straight for the surf club. Lily was outside when he pulled up, talking to Cameron. She scowled when she saw him and quickly got into the backseat, squeezing between the twins’ booster seats. Normally, she would have resigned Jamie to the back. But not today. She was clearly still mad with him. Mad that he’d made it impossible for her to go back to Sandhills Farm, at least in her mind.

Noah got out of the pickup and turned his attention to his best friend. “So, Hot Tub, what have you been up to?”

Cameron half-punched him in the shoulder. “Would you stop calling me that?”

Noah grinned at his playboy friend and the unflattering nickname he’d coined years earlier.

“I’ll do my best.” He changed the subject. “Did Lily say anything to you about what happened yesterday?”

Cameron nodded. “You know Lily. I hear the horse lady’s real cute.”

Cute? That’s not how Noah would describe Callie. Cute was a bland word meant for puppies and little girls with pink ribbons in their hair. Beautiful better described Callie Jones, and even that didn’t seem to do her justice. Not textbook pretty, like Margaret, his ex, had been. Callie had a warm, rich kind of beauty. She looked like … the taste of a full-bodied Bordeaux. Or the scent of jasmine on a sultry summer’s evening.

Get a grip. Noah coughed. “I have to get going.”

Minutes later he was back on the road and heading home. By the time they reached the house Noah knew he wanted the truth from Lily. Callie Jones had called him a jerk. If he’d misjudged her like she said, he wanted to know. Lily tried her usual tactic of skipping straight to her bedroom, but he cut her off by the front door, just after the twins and Jamie had made it inside.

“Lily,” he said quietly. “I want to talk to you.”

She pulled her knapsack onto her shoulder and shrugged. “Don’t you mean talk at me?”

He took a deep breath. “Did you ride that horse without permission yesterday?”

She rolled her eyes. “I told you what happened.”

“Was it the truth?”

Lily shrugged. “Sort of.” Her head shot up and she stared at him with eyes outlined in dark, smudgy makeup. “Is she blaming me?”

No, she’s blaming me. And probably rightly so if the look on his daughter’s face was anything to go by. Noah knew instantly that he’d overreacted. Clearly. Stupidly.

Noah suddenly felt like he’d been slapped over the back of the head. I never overreact. So, why her? Evie’s words came back to haunt him.

You like her.

And he did. She’s beautiful, sassy and sexy as hellfire.

But that wasn’t really Callie Jones. It was an act—Noah knew it as surely as he breathed. How he knew he wasn’t sure. Instinct maybe. Something about her reached him, drew him and made him want to know her.

Lily’s eyes grew wider and suspicious. “You’ve seen her again, right?”

He wondered how she’d know that and thought it might be some fledgling female intuition kicking in. “Yes, I have.”

She huffed, a childish sound that reminded him she was just thirteen. “Is she going to give me lessons?”

“I said we’d find you another instructor.”

Lily’s expression was hollow and she flicked her black hair from her eyes. “So, she won’t?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Couldn’t you ask her?”

Good question. He could ask her. Lily wanted her. Lily never wanted anything, never asked him for anything. But she wanted Callie Jones.

“Why is it so important to you to learn from Callie? There are other instructors in town.”

She cast him a scowl. “Yeah, at the big training school in town. It’s full of rich stuck-ups with their push-button ponies.”

“How do you know that?”

She chewed at her bottom lip for a moment and then said, “From school. The Pony Girls all go there.”

Pony girls? Noah felt completely out of touch. “And?”

“The Trents,” Lily explained. “Lisa and Melanieeee. They used to go to her school. She kicked them out a couple of months ago.”

Melanie Trent. Lily’s ex-best friend. And now her nemesis. “Why?”

“They were caught smoking in the stables,” Lily supplied. “Big mistake. Anyway, I know that she lost some of her other students because of it. You know what the Trents are like. They don’t like anyone telling them what to do.”

Noah did know. Sonja Trent, the girls’ mother, had worked reception for him a year earlier. He’d given her the post as a favor when her husband was laid off from his job at the local sugar mill. Two weeks later she left when Noah had made it clear he wasn’t interested in having an affair with her. Sonja was married and unhappy—two good reasons to steer clear of any kind of involvement.

“Did you know she was some big-time rider?” Lily said, bringing Noah back to the present. “Like, I mean, really big time. Like she could have gone to the Olympics or something.”

He tried not to think about the way his heart skipped a beat. “No, I didn’t know that.”

“If she teaches me then I’ll be good at it, too. Better than Melanie. Way better. And maybe then she won’t be so stuck-up and mean to Maddy all the time.”

Maddy Spears was Lily’s new/old best friend. Friends before Melanie had arrived on the scene and broken apart because Maddy was a quiet, sweet kid and not interested in flouting her parents’ wishes by covering her face in makeup or wearing inappropriate clothes.

“I could apologize,” Lily suggested and shrugged her bony shoulders.

That would be a first. Noah nodded slowly. “You could,” he said, although he wasn’t sure it would make any difference to the situation.

“I really want Callie, Dad,” Lily said desperately.

You’re not the only one. He cleared his throat. “I don’t know, Lily….”

Noah wasn’t sure how to feel about Lily’s desperation to get lessons from Callie. Other than his sisters and mother, Lily hadn’t let another woman into her life since Margaret had walked out.

Neither have I.

Lily didn’t trust easily.

Neither do I.

“We’ll see. Go and get washed up,” he told her. “And maybe later you could help me with dinner?”

She grabbed the screen door and flung it open. “Maybe.”

Her feet had barely crossed the threshold when Noah called her name. She stopped and pivoted on her Doc Martens. “What now?”

“Whoever you have lessons from, you have to follow the rules, okay?”

Her lips curled in a shadow of a smile. “Sure thing, Dad.”

Noah watched his daughter sprint down the hall and disappear into her room with a resounding bang of the door. Okay … now what? But he knew what he had to do. He had to see Callie again. More to the point, he wanted to see her again. And he wondered if they made bigger fools than him.

Callie unhitched the tailgate and took most of the weight as it folded down. Indiana and Titan snorted restlessly, sensing the presence of other horses being unloaded and prepared for the Bellandale Horse Club show that day. Bellandale was a regional city of more than sixty thousand people and the event attracted competitors from many of the smaller surrounding townships.

Fiona Walsh, her friend and student, led both horses off the trailer, and Callie took the geldings in turn and hitched them to the side.

“I’m nervous,” Fiona admitted as she ran her hands down her ivory riding breeches.

Callie unclipped Indiana’s travel rug. “You’ll be fine. This is your first competition—just enjoy the day. You and Titan have worked hard for this.”

Fiona’s carefully secured red hair didn’t budge as she nodded enthusiastically. “Thanks for the pep talk. I’ll go and get our stalls sorted.”

Callie organized their gear once Fiona disappeared. Both horses were already groomed, braided and ready for tack, and by the time Fiona returned Callie had saddles and bridles adjusted and set. It took thirty minutes to find their allocated stalls, shovel in a layer of fresh sawdust, turn the horses into them and change into their jackets and long riding boots.

Callie’s first event was third on the agenda and once she was dressed and had her competitors number pinned to her jacket she swung into the saddle and headed for the warm-up area. The show grounds were teaming with horses and riders and more spectators than usual, which she put down to the mild October weather. She warmed Indiana up with a few laps around the ring at a slow trot and then a collected canter. She worked through her transitions and practiced simple and flying changes. When she was done she walked Indy toward the main arena and waited for her name to be called.

The dressage test was a relatively simple one, but she gave it her full concentration. This was only her third show in as many months and she wanted to perform well. Indiana, as usual, displayed the skill and proficiency in his movements that had seen him revered by followers of the show circuit when she had been competing years before.

Before it all went wrong.

Before Craig Baxter.

Handsome, charming and successful and twelve years her senior, Craig had been a gifted rider. So gifted, in fact, that Callie often overlooked his moodiness and extreme perfectionism. Because underneath the charm and success, it had always only been about the competition. About results. About being the best.

And nearly four years after his death she still hurt.

It’s better to have loved and lost …

Yeah … sure it was. Callie didn’t believe that for one minute.

Love hurts. And it was off her agenda. Permanently.

What about sex? Is that off the agenda, too?