Читать книгу Fear Of Falling - Catherine Lanigan - Страница 15

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CHAPTER SIX

RAFE WAS STILL HOLDING the Indian Lake horse race brochure when he left the barn. He’d promised Curt he would close down the stable and lock up so the trainer could go straight to bed.

Rafe had just opened the stable door when he heard someone speaking.

He couldn’t make out what was said, but it was definitely a woman’s voice that lilted through his ears. It was a sweet sound, and it floated toward him like a lullaby. Then he heard the woman say Rowan’s name with esteem and playfulness. He didn’t understand. His mother, Liz and Maddie were all up at the house, and no other women knew his horse. And this voice was totally unfamiliar to him.

He inched forward, curious about the intruder.

Then he saw her. Her head was turned away from him, a waterfall of lush brown hair falling down her back, glistening with gold-and-red highlights. She was standing on her tiptoes, leaning far enough over the gate to Rowan’s stall that he wondered if she knew she was in danger of falling right in.

He rushed up, grabbed her by the waist and pulled her back.

“Careful there!” he exclaimed as she tried to kick free of his grasp.

“What are you doing?”

“I thought you were going to fall,” he said. She straightened up and yanked the waistband of her jacket into place, but not before he saw a band of creamy skin.

“I can take care of myself! And I certainly wasn’t about to fall into a horse stall. I’m not stupid,” she snapped.

Where was that musical voice he’d heard a minute ago? Was there someone else in his stable he didn’t know about?

He fought a smile. He didn’t know who she was, but her brown eyes blazed at him as if he was the one off base here. He lifted his palms apologetically. “Hey, I just wanted to help.”

She snorted.

“I’m Rafe, by the way.” He kept staring at her. She was familiar, but that gloomy fog in his brain refused to dissipate.

The woman gave him a strange look. “Your mom wanted me to bring supper down here for Curt,” she said slowly, pointing behind him to the table. He glanced back, and sure enough, there was a plate of food covered in foil.

Then it hit him. “The cookie girl!”

“Pardon me?”

“Macarons. Or whatever they’re called. You’re the woman my mother hired.”

“Olivia,” she said. He could swear her tone held disappointment.

He grabbed her hand and shook it. “I knew I recognized you.”

“Um...you did?” She was staring at him as if he was nuts. Which he probably was at the moment. He hadn’t carried on a coherent conversation with anyone since his father died. “What I meant was that I didn’t know who you were when I first walked in here, but yes, I remember you now.”

Those eyes. Who could forget those eyes?

She raised her arm and gestured toward the stalls. “Your mother told me it was okay for me to meet her horse and maybe take a few pictures. I didn’t see Curt or anyone else out here, so I sort of...introduced myself to all your horses.”

It was cute, the way she stumbled over her apology. She had a pert mouth with a full bottom lip that was naturally pink. No lipstick. In fact, he didn’t see much makeup at all on her. Her cheeks were red from embarrassment or being caught red-handed; he didn’t know which. He’d have to get his mother to corroborate her story later.

“I love horses,” she explained. “I’ve always thought they were God’s most majestic animal.”

“Don’t tell that to any cat lover,” he joked, shifting his weight. “So, you ride, then?”

“Your mother asked me the same thing. I don’t. But I was around horses a lot as a kid with my friend Sarah Jensen—Bosworth now—when we went to her dressage classes.” She lowered her gaze as if deep in thought. “There were other times I was around horses, too.” She paused for a long moment.

Rafe couldn’t imagine what was going on with her, but he noticed that her shoulders slumped and a frown plowed across her forehead. Whatever she was remembering, it wasn’t good.

“I’m not sure I’d be good at riding,” she continued.

“You just need instruction and practice,” he said brightly, hoping to lift her spirits. “You certainly don’t seem to be afraid of horses. For most people, that’s half the battle.”

“Afraid.” She said the word as if considering its meaning. “Not exactly.” She smiled at him, but it was forced. Her eyes were guarded; she was definitely holding something back.

His own curiosity surprised him. He wanted to know what that something was. Olivia was a total stranger to him, yet he was responding to her as if he’d known her for some time. Maybe it was their shared love of horses. Maybe his grief-torn heart just wanted a distraction from the reality of his father’s death. If he was guilty of using her to ease his pain, he didn’t care. At this moment he felt better. He felt as if he was breaking out of prison.

“Is it all right that I took a couple photos in here? I’m a photographer. An amateur. I mean, not professional by any means,” she equivocated.

He took in the expensive-looking Pentax camera suspended from a strap around her neck. “I don’t know anything about cameras. But I’m guessing you didn’t buy that at Walmart.”

Her ivory skin turned blotchy crimson-red. She touched the zoom lens daintily.

He didn’t know what trigger he’d just pulled, but something had hit home. He was fascinated.

Fear Of Falling

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