Summer Nights (Fool's Gold #8)

Nothing happened.


She did it again. This time Mason turned and stared at her, as if asking if that was her or just a leaf.

“It was me,” she informed the horse. She wiggled in her seat, urging him forward. “Walk.”

He took a lurching step.

Actually it probably wasn’t lurching, it just felt lurching to her. The entire world seemed to jerk slightly as he walked. She screamed, dropped the reins and grabbed onto the saddle with both hands.

She heard something that sounded suspiciously like a laugh but was hanging on too hard to look in Shane’s direction.

“You’re not helping,” she yelled.

“You’re doing fine.”

“This is not fine. This is flirting with death.”

“Relax. Move with him instead of against him. You’re fighting movement you can’t control.”

Not information designed to make her feel better. She sucked in a breath and tried to relax. As her muscles unclenched, she realized the movement wasn’t as lurching as she’d first thought. She was staying in the saddle and didn’t feel that she was in danger of slipping off. While she kept a tight grip on the saddle with her right hand, she once again picked up the reins with her left.

“Good,” Shane said, his mouth twitching suspiciously. “Just like that.”

“Are you mocking me?”

“Only a little.”

Thirty minutes later, Annabelle had figured out the walking thing and had even been slapped around during a very bone-crunching trot. She’d managed to let go of the saddle and hang on to the reins like a real rider.

“Not bad,” Shane said as she drew Mason to a stop.

“Thanks,” she said, bending over and patting the horse’s neck.

“I was talking to him.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Very funny. So how do I get down?”

She’d used wooden steps to get up to horse level, but wasn’t sure she was comfortable dropping onto them. If Mason wasn’t in exactly the right position, she could easily fall off the stairs and snap a bone or something.

“Swing your leg over and drop to the ground,” Shane said, moving in to hold on to the horse’s bridle. “I’ll keep him still.”

She looked all the way down to the ground, then shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

“You can’t stay up there forever,” he pointed out. “You’ll be fine.”

“Do you know how short I am? It’s farther for me than most people.”

“By a couple of inches.”

Inches could be significant. As a man, he should know that. Still, his point about not staying up in the saddle for the rest of her life was a good one. So she followed his instructions on how to position her hands and then swung her right leg over Mason’s wide and very high back. Holding on to the saddle, she reached down and down and finally felt the solid earth with her toe. She released and sank back. Only to find herself unable to stand.

Annabelle’s arms went up and out as she staggered, her legs too wobbly to support her. It was as if the muscles had suddenly become al dente pasta.

Just before she hit the ground, strong arms came around her and saved her.

She found herself pressed up against Shane, staring into dark eyes that were bright with humor. This close, he looked even better. She liked the firmness of his jaw and the shape of his mouth. She was aware of his hands—one on her waist and one resting at the small of her back. Her body nestled against his and there was heat everywhere.

“Your muscles take a minute to recover after riding,” he murmured. “I probably should have warned you.”

She felt the first serious zing of attraction ricochet through her. It left her weaker than being on horseback riding ever could and alerted her to fifty kinds of danger.

Apparently Shane should have warned her about a lot more than riding.

CHAPTER THREE

“I FOUND IT,” THE little girl said proudly, holding up the latest edition in the Lonely Bunny series. This one—Lonely Bunny Goes to the Beach—showed the now-famous rabbit in a sun hat, on a towel with the ocean in the background.

“You’re going to love the story,” Annabelle told the girl. “It’s one of my favorites.”

“I can’t wait!”

The girl ran off to show her mother.

Summer mornings were crazy busy in the library. The summer reading program coordinated between the schools and the library brought in plenty of kids and many of their parents.

For the librarians, the hours were shorter, but the time spent at work was more frantic. Getting the usual amount of work done in less hours with more people milling around. Annabelle loved when the library was crammed, most of the seats taken and the computers hummed with activity.