скачать книгу бесплатно
His mother practically quivered. “Yes and she’s perfect. A librarian. Her name is Annabelle Weiss. She’s lovely. Heidi was telling me Annabelle wants to learn to ride a horse. You could teach her.”
A librarian, huh? He pictured a plain brunette in glasses, cardigan buttoned up to her neck and practical shoes. Not exactly exciting, but that was okay. He’d reached the place in his life where he wanted to have a family. He wasn’t looking for someone to rock his world.
“What do you think?” his mother asked anxiously.
“She sounds perfect.”
* * *
“RETURNING TO THE SCENE of the crime?”
Annabelle grinned at her friend. “There was no crime.”
“You know that and I know that, but rumors are flying, missy.”
Annabelle held open the door to Jo’s Bar, then waited while Charlie preceded her into the brightly lit business. It was lunchtime in Fool’s Gold and women already filled nearly a dozen tables. Jo catered to the female population, decorating with girl-friendly colors like mauve and cream. During the day the big TVs were either off or turned to shopping and reality shows. The menu had plenty of salads and sandwiches, with discreet calorie counts listed to the side.
Annabelle followed Charlie to a table and took a seat.
“Everyone is talking about you dancing on the bar.”
Annabelle laughed. “I don’t care. It was for a good cause. Even if it didn’t convince you to be in my festival. But that’s okay. I’m going to do it myself.” She frowned. “You are telling people I wasn’t drunk, right?”
In fact she hadn’t bothered to finish her single glass of wine. Getting on the bar last night had been more about feeling unsettled than wanting to show off and had nothing to do with any alcohol in her system.
Charlie grinned. “I swear, I’m sticking to the one-glass-of-wine story. The archaeologists were intrigued, though. I think the dance of the happy virgin is giving you street cred with them.”
“Yes, because they’re so wild.”
Last fall, construction workers on a building site had blown away a bit of the mountain, exposing Máa-zib gold. Archaeologists had stormed in to take charge of the discovery. After the pieces were researched and catalogued, they would be returned to the town.
“Are you helping them?” Charlie asked.
“I’m more unofficial liaison,” Annabelle told her. “My minor in Máa-zib studies gives me enough information to be annoying to the professionals.”
“Most professionals need a little annoying.”
Annabelle appreciated the loyalty. “Then my work here is done.”
The door opened and Heidi walked in. She saw them and waved.
Heidi hurried over. “Shane said yes. He’s going to teach you to do the horse dance. Well, ride a horse. I don’t think his mom mentioned the dancing.”
“Probably better to sneak up on him with that one,” Charlie said.
“You’re right.” Heidi grinned. “He’s a successful horse guy. He’s not going to be into the dancing thing. You’ll need to introduce the idea gradually.”
This was what she loved, Annabelle thought happily. Her friends and, for the most part, her life. She had a great job in a town she adored. She belonged. If she got a twinge of envy when the light caught Heidi’s gleaming diamond engagement ring, well, that was okay, too.
In truth, she didn’t care about the rock—it was what the rock represented that gave her a couple of pangs. Love. Real love. Rafe wasn’t trying to change Heidi. He didn’t accept only parts of her. He was all-in. Annabelle had never had that. Her revelation from last night had stayed with her. She wanted more than conditional love. She wanted it all—or nothing. Messy, inconvenient love, where both parties gave with their whole hearts.
Not that she had a bunch of guys lining up, begging her to take a chance.
She pulled a folder out of her large tote. “I have the information I promised.” She withdrew the pictures she’d taken at the two florists in town, along with pricing sheets.
Heidi sighed. “You’re amazing and wonderful and I really appreciate the help.”
Charlie bristled. “Hey, I tasted cake. I wouldn’t do that for just anyone.”
Heidi looked at her. “Are you sure?”
“Okay, I would taste cake for just about anyone but I did it for you because you’re my friend.”
“You two are the best,” Heidi said, her eyes getting bright. “Seriously. I don’t know how to thank you.”
Charlie held up a hand. “I swear, if you start crying, I’m outta here. You’re emotional. Are you sure you’re not pregnant?”
“Yes. I’m sure. It’s just everyone is being so wonderful about the wedding.”
Heidi had been engaged all of two weeks, which wouldn’t be notable except the wedding had been scheduled for the middle of August, giving everyone barely two months to get it all arranged. Heidi’s only family was her grandfather, so Annabelle and Charlie had stepped in to help with the details.
They looked over the flowers. Heidi studied arrangements and prices. They paused when Jo stopped by their table to find out what they wanted for lunch.
“By the way,” Jo said, handing them each a small card with a price list, “the party room is going to be opening in about a month. You were asking about it for the bridal shower.”
Heidi leaned forward. “You’re making it like you said?”
Jo grinned. “Yup, just as girly as the rest of the bar, with very flattering lighting. Lots of tables, a private bar, big-screen TV and a small stage. I’m working on the menu right now. We can do appetizers and finger sandwiches or regular meals. Whichever you want.”
“Champagne?” Heidi asked.
“Lots.”
“I love it,” Annabelle said. “Want to have your shower here?”
“The room can hold up to sixty,” Jo told them.
“You wouldn’t have to limit your guest list,” Charlie told her.
“Sounds like a plan,” Heidi said happily.
Annabelle nodded. “We’ll get back to you on dates.”
“Great.” Jo took their lunch orders. Salads for Annabelle and Heidi and a cheeseburger for Charlie.
“Fries for the table,” the firefighter added, then glared at her friends. “I know you two. You’ll steal mine otherwise.”
“I would never do that,” Annabelle lied cheerfully.
* * *
“HI. I’M ANNABELLE WEISS.”
Shane looked up from the saddle he’d been cleaning and immediately came to his feet. Instead of a mousy, stern-faced woman wearing glasses, with an oversize cardigan and stockings bagging around her ankles, he stared into the slightly amused green eyes of the petite, redheaded bar dancer.
She had on one of those tight, strappy dresses women liked to wear and men liked to look at. Which was usually the woman’s plan all along. It was white, with flowers scattered all over. Skinny strips of fabric had been braided together to hold the whole thing up. The dress was fitted, following her impressive curves to just above her knee.
Technically she was covered, with not a hint of anything risqué showing. But the outline of her body was enough to bring the strongest of men to his knees. Shane would know—he was a breath or two away from going down in a heap.
His first instinct was for self-preservation. Moving forward wasn’t an option—that would put him too close to her. So he took a step back and nearly tripped over the stool he’d been sitting on. The stool started to go over. He grabbed for it, as did the woman. His fingers somehow got tangled in hers and damn it all to hell, there it was. The to-the-groin jolt of awareness, of hunger.
“You’re Shane, right?”
He inched away from her and managed a quick nod as he twisted the rag he held in his fingers.
“Heidi said you were willing to teach me how to ride.” Her expression shifted from entertained to confused, as if she was wondering why no one had mentioned he was a can or two shy of a six-pack.
“A horse,” he clarified, then wanted to kick himself. What else but a horse? Did he think she was here to learn to ride his mother’s elephant?
One corner of Annabelle’s perfect, full mouth twitched. “A horse would be good. You seem to have several.”
He wanted to remind himself that he was usually fine around women. Smooth even. He was intelligent, funny and could, on occasion, be charming. Just not now, with his blood pumping and his brain doing nothing more than shouting “It’s her, it’s her” over and over again.
Chemistry, he thought grimly. It could turn the smartest man into a drooling idiot. Here he was, proving the theory true.
Aware he was still holding a rag in one hand and leather cleaner in the other, he set both on the battered counter.
“You’re interested in pleasure riding?” he asked, careful to keep his voice even.
Annabelle sighed. The action caused her chest to rise and fall. It took every ounce of willpower he possessed to rip his gaze away.
“Actually, it’s kind of complicated,” she admitted.
Complicated? He didn’t think so. She was a beautiful woman. He was a man who had to have her or the world would come to an end. What could be simpler?
Only she wasn’t talking about what he was thinking and if she knew what was on his mind, she would run him through with a pitchfork, tear screaming into the afternoon, then back her car over him for good measure. Not that he would blame her.
But he knew better. He was a regular guy looking for a regular kind of life. He knew women like her. Make that, he’d known one woman like her. He’d married her and then had been tormented all through his marriage. Women like her wanted men—all men. They weren’t happy unless the world was drooling over them. No way he was going to make the same mistake again. No falling for wild women who could turn him on with a single breath. Right now, boring sounded excellent.
“I’m a librarian in town,” she began.
“You sure about that?”
The words popped out before he could stop them.
Annabelle raised her eyebrows. “Fairly. It’s my job and so far no one has told me to go away when I show up for work.”
Smooth, Stryker, he thought. Very smooth.
“I was expecting someone wearing glasses. You know. Because librarians read a lot.”
The raised eyebrows turned into a frown. “You need to get out of the barn more.”
“Probably true.”
She hesitated, as if not sure he was being funny or just incredibly slow. “Okay.”
Telling her the truth wasn’t an option. Admitting she was the sexiest creature he’d ever seen and that the reason he sounded so much like a mindless idiot was because all his blood was pooling in his groin would most likely cause her to bring him up on charges. Starting over seemed the only option.
“Tell me what you had in mind,” he said, staring into her eyes, determined not to even think about the steady rise and fall of her chest, or the way her painted toes on her tiny feet were just so darned cute. “Let me guess. You’ve wanted to ride since you were a kid?”
Annabelle laughed. “Have you seen me? Horses are big animals. Why would someone as small as me want to risk my life on the back of something that could crush me with a thought?”
As she spoke, she shifted, holding out one gorgeous leg to show him the four-inch heel on her sandal.
He supposed she’d done it to make a point about her height. All he could think was that she was small enough and light enough that supporting her weight would be easy. The image of them up against a wall, her legs around his waist as they…
He closed his fists against the visual, reminded himself that his mother knew he was meeting with Annabelle and thought about horse racing stats. When that didn’t help, he worked a couple of fractions in his head.
“Size has nothing to do with it,” he said, then wanted to hit his head against the wall. “Jockeys are small and they control fast, powerful horses.”
Amusement danced in her green eyes. “Sure. Logic. The last male refuge.”
He managed a smile. “I work with what I’ve got. So we’ve established riding wasn’t a childhood dream.”
“Hardly. Although I would have loved to be a ballerina. Anyway, I need to ride because I’m raising money for a bookmobile. We just finished up the new media center the first part of this year. It’s wonderful.”
“Isn’t a bookmobile old-school?”
“As in anyone can get anything off the internet, including a book?”
He nodded.
“I wish. We have a lot of shut-ins who can’t get to the library and don’t own computers. Older couples up in the mountains who don’t come down in the winter. A few folks in wheelchairs. That sort of thing. Right now we have a sad little van that makes trips, but it can’t hold much in the way of material. Plus, I was hoping to raise enough to have a few laptops and portable Wi-Fi, so we could introduce the shut-ins to the magic of computers. Open up their worlds.”
He hadn’t thought of anyone still being computer illiterate, but realized there was probably a fair percentage of the population either unable or unwilling to step into the electronic age.
“I’ve already picked out my dream vehicle,” she said, her voice crackling with excitement. “It’s huge and has four-wheel drive. That means it can go up into the mountains in winter.”
“How much do you need to raise?”
“A hundred and thirty-five thousand dollars.”
He opened his mouth, then closed it. “That’s a lot of vehicle.”
“Some of the money will go for stocking it with books and computers.”
“And the Wi-Fi.”
