скачать книгу бесплатно
“Right.”
So much for simply handing her a check. “So how does learning to ride fit into all this?”
She smiled. “This is where we test how much you learned in history class. I’m going to ride in a ceremony celebrating the Máa-zib tribe.”
Shane grimaced. “That class was a long time ago.” He paused, then nodded as something he’d learned in fourth or fifth grade drifted into his brain. “They settled the area eight hundred years ago. Maybe more. They’re Mayan women who founded their own civilization here. And maybe there was something in the news about gold recently?”
“You were a good student.”
“Not really. I would rather have been outside.”
“Not me. I always had my nose in a book. Anyway, yes, those are the basics. At the end of summer, there will be a festival that will include authentic Máa-zib crafts and lectures, and me on a horse performing the traditional ride of the female warrior. It’s more of a dance, really. Technically it’s called the Dance of the Horse.”
“You’re going to dance on a horse?”
“No. The horse is going to dance while I ride it.”
This time Shane remembered about the stool when he took a step back. “Do you have a dancing horse?”
“Um, no. I thought maybe we could work on that, too.”
He took another step back. “You want me to teach you to ride and teach a horse to dance?”
“Isn’t that possible?”
Her gaze settled on his, rendering him immobile, so when she moved closer, he was unable to ease away. She smiled up at him and put her hand on his arm.
“Heidi said you’re gifted when it comes to horses. It’s just a little dance. A few steps. For a good cause.”
He doubted she was doing anything extraordinary. In most parts of the country, a beautiful woman touching a man’s arm was considered a perk, not the least bit dangerous. But she wasn’t just any woman. This was the one he’d seen dancing on top of a bar. The one he, for reasons of chemistry and Fate having a hell of a good time at his expense, found irresistible.
Why couldn’t she have been the cardigan-wearing boring stereotypical librarian he’d been expecting? Or maybe librarians weren’t like that at all. Maybe they were all wild, like Annabelle, and the cardigan thing was a giant joke they played on a world too self-involved to see the truth. Either way, he was lost. Lost in a pair of green eyes and a sexy smile that hit him like a fist to the gut. Only it wasn’t a fist and the parts of him responding weren’t exactly his gut.
He wanted to say no, but he couldn’t. Not only because the bookmobile was a good cause but because his mother would give him a look that told him how he’d disappointed her. Despite crossing thirty a few years ago, he couldn’t stand that look.
“I’m a tough, macho guy,” he growled, then held in a groan as he realized he’d spoken out loud.
Annabelle raised her eyebrows, then stepped back. “I’m, ah, sure that’s true. Big horse man.”
He swore under his breath.
Before he could figure out how to extricate himself from the conversation and somehow recover what was left of his dignity, he heard a loud neigh from one of the corrals. He turned and saw the white stallion standing by the gate, his dark gaze fixed on Annabelle.
She turned in the direction of the sound. “Oh, wow. That horse is beautiful. What’s her name?”
“His. Khatar. He’s a stallion. Arabian.”
And a sonofabitch, Shane thought. The kind of horse who wanted to make sure everyone knew he was in charge. Khatar’s previous owner had been too aggressive, trying to break the horse’s spirit. Now Shane had to fix the mistake, which was turning out to be a challenge. But he would do it—he had to. He had way too much money riding on the physically perfect animal.
He turned back to Annabelle. Even in her four-inch heels, she barely came past his shoulder. He figured he could get her on one of his calmer geldings and have her riding in a week or two. As to the dancing, he would deal with that later. When he could speak in full sentences.
“When do you want to start?” he asked, impressed he was able to string the words together.
She turned back to him and smiled. “How about tomorrow?”
“Sure.” The sooner they started, the sooner they would be finished. Better for both of them to get her out of his life. She could go on tormenting other men and he could stop acting like an idiot. It was close enough for him to call it a win.
CHAPTER TWO
ANNABELLE DIDN’T COMPLETELY understand the science of growing fruit. Not only had she been raised in a city, her ability to grow anything was hampered by having what she cheerfully referred to as the black thumb of death. If she got too close to a plant, it visibly recoiled. If she dared to take one home with her, the poor thing withered and died within a couple of weeks. She’d tried watering, feeding, sunlight and playing classical music. She’d read books on the subject. Nothing worked. It had gotten to the point where the Plants for the Planet, a small local nursery in town, refused to sell her anything except cut flowers. Something she tried not to take personally. So the agricultural cycle of life eluded her.
What she did know was that fruit that grew on trees matured later than fruit that grew on vines, or bushes. That strawberries arrived first and that cherries, which grew on trees and therefore should have been later in the summer, were available by mid-June. She also knew that several families spent their summers living in small trailers by the vineyards and orchards. They worked the various crops and after the grapes were picked in late September and early October, they moved on.
Annabelle drove up to the circle of trailers and parked. Before she’d even opened her door, children spilled out of the trailers, jumped off swings and raced from the grove of trees shading the area. They circled her car, laughing, pulling open her door and urging her out.
“Did you bring them? Did you bring them?”
Annabelle stood and put her hands on her hips. “Bring what? Did you ask me for something?”
The children, ranging in ages from maybe four to eleven or twelve, smiled eagerly at her. One little boy darted behind her and pulled the latch that opened her trunk. Immediately the children hurried over and began searching through the bins of books she’d brought.
“It’s here.”
“That one’s mine.”
“The second and third book in the series? Sweet!”
By the time the kids had found their requested books and disappeared to begin the magic of getting lost in a story, the mothers had appeared, most carrying infants or toddlers in their arms.
Annabelle greeted the women she knew and was introduced to a few she hadn’t met yet. Maria, a slight woman in her early forties, leaned heavily on her cane as she gave Annabelle a welcoming hug.
“The children were watching the clock all morning,” she said, leading the way to a small outdoor table by the largest trailer. Maria’s husband managed the group of workers and spoke for them when dealing with the local farmers. Maria acted as unofficial “den mother” for the younger women.
“I’m glad,” Annabelle said, settling in one of the folding chairs. “When I was their age, summer was all about reading.”
“It is for them, too. Since last year, when you first found us, the little ones want books.”
After moving to Fool’s Gold the previous year, Annabelle had started driving around to explore the area. She’d discovered the enclave of trailers, had met several of the women and made friends with the children. Maria had been the first to welcome her and had been enthusiastic about her idea of bringing books to community.
This year, Annabelle had created several reading lists, based on the ages of the children. She was working on getting donations so that when the families left, they would take plenty of books with them. Enough to last until they returned next year.
Maria had already set out iced tea and cookies. Annabelle poured them each a glass.
“Leticia is going to have her baby this week,” Maria said. “Her husband is frantic. Men have no patience with nature when it comes to their children. He asks every day, ‘Is it now?’ As if the baby is going to tell him.”
“He sounds excited.”
“He is. And frightened.” She called out something in Spanish.
“Sí, Mama,” came the response.
Maria smiled. “They’re writing down the titles of the books they took, and what they want for next time.”
“I’ll be back next week.” Annabelle lowered her voice. “I have several of those romances you like, as well.”
Maria grinned. “Good. We all like them.”
Annabelle wanted to offer more, which was why she was focused on getting the money for the bookmobile. With luck, this time next year she would be bringing a lot more than three or four bins of books in the trunk of her car. She would be able to offer free internet access. Maria and her friends could email with family members in different countries and use various web resources to supplement their children’s education.
“Blanca’s engaged,” Maria said with a sigh.
“Congratulations.”
“I told you, good men are out there.”
“Yes, in Bakersfield. You told me.” Maria’s eldest daughter had studied nursing, then moved to central California.
“He’s a doctor.”
Annabelle laughed. “Every mother’s dream.”
“She’s happy and that matters most, but yes, I like saying my daughter is marrying a doctor. Have you been to the hospital lately?”
“That was subtle.”
“You need a man.”
Just then a little boy ran up to her, a small jar in his hands. He stopped in front of Annabelle and grinned. “We found ’em and saved ’em. Because you bring us books.”
She took the jar full of pennies. “Thank you, Emilio. This is going to help a lot.”
He darted off and she carefully held the precious gift. Technically it was only a couple of dollars, but for the children who had collected the pennies, it represented a fortune.
“You’ve made a wonderful home for your children,” she said. “All of you. You should be very proud of them.”
“We are. But don’t think I’ve forgotten what we were talking about. Finding you a good man.”
“I’m ready for a good man,” she admitted. She thought about her post-bar-dancing revelation. “One who wants me for me. Not someone who wants to change me. I haven’t been lucky enough to find him yet.”
“Luck can change.”
“I hope so.”
She thought briefly about Shane who brought the cowboy fantasy to 3-D life. The man looked great in jeans, but he was a little strange. She was trying to figure out a polite way to ask if he’d maybe been dropped on his head as a baby.
Besides, cute didn’t equate with good and she was done making bad choices when it came to her love life. The next man she allowed in her world and her bed was going to adore her for exactly who she was.
* * *
“WAIT,” SHANE YELLED, watching the teenager on the horse. “Wait.”
Elias, nineteen and sure he knew better, jerked back on the reins. The gelding dug in hard and came to a stop. Elias’s rope fell about three feet shy of the calf who darted away.
Elias swore. “Damn calf is laughing at me.”
“He’s not the only one,” Shane grumbled. “Why are you here if you’re not going to listen?”
“I’m listening.”
“No. You’re doing what you want to do and look where it’s getting you.”
Elias muttered something under his breath and reached for his rope. “If I wait too long, I’m gonna miss.”
“Waiting too long isn’t your problem.”
“Now you sound like my girlfriend.”
Shane chuckled. “You’ll get better with practice on both counts. Now let’s try this again.”
“See, you need to be working with me, Shane. What have you got going on here that’s better than the rodeo?”
“A life.”
“Not much of one. You’re stuck in this small town. I swore, once I got out of mine, I was never going back. I can’t believe you could live anywhere and you’re here.”
Shane thought about the couple hundred acres he’d bought and the stables and house he would have built. “I’ve got everything I need.”
Elias grimaced. “Well, help me win and I’ll take care of everything I owe.”
“Kid, you got heart, but you’re going to need a lot more practice. And I’m out of the game.”
Elias nodded toward the far corral, where Khatar watched everything going on. “How much did you waste on him? Coulda bought a whole ranch with what you paid for that one.”
“He’s worth it.”
“In your dreams.”
“He’s perfect,” Shane said, not bothering to glance at the stallion.
“If he doesn’t kill you first.”
“He has a reputation, I’ll grant you that. But I’m not convinced he’s as mean as everyone says. You interested in practicing or are you here to flap your gums at me? I’ve got better things to do than stand around listening to you tell me what you don’t know.”
Elias grinned. “I’m here to learn.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“Until three. Then I have to head to Wyoming.” Elias opened his mouth to say something else, then closed it and gave a low whistle. “I sure wouldn’t mind getting me a piece of that first, though.”
