ChapterNine
Emery’s nether region was tender from riding a horse for over two hours. Greer had hurried to the house and come back with a soft blanket that he’d laid over the saddle before helping her onto the horse. She understood why cowboys and cowgirls always wore long pants and not shorts, but shorts were all she had. The blanket had helped her not chafe, thankfully, and she had absolutely loved the ride so far. Greer had led the way around the south side of the lake and then up some mountain trails. Brooks was obviously an older horse. He was gentle and obedient, and Emery thought he was perfect.
She didn’t have to do much more than stay in the saddle as Brooks followed Bear, Greer’s horse, along the trails. The mountains were exquisitely beautiful, green with thick undergrowth, pine and aspen trees, and the bright blue sky visible in pockets above the trees. It smelled like pine, cedar bark, and fresh air. She loved it here.
Unfortunately for her confused mind and heart, she loved the view of a tough cowboy seated so comfortably on his horse in front of her more than she loved the beauty of nature. Greer Delta. Wow. He could ride a horse like nobody’s business. He kept the pace slow for her, but it was obvious he’d been born to sit straight, tall, and perfect on his studly horse’s back. Bear was a huge black stallion and he fit Greer. They could both star in any cowboy movie.
Too often throughout their ride, Greer would glance back at her and even under the shadow of his cowboy hat, she could see he knew she’d been staring. How could she help herself? He was far too good-looking, but more than that he was fun to tease, easy to talk to, strong and solid in all the ways that mattered. Greer seemed to be a man a woman could trust and love with every piece of her heart, body, and soul. She quivered just thinking about the times they’d touched and how he’d held her last night.
She should feel guilty that she was so taken by and impressed with the man who had supposedly killed her brother. She was starting to doubt the Voice. But that was wrong. Travis had believed in the Voice. She worried the Voice had wrong information or was deliberately misleading her and had done the same to her brother.
She had to ask the Voice more questions, but she felt almost afraid to. Why had she let herself be pushed into avenging her brother and helping her country with some dude whose name she didn’t even know?
She hadn’t had near enough time with Greer, but she appreciated what she knew. The only way he could’ve killed Travis was if Greer was completely deluded into thinking his family were the good guys and somebody had ordered him to kill Travis, thinking her brother was a bad guy. It was also possible Travisandthe Voice were taking orders from the wrong side or had been misled.
She didn’t know. She pushed away the confusion and the worries and breathed in the scent of pine and horse as she saw the lake come back into view. It was so gorgeous, blue and clear, and she could bet it was ice cold.
What could she do about her worries? If the Voice was the good guy, then she was doing what she should, getting Greer comfortable, getting to know him so she could find some secret weapon. If Greer was the good guy, then she was doing what she should, getting to know him and trust him so maybe someday she could confide in him who she was and what she was really doing here.
The problem with Greer being the good guy was it meant Travis was bad. No. Her brother had always loved and protected her. No matter how hardened the military had made him or what he’d gone through with his deployments, he’d been good on the inside. She favored the theory that Travis was the one tricked into thinking he was on the right side. He was a soldier and definitely would’ve obeyed orders.
That thought calmed her as they rode around the lake and made it back to Greer’s barn with the sun high in the sky.
Greer swung off his horse and she should’ve followed suit, but it was so impressive how he moved that she found herself staring. He held on to Bear’s reins and walked over to her and Brooks. He tilted his head back and she got a glimpse of those brilliantly blue eyes from underneath his cowboy hat.
“Reins,” he said simply.
“Oh. You want these reins?” She flipped them in her hand.
He smiled and nodded at her.
She pulled the leather strap over Brooks’s head and placed both ends in Greer’s outstretched hand. He held onto the reins of both horses and walked the short distance to the barn door, looping the reins through the handle. Then he came to the left side of her horse and reached up for her. Of course he said nothing, but Emery didn’t mind. She loved the silence and majestic beauty of this place, and if she could admit it to herself, of this man. Most of her days were spent with over twenty ten-year-olds all trying to get her attention and tell her stories. She adored her little people, but silence was bliss.
She pulled her right shoe out of the stirrup and swung it over the horse. Leaning forward, she put both hands on his broad shoulders as his palms wrapped around her waist. She pulled her left foot out of the stirrup and Greer easily lifted her to the ground.
Her legs almost collapsed out from under her. She wasn’t sure if it was so much time in the saddle or how incredible it felt to have Greer’s hands on her waist and him looking deeply into her eyes.
“Whoa!” she exclaimed. “I’ve got no horse legs.”
He chuckled and held her up. Emery leaned into him, clinging to his muscular shoulders and amazed at how comfortable she was with him. He was so confident and secure with himself it seemed impossible not to relax and trust this stalwart, beautiful, steady man.
His smile slid away as he studied her. Really studied her. Like a man who was about to kiss a woman long and deep and thoroughly. She logically should not kiss him until she had some answers and knew who she could trust, but logic wasn’t much help as Greer leaned closer and his warm palms pulled her tighter to his broad, lovely chest.
Bear nickered and then tossed his head impatiently. Brooks shifted, seeming almost annoyed as well.
Greer straightened and stepped away from her.
“Distracted,” he muttered. Then he loosened the strap around each horse’s belly and they both seemed to calm down.
Distracted? By her? Was that a good thing or a bad thing?
“Your legs okay?” he asked, inclining his head to her.
“They’re fine,” she lied. Her legs were shaky from being on the horse and her inner thighs were a little red despite the blanket, but she’d be fine. She didn’t want him to worry or think she was a wimp. She wanted to be a tough cowgirl. This was the life.
Greer opened the large barn door, led the horses inside, and she tried to help him take all the gear off, offer the horses water and hay, and then brush them down. She probably wasn’t much help, but she enjoyed being with him and Greer was patient as he showed her what to do and helped her. He didn’t say much, but she didn’t expect him to.
After they finished taking care of the horses they went inside, washed up, and constructed ham and turkey sandwiches with cut veggies for lunch.