Читать книгу Million Dollar Stud - Meg Lacey - Страница 9

TATER LED THE WAY back through the barn and stopped at the door next to the manager’s office. Surprised, Darcy said, “You want me to live in the stables?” He’d been positive Tater was going to lead him out the far end of the building.

Tater seemed taken aback. “What’s that?”

Darcy recovered fast, aware that he must have sounded snobby. “I mean, I’m surprised that your manager’s residence is in the stable.”

“This ain’t really the manager’s place,” Tater said as he opened the door and stepped aside to let Darcy into the room. “We have a house on the property, but we had a fire about a year ago and still haven’t finished renovating it. Always seemed to be somewhere else to put the money.” Tater looked around. “This here room’s where the groom usually stays, but it’s just sittin’ here empty at the moment. You don’t mind sleeping in the stables, do you?”

Darcy blinked as he met Tater’s hard stare. If he’d been asked that question a few days ago, he would have wondered if the person asking had lost his mind. But now he waved his arm in an expansive gesture. “No, sir, of course I don’t. If it’s good enough for the horses, it’s good enough for me.”

Exhaling, Tater clasped Darcy’s shoulder. “That’s the attitude, boy. Had me worried for a minute. But I always say that bedding down with horses is a lot safer than bedding down with a woman.”

Grinning, Darcy said, “Safer, but not as interesting.” A picture of Silver Braybourne immediately formed in his mind, her eyes heavy with sleep, hair tousled, the silk strap of her nightgown sliding off her shoulder. Given his choice between a horse and Silver, he’d take Silver anytime.

“Some women have a knack of getting in a man’s blood, heating it until it boils over.”

Recalled to his surroundings, Darcy met Tater’s wise old eyes, and realized he probably knew exactly what thoughts had been racing through his mind. “Those are the kind of women I try to avoid. It’s too much like commitment.”

“Sometimes it ain’t so easy. You gotta have eyes in the back of your head to see ’em coming.”

Darcy smiled and changed the subject. “This’ll do just fine,” he said, looking around the room. “So where do you live, Tater?”

“I got me a little place just the other side of that big hill behind the house. My daddy left it to me. He worked for the Braybournes, too, an’ so did my granddad. Braybournes and O’Neills have been together since the beginning, I guess. I watched all four of those little ones grow up, Silver and her three brothers.” He smiled, staring into the distance at an image only he could see. “I put Silver on her first pony and taught her to ride. She was a little stick of a thing as a kid, but that little gal was the prettiest rider I ever seen. Fearless, she was.” Tater shook his head. “But impulsive.”

“It seems to me she hasn’t changed a great deal.”

Tater winked. “Sure has changed on the outside, though, boy.”

Darcy grinned. “I noticed.”

Nodding, Tater said in a dry tone, “I noticed you noticing.”

“Hopefully her father didn’t,” Darcy said, sharing a wry look with the older man. “Don’t worry, I’m just looking. With a woman like that, it’s practically my civic duty.”

Tater held his gaze for a moment longer, then changed the subject. “I expect Harden will send down some sheets and such. Bathroom’s over there, an’ you got a closet, readin’ chair and light. You even got a little refrigerator and one of them microwave things over there in the corner. Most of your meals you’ll take up at the house with the family. Can’t have no real cooking in here, ya know.”

“Do you eat with the family, too?”

“When I want. But most times I cook for myself.” Tater looked around and rubbed his hands together. “So, you’re all set, right and tight?”

Darcy walked him to the door. “Yes, sir. I’ll get my things from the truck and make myself at home.”

“I’ll finish my errands and I’ll see ya tomorrow morning, then.”

Darcy watched Tater leave, then stepped outside, walking over to his truck to roll up the windows and collect his bag. He stopped for a moment and glanced toward the riding rings and track. The heat was still a force to be reckoned with, and the late afternoon sunshine shimmered off the ground.

He took his time on his way back to his room, stopping to visit each horse as he tried to familiarize himself with his new domain. The last stall contained a black stallion that seemed determined to ignore him. Darcy sensed a wild spirit in the horse, one that called to him. But no amount of coaxing would bring the black any closer.

“Suit yourself, then,” he said. “You’ll have to make friends sometime.”

The horse snorted.

With a grin, Darcy turned and went into his room. He threw the duffel bag onto the chair and went straight to the bathroom. He closed the door and stripped, dropping his clothes on the floor before stepping into the shower. The water sluiced over his skin, washing away the dust he’d gathered on the road. He stood for a long moment, face to the spray, and just enjoyed himself. He was very pleased with the way things had turned out.

Stepping out of the stall into a steamy bathroom, he caught sight of his reflection in the foggy mirror. Well, here you are, Kristof. You wanted to be just a normal, everyday guy. He grabbed the towel and wiped off, then knotting the towel around his waist, opened the door and stepped into his room.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Silver gasped, standing frozen in position near the door. “I knocked, but didn’t realize…”

Darcy stood, stunned for a moment, then recovered as he noticed both her shocked expression and the bundle of bedding and towels she held in her arms. He thrust his hands through his hair, slicking it back. “I take it this is an official hostess visit?”

Silver struggled to get her flushed features under control. “What else would it be?”

Darcy glanced from her to the bed, knowing just how to annoy her for maximum result. “Hope on, hope ever.”

“Hope never, is more like it.”

“Now, now, Silver.” He winked. “Never is such a long time.”

Silver scowled. “I brought you some sheets and a blanket.”

“I don’t think I’ll need a blanket.”

“Suit yourself.”

“I generally do.”

Silver cleared her throat. “I brought towels, too.”

Darcy looked down at the damp towel covering him from waist to midthigh. “Now, towels I’m really going to need. This is my only one.” He glanced up, catching Silver as she focused her attention on his hips. If she kept staring at him, she was going to see more than she bargained for.

She jerked her gaze up to meet his. The atmosphere suddenly turned steamier than his recent shower as they stared at each other. Neither said a word as Darcy’s eyes roamed over her face, over those high cheekbones, catlike eyes, tilted nose. He stopped at the lips. She had a mouth shaped for giving pleasure, the top lip a perfect bow, the bottom one plump and sensuous. As he stared, her teeth worried her lower lip for a moment before releasing it. He wanted to catch that ripe, moist lip between his own teeth and nibble until she opened wide. He tried to keep his thoughts hidden, but the way the towel was creeping up in the front, he was pretty sure she had a good idea what he was thinking.

Silver tightened her grip on the bundle in her arms and exhaled. “Well, I—I should…”

Darcy followed her lead, trying to bring the situation back to some type of normality before he said the hell with it and threw her on the bed. “It’s nice of you to deliver these in person. I would have come and gotten them.”

“My mother asked me to bring them down right away. She wanted you to feel at home.”

“That’s very kind of her.” He sent her a teasing look. “And what a dutiful daughter you are to respond so promptly.” He didn’t know why he was continuing to goad her. Was it to see if she was still as impulsive underneath that ladylike exterior as Tater had indicated? All he knew was he wanted her to lose control, not give him that smooth, practiced smile designed to keep him at arm’s length.

“Don’t push your luck.”

He grinned. “I generally have a lot of it to push.”

Silver glanced away. “And the ego to go with it, it seems, Mr. Darcy.” Was that a smile at the corner of her mouth?

Darcy stepped closer and cupped her chin, turning her face back to him. “Please, just call me Darcy, remember?”

“Your name could be Quasimodo for all I care.”

Absently, his thumb caressed her chin as he watched her. “You can call me that if it makes you happy.”

“That wouldn’t make me happy. The thing that would make me happy is for you to go somewhere else.”

He dropped his hand. “Why? You need help here, from what I’ve seen. So I’m here to help.”

“We need help, yes, mucking out the stables. Not a new manager. The only new manager that’s supposed to be here is me. That’s why.”

“I don’t think your father sees it that way, does he?”

She didn’t answer him for a moment. Then she warned, “I’ve got my eye on you.”

“How convenient.” His lifted his brow. “And how very forward of you, Ms. Braybourne.”

She gave him a look that was partly suspicious, partly nervous. “What do you mean, convenient?”

He smiled. “What do you think I mean?”

She licked her lips, his eyes following every move. “I think you’re flirting with me.”

“When I start flirting, you’ll know it. I’m very good at flirting.”

Silver took a sudden step backward, hugging her bundle tighter. She didn’t realize how close she was to the wall, and she cracked her head against the knotty pine.

“Oh.” Darcy winced. “That must have hurt.”

“No, it didn’t.”

“Your eyes practically crossed.” He stepped closer. “Here, let me see if there’s going to be a goose egg.” He smiled into her eyes, stunned to see they were the brilliant light green of spring grass. He reached for her, tipping her head so he could feel for swelling. Her hair fell forward and he fingered a strand. “I wondered what this would feel like. It looks like spun silk.”

“You shouldn’t be—”

“Now, now, easy…” he crooned to her, as if she were a contrary horse. His fingers pressed here and there, caressing as much as searching. He was so close he could sense her beginning to tremble, much as a mare might before a stallion. Involuntarily, his hands pressed down as he stepped a bit closer to her.

“Ouch.”

“Sorry. Is that where it’s sore?” He closed his eyes for a moment, imagining her in his arms. Unconsciously he stepped even closer.

As his body touched hers, Silver seemed to come back to life—and regain her attitude. She lifted her head and slapped his hand away. “Yes, that hurts. Stop pushing on it.”

Stepping back slowly, he smiled. “I think you’ll live, but you might want to put some ice on it.”

“Thank you.” She hugged the towels closer as her eyes darted down his body. “And you might want to put on some pants. Your towel is slipping.”

“Oops.” Darcy grabbed his towel like a lifeline and attempted to regroup by growling in a soft suggestive tone, “You really want me to put on some pants?”

Do I? Silver would have much preferred to glide her hands down his sleek, sexy skin than tell him to cover up. “Well, if you don’t, I think it’s going to get mighty drafty soon.”

He grinned. “I don’t mind a bit of a draft. It’s a hot day.”

Silver gritted her teeth at the superb male confidence in that grin. The fact that he was such a prime specimen only made it worse. Darcy reminded her of her black stallion. The elegantly sculpted muscles, the breeding and the wild untamed spirit equaled beauty in Silver’s eyes. Combine that with black hair that curled just a bit at the edges, eyes as dark as coal, tanned skin and a strong, finely chiseled face, and it was enough to make a woman go weak at the knees. Her eyes swept over him. Under other circumstances she’d give her grandmother’s pearls to make love to the man. Or more accurately, to have a bout of the hottest sex she could ever imagine. Instead, she flattened him with her stoniest stare—or at least tried to.

Darcy grinned. “Ah well, if you insist.” He walked over to his bag, rummaging inside to extract a pair of jeans. Turning back, he toyed with his towel, and said, “You might want to turn around so I don’t shock your maidenly sensibilities.”

Silver decided to call his bluff, mainly out of contrariness. She folded her arms and leaned back against the wall, hoping she looked perfectly at ease. “You won’t shock me. I’m used to looking at masculine appendages.” Of course, they all belonged to stallions—but a penis was a penis was a penis, wasn’t it? Just because the one in question belonged to the most exciting man she’d ever met shouldn’t make a difference. She knew her reasoning was completely faulty, but couldn’t back out now. It was a point of pride.

Darcy stared at her for a moment, his eyes bold and challenging. Then, he turned around, dropped his towel and stepped into his jeans. Casually, he turned back to face her, holding her gaze as he slowly buttoned them.

“Covered enough for you?”

The jeans sat low on his hips, exposing his tanned, rippling stomach muscles. Silver was tempted to slip her fingers inside, just to see if he really had himself reined in as tight as he was pretending. She stared for a moment longer. She could feel the ache deep inside her as she contemplated her next move. Playing games with this man had an element of danger that could get to be a habit.

Her eyes met his. “Quite satisfactory, Mr. Darcy.”

“We’re back to mister, are we?”

“What can I say? I’m polite.”

Darcy stepped a bit closer. “I don’t want you to be polite.”

Her voice faltered a bit. “Why not?”

“Because you’re much more interesting when you’re rude.”

“I am never rude.”

He chuckled. “You practically told me to get out, that I wasn’t wanted here.”

“I told you I don’t want you here as manager.”

Gaze sharpening, he verbally pounced. “But you want me.”

“Well, of course I want you.” At his sudden wolfish grin she realized what she’d said. “I mean, I want your help. As you pointed out, we need help.”

“Help. Of course.”

She placed her hands on her hips, ready to annihilate him. “Look, you egotistical ass. I don’t deny that a few minutes ago, when you were…I might have become… ‘preoccupied’ with you—”

“Preoccupied?”

He gave her such an innocent look that she wanted to deck him. Instead she thrust the bundle of towels and sheets toward him. “Never mind. That’s not the point.”

“Pity,” he said with an elegant lift of his shoulders as he took the linens from her. “So what is the point?”

She inhaled, then exhaled, hoping to calm herself. “The point is my father’s getting older, and even before his recent accident, whether he admits it or not, it was getting tougher for him to work with the horses, not to mention the rest of the farm. And you may have noticed that Tater isn’t a babe in arms, either.”

Darcy turned aside, tossing the linens onto the bed. “I noticed that.”

“Then you can see what the problem is. It’s hard to get the regular work done, much less the training and the breeding we need to move forward with the horses we’ve still got. And make no mistake, Braybourne Farm still has what it takes. We might not have ended in the big money, but we’ve had winners, lots of them. And we’ve had them since the first Braybourne settled in Kentucky.” She lifted her chin. “We’ll have them again.”

Darcy turned back to her, his expression becoming serious. “You love this place, don’t you?”

“It means everything to me.”

“That’s nice.”

Taken aback, she stared at him. “What’s nice?”

“Caring that passionately about something.”

“Well, naturally. Why do anything if you’re not passionate about it?”

He smiled.

A few moments earlier that smile would have made her want to open to him as eagerly as a mare to a mate. Even now her impulse was to lead this man over to that bed so fast he’d be crying for mercy! Instead, she stepped back.

“Listen,” she said. “Just because you’re a passably good-looking man, don’t think I’m some little exercise girl who’d be impressed by that. Regardless of what you seem to think.”

“You’re not, huh?” His eyes held hers with a challenging gleam. “What if a time comes when I decide not to listen to you?”

“You—you…” Silver heard herself sputtering like a worn-out tractor. “You have no choice but to listen to me.”

“There’s always a choice. It’s just that sometimes there isn’t any maneuvering room.”

Silver lifted her chin and glared at him. “Well, you certainly aren’t going to maneuver me into something I don’t want to do.”

“Oh, I don’t know.”

She shook her finger under his nose. “You will not get around me with what you consider excess charm.”

“I don’t want to get around you.” He held her gaze. “What makes you think I don’t have another position in mind?”

“Why, you…how dare you!” Even as he enraged her, she felt the lick of excitement race along her nerve endings.

He grinned. “Are you afraid you might enjoy it?”

“The sheer arrogance of that remark makes me want to fire you on the spot.”

“I don’t think you can do that, Silver. Since your father hired me, I believe he’s actually the one to fire me.”

“I’ll speak to him about it.”

“And you’re going to tell him what? After all, nothing happened. It’s not as if I kissed you or anything.” He dropped his gaze to her mouth. “What would you have done if I’d kissed you?”

“Slapped you with a harassment suit.” Which was stretching the truth, but as usual when she was angry, she lashed out regardless.

“Theoretically speaking, what if I kissed you and you kissed me back—with a great deal of passion, of course?”

She couldn’t look at him. “I wouldn’t.” Another lie.

“Silver?”

She glanced back, practically mesmerized by his reproachful dark eyes. “Oh, all right, I’m human. Maybe I would kiss you back. I don’t know why, except…”

“Except?”

Reluctant to answer, she looked away again. She might not understand herself lately, but she certainly wasn’t about to open her heart and mind to a man who’d only butted into her life an hour before.

One finger under her chin turned her back to face him. “Except maybe now you’re wondering what it would be like to have an adventure? To make love with a stranger? Not the familiar young blueblood your father wants you to marry.”

“No. I’ve never…I’m not marrying him. That’s my father’s idea, not mine.” She scowled. “Why am I even having this conversation with you? This is none of your business.”

He smiled, as sweetly as the big bad wolf looking for a snack. “I don’t know. Why are you?”

“You started it with all your talk of flirting.” Love with a stranger. She tingled at the thought. What woman didn’t have a few fantasies—maybe of a chance encounter with a dark stranger, and steamy, uncomplicated sex? That didn’t mean she acted on them.

After a long, searching moment and an even more searching look, Darcy stepped away from her to indicate the pile of sheets and towels. “Thanks for bringing these down.”

“My pleasure.” She threw her shoulders back, adjusted her pearls and tugged down her jacket, attempting to restore herself to the elegant woman she’d tried to present when she first came into his room, which was pretty damn hard under the circumstances. “I have to go.”

Darcy walked over and opened the door.

Silver walked past him, then stopped. “Oh, by the way, my mother asked me to invite you up to the house for dinner if you don’t have other plans.”

“I hope she isn’t going to any trouble.”

“No. There’s always plenty for one more. Mother’s used to cooking for a big family and can’t seem to stop.”

He hesitated, staring at Silver for a moment. “In that case, I’d be delighted.”

“I’ll pass that along. I, um…okay, I’ll see you.” Feeling awkward, she stood there for a moment, then turned and stepped away.

“Silver?”

“Yes?” She glanced over her shoulder. Darcy stood in the doorway, shoulder leaning against the doorjamb, hands in his pockets. He was an animal in his prime, confident and seemingly at ease with the world and his place in it.

“What time?”

Her mind went blank as her eyes feasted on his chest. “Time?”

“For dinner.”

She met his gaze, noticing the devils dancing there, tempting her closer, beckoning her. “Seven.” Then Silver nodded and got out of there as fast as she could without looking as if she was running for her life.

Rick Darcy. She stared at the dusty black pickup parked outside the stables. Where had he come from? Her father had told her a bit about him, but not much. Why didn’t her father realize that managing Braybourne Farm was all she’d ever wanted to do? Since she was a little girl, she’d dreamed of what she would do when the farm was hers.

She turned from the pickup and stared at her home. She’d gone to the University of Kentucky, not far from here, and done the things expected of her—studied hard, joined a sorority, cheered the Wildcats on to victory, met the right people, then later got socially involved in the surrounding community—all in an effort to show her father how perfectly she would perform as the head of Braybourne Farm, given the chance. When her brother Brett had left a year ago she’d felt it was her time. Or so it had seemed. Her father had started turning to her more and more to talk over decisions. Silver felt as if she was making great strides. Until Harden fell from the horse and had decided to settle her future.

Settle her future! For God’s sake, she was only twenty-six, but to hear her father tell it, she was well on her way to mummification.

And now there was Rick Darcy.

She glanced over her shoulder at the dusty truck, imagining him behind the wheel, the image so strong that she shook her head. Not that Daddy would ever encourage her to look seriously at him—he was rather feudal on some issues, and breeding and family lineage were among them. She could respect his views because he was her father, even as she disagreed with the principles behind them. But her own inclinations might be the real problem, she thought. She hadn’t the vaguest idea why she was responding to Darcy so immediately and strongly, but she was. Maybe it was because she sensed he was different, much different from the men she knew. At her first sight of him standing in their barn this afternoon, feet planted as if he owned the place, he’d immediately gotten her back up. The fact that he had the hot come-and-get-me-or-it’s-your-loss-baby type of good looks was as annoying as it was enticing.

Swearing under her breath, she headed toward the fence that separated the drive from the landscaped grounds around the house, then stalked up the flagstone path. At least she’d recovered her cool enough at the end of their encounter to give Rick Darcy a good warning. He’d know better than to mess with her from now on. She kicked at a clump of dirt, muttering, “Why did Daddy have to hire him, anyway?”

With a frustrated huff, she stopped to cool off near one of the old, towering oaks that shaded the house. She had the unnerving feeling that things were spiraling out of her control. She didn’t like that. Regardless of how she often chafed at the restraints of tradition, she liked making plans and knowing where she was going and when she expected to get there. But now, as she looked at her home, she felt an element of uncertainty, of expectation. It no longer seemed a safe haven—not since Darcy had arrived on the scene. She rubbed the area between her brows, trying to erase the tension that had collected there. There was no reason for her to get bent out of shape. Her father had reassured her that the man was temporary, just until Harden’s health improved. But Silver had doubts that her father would ever return to his former capability, which made someone like Darcy even more of a threat. The thought saddened her. Her daddy had been such a big, marvelous presence in her life for so long. It was difficult to watch age creeping up on him, even though the process had been very gradual until this recent accident. His strength of will might still be powerful, but his body was beginning to decline.

She leaned back against the tree trunk. For the first time she looked at her childhood home and wondered if she was strong enough not only to save it, but to bring it to the glory she imagined. Suddenly, doubt crept in where previously there had been only confidence—thanks to a man with raven coloring and a bold, marauding attitude.

Silver sighed. Memories rushed through her mind as she studied the place. It was a clapboard ranch house that had been added to over the years. It wasn’t an architectural gem, but it was home—and had been since Cecil Braybourne settled in the area and decided to build a shack and put down roots. The roots had grown with each generation, until the entire farm seemed to be embraced into the landscape.

As she stared, her mother came out of the front door onto the broad front porch. She had a colander in one hand, a saucepan in the other and a dish towel slung over her shoulder. Silver smiled affectionately. Her mama was as small and seemingly delicate as her father was large and outspoken. To the outside world, Agatha Sweet Braybourne might have seemed a pushover with her polite manners and soft-spoken voice, but Silver knew better, as did her friends. Aggie, as Silver’s father called her, was as malleable as a hunk of diamond. Silver felt the power of her mother’s personality when Aggie walked to the edge of the porch and looked across the yard at her.

“Well, young lady, are you planning to become part of that tree or just hold it up?”

Silver automatically straightened from her slouch. “Neither one, ma’am—just thinking for a minute.”

“Well, come over here and help me snap these green beans while you think.”

“Okay.” Silver strolled up the path and climbed the steps, walking over to the porch swing. She joined her mother, who immediately set the saucepan in Silver’s lap and placed the colander in her own. Silver grabbed a handful of beans and started snapping. For a moment they sat and rocked gently, saying nothing, listening to the sleepy sounds of a late summer afternoon in the country.

Silver began to relax as her fingers performed the familiar homey chore. “Mama…”

“Hmm?”

“How did you first meet Daddy?”

Aggie grinned. “I accidentally crowned him with a baseball.”

“What? I didn’t know you played baseball.” Somehow she couldn’t picture her mother with a baseball bat. She was more the horse and tennis type.

“I didn’t. Harden was eleven years old and so full of himself that my little eight-year-old self just couldn’t stand it. We were at school and he was playing baseball with some friends. The ball had rolled off the field and over to where I was watching. He pointed at the ball and said, ‘Hey, throw it back, you dumb girl.’ Showing off for his friends, you know. So I picked up that ball and threw it as hard as I could.” Aggie laughed. “Well, I had more strength than aim. That ball took off like a bullet. Unfortunately, it slammed right into his forehead instead of his hand. He went down like an old oak.”

Staring at her mother in amazement, Silver gasped. “My God, Mama, what did you do?”

“I sent one of his friends for the teacher and sat down beside him and pulled his head into my lap. He had a knot already starting to swell. So I smoothed back his hair, kissed his cheek and told him he’d better not die on me ’cause he had to marry me when we grew up.”

Silver blinked and snapped another bean. “Was he conscious? What did he say?”

“He said, ‘Over my dead body, you dumb girl.’ And I said, ‘If that’s what it takes, Harden Braybourne, consider it done.”’

“And Daddy just went along with this?”

Aggie smiled that secretive smile that only another woman can really recognize and understand. “Now, Silver, when did you ever know your daddy to go along with someone else’s idea? It took me twelve years to convince him that it was his idea in the first place.”

Silver laughed. “How’d you know Daddy was the one for you?”

Aggie shrugged. “Sometimes you just know, honey.”

Silver thought about that for a moment. “Are you sure?”

“Well, I did, so I have no reason to think otherwise. Why are you asking?”

To avoid her mother’s searching gaze, Silver looked down at the growing pile of green beans in the saucepan. “No reason, just curious.”

“This wouldn’t have anything to do with John Tom Thomas, would it?”

“What makes you think that?”

“Because I know how much your father would love to see you settled, and I know how much John Tom would love to have it be with him.”

Silver glanced up. “How do you know that? Did John Tom say something to you?”

Her mother handed her another pile of beans. “The man announced to everyone that you are his next fence to jump. And he has no intention of taking a spill.”

Silver winced. “Surely he put it more romantically than that, Mama.”

Aggie chuckled. “’Fraid not, honey girl.”

“Oh, Lord. Where did he announce this?”

“At the club the other night, when you were helping Aunt Violet out to the car.” Aggie sighed. “I wish that woman would switch to another drink and stay away from the mint juleps. They just don’t agree with her.”

Giving her mother a dry look, Silver commented, “She says the mint settles her tummy.”

“Well, mint is good for that,” her mother agreed, eyes twinkling. “It’s the alcohol that upsets it.”

Silver indicated the stable. “Remember that horse we had who raided the herb bed and ate all the mint one year?”

“Sweet and Spicy, wasn’t it? Oh, your daddy was furious because we couldn’t have fresh mint juleps for your brother’s wedding reception.”

Silver stared across the yard, thinking about the gelding they’d sold many years before. Her pleasant nostalgic feeling passed when she saw Darcy emerging from the stables. Her stomach clenched. She could use a bit of mint, or something stronger, right about now, she thought, as she watched him stride across the gravel drive. The man had a way of moving that was almost poetic. Silver waved her hand, vaguely indicating his direction as she glanced at her mother. “I, uh, invited him to dinner tonight like you said.”

“What?” Her mother leaned forward a bit, peering toward the stables. “Oh, Mr. Darcy, you mean?”

“Darcy. He wants to be called Darcy.” Silver could feel the heat flood her face as her mother sent her a curious glance. “That’s what he told me.”

“Darcy’s a nice name.”

Silver shrugged, pretending a nonchalance that she was sure her mother would poke holes through in a minute. “It’s okay, I suppose.” She didn’t dare look up, concentrating instead on the beans, as if her life depended on breaking each one cleanly.

“My, my, my…”

Her mother’s comment recaptured her attention.

“That young man sure has a behind to die for.”

Shocked, Silver whipped her head around to stare at the older woman. “Mama. You’re too old to be looking at his behind.”

“Now look here, Miss Saucy Mouth. I may be a bit older, but I’m not dead, and I believe in saying what’s on my mind.”

“Since when? You always come at a subject round about, so you can take people by surprise.”

“Well, that’s true, but I’m thinking of changing my approach. I’ve decided that your father has been getting his own way for too many years. He’s becoming a bit difficult lately.”

“You won’t get an argument from me, Mama.” Silver glanced over, but her mother still had her attention focused on Darcy, who was now climbing into his pickup truck.

“I didn’t get to meet this Darcy before Harden hired him. But now that I look at him, I can say your father does have an eye for talent. I wonder if he’s as good in the ‘saddle’ as he looks?”

“Mama, for God’s sake, what’s gotten into you?” Just thinking about her mother referring to Darcy and mentioning sex made Silver squeamish. Next thing she knew, she’d start thinking about her parents in bed together, which might give her nightmares for the rest of her life.

Her mother wagged her finger vigorously. “Don’t pretend to be prudish, Silver. If you can’t look at that young man and see a work of art, then I’m very worried about you.”

“Well, of course I can—”

“Besides, we live on a farm, honey lamb. No one understands sex better than someone who lives on a farm.”

Silver arched her brows. “Our own little sex education clinic, you mean?”

“Absolutely. You not only learn about the passion to recreate, but you learn the value of good breeding, too.”

“Oh please.” Silver tried to change the subject. “This isn’t your subtle way of yammering at me about marrying John Tom Thomas after all, is it? Because this conversation is along the same lines as Daddy used a few days ago.” She cleared her throat. “The breeding part, I mean.”

“Of course not. I do not yammer,” her mother huffed. “But now that I think about it, I don’t really understand what you’ve got against the man. He’s certainly got the right stuff. And if I remember clearly, you had a crush on him all the way through high school.”

“That was high school. Right now he just seems so…so tame.” An image of Darcy flashed into her mind.

“Tame?”

“Proper. Broke to saddle, to use John Tom’s own riding metaphors.”

Fixing a penetrating gaze on her, Aggie smiled. “You want a wild stallion, do you? Like that black monster you’re trying to train right now?”

Silver flushed. “I don’t know what I want. I’m all mixed up.” But she did know what she wanted—a man who could take her breath away, a man with an element of danger instead of the ingredients of soft white bread. A man she hadn’t known since she was in braces.

“Hmm.” Her mother gave her a wise look and a hug. “Don’t fret, honey. I’m sure something will happen to help you figure it out. It always does. And when it does, just go with what feels right.”

Silver leaned her head on her mother’s shoulder for a moment. “Maybe I’m being silly, Mama.”

“Maybe.”

“I mean, John Tom is handsome, friendly, has good manners….”

“That’s true. But on the other hand, Silver, that description could fit any number of males, including our dog.”

Silver chuckled at her mother’s dry expression, but said nothing for a moment. She didn’t want to marry John Tom. She didn’t want to marry anyone. Not yet. The man who could make her change her mind was somewhere out there, she supposed. Perhaps even closer than you think, a small voice whispered. But marriage wasn’t her focus at the moment. Braybourne Farm was.

“Your daddy and I just want to see you happy, Silver. We’re not getting any younger, you know. But that doesn’t mean we want you to rush into something that wouldn’t be right for you.”

“I know, Mama.” She turned to face her mother. “I can’t promise I’ll choose the right person—when I finally choose, that is—but I’ll try not to disappoint either of you.”

Her mother stroked her cheek. “Honey, you’re missing the point. Try not to disappoint yourself.” Aggie patted Silver’s hand, then stood up and took the saucepan from her. “I need to see to the chicken,” she said, headed toward the door. “You did tell your Darcy that supper’s at seven?”

“He’s not my Darcy, Mama.”

Her mother grinned. “Just a figure of speech, honey lamb. But it sure is something to dream about, isn’t it?” She hesitated for a moment before opening the screen door. “You remember what I said now.”

Try not to disappoint myself.

Silver looked toward the stables. Easier said than done. Her life had changed since she’d left the house earlier that day. She bit her lip. She couldn’t decide if it was changing for the better or the worse.