Cowboys are Forever by Hope Whitley Read Free Book Online Page A

The horse was a big boy. He could fend for himself. She smiled at Trey, trying to appear brave. “Yes, I’ll admit that I’m a wee bit intimidated,” she confessed brightly. “They’re just so darned big, aren’t they? But I’ll be fine. If you’ll go on ahead, I’ll do what you do and bring him along,” she said, with more confidence than she felt.
    Trey groaned aloud. “You’re shaking in your boots at the prospect of simply leading this horse to the barn and you honestly think that you’re cut out for this life?” He laughed shortly. “Wake up and smell the coffee, sweetheart. It’s not going to work.”
    Marielle gritted her teeth. “It is going to work! So I don’t know much about horses yet. Big deal. I just got here. And you’ve called me crazy for wanting to stay here—well, let me tell you something, you’re crazy if you think I’m going to give up without even trying and run back to New York just like that!” She snapped her fingers loudly.
    At the sudden noise, possible taking it as a signal to get going, the palomino bolted. Marielle, taken by surprise, hung on to the lead rope with both hands as the horse raced toward the barn.
    “Whoa!” she cried. “Stop!” She dug in with her heels and leaned back, but knew that it was an exercise in futility to pit her weight against such a larger animal. She simply clung to the rope, not wanting to relinquish it and lose total control of the situation in front of Trey. Reaching the barn, the horse halted of its own accord and Marielle stood trembling, unsure what to do next.
    Trey appeared at her side, looking anxious. “Are you okay, Mari?” he asked. “God, I’m sorry I smarted off to you like that. I really am. It was uncalled for. Sometimes I can be a real jackass and….” He paused and his gaze found hers. “Tell you what. Next time I say something like that, just haul off and slap me.”
    Marielle stared back at him, drawn by the magnetism of his dark eyes. She forced herself to tear her gaze away. “All right,” she told him shakily. “Apology accepted and suggestion filed for future reference.”
    Trey smiled. “You know what?” he asked, chuckling softly. “You might do all right up here after all.”
    Marielle looked at him blankly.
    “In fact, they should add a new event to the Olympics just for you,” he said, laughing. “Hell, I’ve seen some fine athletes, but” –he gestured to the twin furrows dug into the barnyard earth by Marielle’s heels—” this is the first time I’ve ever seen anybody water-ski on dry land.”

Trey wheeled into the drive leading to his house. From time to time, his mouth curved upwards in a smile as he thought about Marielle. She had a sense of humor, he’d give her credit for that.
    She had spirit, too. Gutsy. He liked that. He still thought that her decision to live here in these mountains was somewhat misguided—but at least she had the courage to try.
    Trey strolled into his house and helped himself to a cold drink from the refrigerator, then headed outside to the front porch, still thinking about his new neighbor.
    Marielle had invited him inside for a glass of iced tea after they’d gotten the horses settled in, and he’d noticed a stack of magazines she had brought with her from New York—all publications dealing with farming, getting back to the land, and so forth. She said she had been collecting them for years.
    But dreaming about getting back to the basics or reading articles about life in the slow lane w one thing. The actual day-to-day reality of it was something else entirely.
    Trey knew that in the past few years there had been a growing movement toward getting back to the basics by people fed up with the corporate rat race and keeping up with the Joneses. People who yearned for a simpler lifestyle, who wanted to gear down and enjoy fresh air and sunshine, rely less on technology and superstores and know the satisfaction of providing for themselves with their own