didn’t need to vent anymore. She chatted with Karen while she bridled Kira, and then headed out to the arena for her lesson.
Nigel was in a relatively chipper mood—that is, until he asked her to try that flying lead change thing again.
Miranda had gotten the canter figure-eight down to only one trot stride in the middle before picking up the opposite lead, and Nigel was sure she could get the flying change without much trouble, but no dice. She left the arena feeling discouraged, hoping that Travis could cheer her up—that is, if he hadn’t left yet.
Karen was still holding the mare’s lead rope, lo oking bored out of her mind. “How was your lesson?”
“Crappy,” Miranda replied. “No matter how hard I try, Kira and I can’t do a flying lead change. I feel like I’m beating my head against a brick wall.”
“Beats standing here doing nothing,” she said. “I’d rather be riding—or even cleaning stalls. Anything but this .”
Evidently, she hadn’t been looking in the right direction. Travis was interesting from any angle and the position he was in at that moment made Miranda long to throw caution to the wind and pat his hot little ass. Then an image of him doing farrier work while wearing only his boots and chaps flashed through her mind, and she nearly swallowed her tongue.
Travis put down the last hoof and gave the mare a pat. “She’s done.”
“Thank God ,” Karen muttered as she led the horse away.
Miranda giggled. “Boring the life out of the help?”
“I guess so .” He tossed the hoof rasp into his toolbox. “She’s not the easiest woman to talk to—unlike you. I could talk to you all day and you wouldn’t say you were bored.”
He was right about that . “Maybe she was bored because you weren’t talking to her. Did you ever think of that?” Karen obviously hadn’t imagined him without his pants. Miranda certainly could—hot ass, dangling balls, rock hard dick… She wiped her lips on her glove, convinced she was drooling.
“Aw, she doesn ’t want to hear about my rotten love life.” He smiled sheepishly. “Thank you for listening, by the way.”
“You ’re welcome. Anytime.” Yes, Travis, I’ll be right here listening to you bitch and moan about women for the next ten or twenty years. Maybe by then a woman fifteen years his senior wouldn’t seem so bad. It would be a long wait—but worth it.
She had just pulled off Kira’s saddle when Travis materialized right behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder.
“ Here, let me help you with that.” Not waiting for a reply, he took the saddle, set it on the rack, and zipped it into the carrying case.
“Thanks.” S he stared at him for a moment, puzzled by his unusual behavior, then gathered up Kira’s blanket. As she spread it out over the mare’s broad back, she glanced up to see Travis straightening it from the other side. He’s certainly being helpful today. Must think the old girl looks tired.
A moment later, he was behind her again. “Don’t suppose I could talk you out of another hug, could I?” He held up his hands. “No tools to hurt you with this time.”
Despite his smile, pain lingered in his eyes. Refusing him was unthinkable. She’d barely lifted her arms before being enveloped in an embrace that robbed her of breath and reason. Her eyes stung with tears and her lips were already pressed against his cheek before she remembered he was only there to be comforted. Stolen kisses weren’t part of the deal. She allowed herself a few brief seconds to savor the solid feel of him and let go.
“You ’ll be okay, Travis. It just takes a little time.” She was lying, of course. It had taken her a lot of time to recover after Kris died.
He nodded, giving her a half-hearted smile. She suspected he’d liked Shelley more than he cared to admit, or perhaps he was simply tired of the game—always looking and never finding the kind of woman he needed.
Clearing her throat, Miranda patted him on
Learning to Kill: Stories