“I’ve gentled a few,” Roan admitted. “You have to work with animals from your heart, not your hand. I don’t think it takes any special psychic abilities, just love.”
“That’s a wonderful way to look at training animals.” Shiloh swore she felt his hand on her, stroking her, gentling her. The sensation was so physical that she felt dampness between her thighs. The man’s voice was a low, vibrating growl. Roan’s eyes were almost soft with feelings as he talked about the horses. Would he ever look at her like that, with that male tenderness? If she hadn’t been here to see it, she would have never said that Roan Taggart possessed an ounce of tenderness. But now, she knew he did. Her longing to have Roan open up to her fully, to trust her, made her feel deep ache in her heart.
Roan rose and said, “I need to finish up the kitchen and then I’m hitting the sack. Dawn comes early tomorrow.”
Lamenting their time was up, Shiloh slowly rose and brushed out the wrinkles in her white capri pants. “I’ll take the cups over,” she volunteered. “I’ll help you clean up the kitchen.”
Nodding, Roan walked with his long, easy gait to the kitchen while Shiloh cleaned up in the living room. Her heart was beating with renewed urgency. Right now, all she wanted to do was kiss this man and have him unveil his heart to her even more. There was something in Roan’s eyes, deep, almost hidden, that told her he longed to be that man for her.
Fear from the past, though, drenched Shiloh as she placed the cups in the dishwasher. If she kissed Roan, where would it lead? To the bedroom? To wild, hungry love? And then what? The dawn of a new day always brought back reality, not romanticism. She would be leaving to go back to New York City. Roan would never leave Wyoming. Or the beautiful cabin he was building near Pine Hills.
Feeling pulled one way and then another, Shiloh let the urge to kiss Roan, to take him by the hand and lead him into her bedroom, reluctantly dissolve. Her last relationship had taught her she’d better have one eye fixed on reality. Unfortunately, she was exactly like her idealistic mother: a romantic at heart. An idealist, not a realist. And like her mother, Shiloh wanted to give her heart to the right man. And up until meeting Roan, she knew she hadn’t met him yet.
Licking her lower lip, she turned and whispered, “Good night, Roan,” and quickly left the kitchen. Shiloh knew if she stayed, she’d do something she’d be very sorry for come dawn tomorrow.
Chapter Thirteen
The morning was cold but refreshing. Shiloh was eager to take a ride with Roan out to the buffalo area of the ranch. Maud kept a herd of twenty cows, calves, and one bull mostly for the tourists who were dying to see what one looked like.
A week had passed since kissing Roan. As she used the hoof pick to clean out Charley’s hooves, her mind and heart were never far from Roan. Oh, he’d been circumspect and, as promised, made no move to become intimate with her since that blazing, sky-opening kiss they’d shared on the porch of his cabin.
Shiloh was glad that she’d not only worn jeans, cowboy boots, and a long-sleeved orange tee, but also had added a heavy sheep’s wool vest and her green nylon coat on top of that. Her fingers were near freezing by the time she was done with her gelding’s hooves. Looking up, she saw Roan outside with his big black quarter horse gelding, Diamond, checking the cinch before he mounted up. Her heart swelled with so many happy emotions. Hurrying around Charley, she unhooked the panic snaps and let the cross ties fall against the walls. Patting his black-and-white paint neck, she ruffled his thick mane. Charley’s ears flicked back and forth. He might be fifteen years old, but the cold morning made even him friskier than usual.
“Come on, Charley,” she clucked, pulling at the reins, leading him out to where Roan sat slouched comfortably in the saddle. His gray Stetson pulled low over his eyes, his profile rugged. Diamond was pawing the earth, raising dust, wanting to go. Her gaze just naturally fell to that wonderfully strong, well-shaped mouth of Roan’s. Shiloh saw him turn, his gaze meeting hers. She felt herself go hot with longing, her body clenching. The man could make her melt with just that calm stare of his.
“Ready?” Roan asked.
“Yep,” Shiloh said, quickly mounting up. Laughing to herself, she’d become relaxed around horses and riding. A few weeks ago, she’d been paralyzed over the idea of riding. She had on a red baseball cap that Maud had given her and drew the bill down, trying to shade her eyes from the bright sunlight flooding the valley. Giving him a quick smile, Shiloh pulled on her leather gloves, wanting to get her fingers warm. “Lead the way.”
Nodding, Roan barely touched the barrel of his gelding and the horse walked eagerly toward the pastures in the distance.
“Ever been around buffalo before?” he asked her as they rode side by side.