8
RACING DOWN THE stairs dressed in blue jean shorts, a clean tank top, and an unbuttoned short-sleeve shirt, Jules hurried to answer the door. She’d just stepped out of the shower, and her wet hair clung to her shoulders. Carrying her Paddock boots, she was ready before the doorbell rang.
Opening the door, she found Tanner waiting for her, hat in hand. Dressed in a dark blue button-down tucked into a comfortable-looking pair of jeans and wearing serviceable, slightly scuffed cowboy boots, he’d even added a bolo tie made with jasper—or was it amber? Either way, it completed the effect. Tanner Wilks looked good.
“You’re here.” Exhilarated and annoyed he actually showed up to take her out after she told him no, Jules hurried on to say, “I can’t go out tonight. There’s a mare in distress at the foaling barn and I’m needed. Mateo called me just after I got into the shower.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“I’ll probably be there all night! You should go and have a good time. Catch up with your dad or something.” Not bothering to close the door, she retreated a couple of steps to take a seat, then pulled on her boots. Tanner stood in the entryway and glanced from her to the sitting room to the back of the cabin. “Are you sure? I don’t mind coming to help.”
“Tanner, I haven’t slowed down since I left the hotel this morning.” She was breaking her own rule in bringing up their night together, and as much as it might embarrass her to use that as leverage, she needed all the help she could get at the moment. “I’m tired, I haven’t had time to eat, and I barely managed to squeeze in a shower. Now I’m going to go spend my night trying to make sure a mare doesn’t die while giving birth. If we’re lucky, we won’t lose the foal in the process. I need to be focused on that right now, okay?”
Boots on, she stood and glanced around in mental inventory of her pre-exit-the house routine. She needed her keys, bottle of water, and medical bag. Everything else she’d require was already in the Jeep or at the barn. Tanner stepped aside as she breezed past him, closing the door after her. She counted her lucky stars he didn’t follow her all the way to the vehicle. Once inside, she waved and started the engine, then pulled out.
Her heart was still racing as she navigated the side roads around the ranch to the foaling barn. Mateo’s call about Missy concerned Jules, but she knew they had some time. According to her records, Missy had never been an easy mare about giving birth. Her last pregnancy ended badly—the foal had broken its neck either at birth or shortly thereafter. She’d given birth overnight and no one had been there, so they’d elected to retire her from the breeding program.
Previously, during Jules’s internship, Missy had also lost a foal to an epidemic of foal deaths to strike the county. Jules and her uncle had done numerous tests—as had vets all over the state—and though they never pinpointed the final culprit, it was an experience Jules never wanted to repeat.
Missy’s accidental pregnancy owed its existence to a faulty latch on a gate and a clever stallion. At least they couldn’t blame this indiscretion on the prolific Satan. Most of the time mares were fine; they’d been giving birth in fields for centuries. Yet Missy was a special circumstance, and Jules preferred to err on the side of caution.
The fact that Mateo called her at all also urged her along. Since getting to know him, she recognized his stubbornness about his own condition and that this led him to make the occasional foolish choice. Previously, he’d preferred to wait or do it himself—often to his own detriment—rather than bother her. Jules had made it her mission to win Mateo’s trust, so that when something like this came up he would call her.
Ten minutes after leaving Tanner, she pulled up at the mare’s foaling barn and parked. Mateo met her at the door. His limp was very pronounced, as opposed to earlier in the day. He’d probably overdone it on the fence boards.
“I know you had a long day, Jules—sorry to bother you.”
“No bother at all. How is she doing?”
He motioned Jules inside, then pulled the barn door closed. The fans above kept the air circulating, but with the rapid fall of darkness came more bugs flocking to the light. The bug zappers on the corners helped by drawing the insects away, but it was Texas and still warm at night. Jules left her overalls in the Jeep, but she would go back for them after she received a status update on the mare.
“She was lying down when I got here, and she’s definitely in labor. She just got back up again.” Jules followed him down to the triple-wide birthing stalls. There were paddocks closer to the barn where pregnant horses were allowed limited turnout for sunshine and grass, but also where they could be kept comfortable and away from the other mares. Sometimes pregnant mares got testy, and Jules and Mateo definitely didn’t need them trying to kick at each other. Even if they did look like a bunch of roly-polies going to war. At the stall door, Jules and Mateo glanced in. Just shy of 14.3 hands—or almost five feet tall—in height, she was a sweet, dainty-looking filly with a broad back, wide hips, and short legs. Everything about her was compact except for her back, which unfortunately was a little short to do jumping.
She snorted at their arrival, stomped her feet, then began pacing again. She’d obviously been moving around a lot, and her tail was swishing.
“She’s definitely agitated.” Jules watched her sides as they tightened, rippled, then released, only to tighten again.
“I’m thinking tonight. I know it could be tomorrow or the day after, but tonight seems more likely. I would stay . . .” He sighed, concern evident in every gesture, as was his own physical discomfort. “But I need to get to the clinic for an overdue therapy session.”
That was an admission on his part, and a big one. So Jules offered him all the gravity it deserved. She nodded. “Go ahead, take care of yourself—I’ve got this. You can check in when you get back, or I’ll call if there are any changes. But I’m good for the night. I can pull the cot over.”
“I hate to ask, but I’m not usually much good after a session with the therapist.” The sheepish, almost embarrassed note in his voice resonated with her. So she wanted to make it as easy as possible for Mateo to accept her assistance.
“Not a problem. I like sleeping in the barn. It’s peaceful—I can’t turn on the television and yell at it. Not to mention I’ve got a good book, and I’ve been behind on my reading.”
He laughed. It was a strained chuckle, but still a laugh. “You’re good people, Jules. If you’re here all night, send me a text in the morning and I’ll drop some breakfast off for you and a thermos of coffee.”
Her stomach rumbled at the very idea. “Think you can get your mother’s sweet biscuits, the ones she stuffs with spicy sausage?” Hopefully she didn’t sound too eager.
He winked. “Exactly so. I’ll see you tomorrow, Jules, take care.” Then he was off, limping his way down the barn and out. At the barn entrance, he paused and said, “Don’t forget the shotgun is in the tack room. And it’s loaded.”
“You think I’d need a shotgun to deliver a baby?” That would be a first.
“Hopefully not. But the sheriff called earlier with reports of a couple of mountain lions roaming around. Hopefully they’ll wander away, but a barn can be attractive, and you’re here on your own. Keep an ear out, and be safe. Everybody’s already had their evening feed, and all the waters have been checked. I pulled everybody in from the paddocks, so no worries about mares outside. Bring in your gear and lock up, yes?”
“No argument from me. I don’t do well with cats.” If she had to shoot one to protect herself or the horses, she would, but she’d rather avoid such an eventuality.
Done, he gave her a wave and then was off. A minute later, Jules heard his vehicle start, then pull away. Turning, she looked in on Missy and said, “Looks like it’s just you and me, girl. I hope you don’t mind a little murder mystery. I’m behind on my reading.” Missy just stomped and snorted, then resumed her pacing. Jules leaned against the door and began tracking the time between the contractions.
Mateo wasn’t wrong—Missy could have the baby on another day. The first stage could last the longest, and it was best to keep Missy quiet and feeling secure. If a mare sensed a predator, she could delay her own labor. It was both a blessing and a curse for a prey animal. Severe weather could halt the progress, too.
Her water hadn’t broken, at least not yet.
“I’ll be right back, pretty lady. Do us both a favor and give me time to get into my overalls. I’ve done this in my shorts before, but it’s very messy.” Leaving Missy to relax, Jules checked on the other mares on her way out to the Jeep. Most snoozed, though one or two contented themselves munching hay. The tranquil state of the other mares lent more credence to Missy’s impending foal. Only she showed signs of restlessness, but her environment was calm.
“Let’s keep it that way, shall we, ladies?” Jules suggested. The mare closest to her gave a light snort. The warm night held a hint of honeysuckle on the breeze, and night birds chirped. She was still making a mental list of everything she needed from the Jeep to save herself more trips when she noticed another vehicle approaching the barn. She grabbed her overalls out of the truck and threw them over her shoulder. Mateo probably forgot something or found an excuse to skip his therapy, or Ramon had come down to check on his son.
With a sinking heart, she recognized the F-250 pulling in. Thrill skated along her spine, and she sighed. The window opened and Tanner leaned out. “I grabbed dinner for us. Figured I might as well go ahead and feed you, since an emergency came up, and hopefully it will help me convey my apology for just ordering you to go to dinner with me. I’ll carry it inside and set it up for you, and if you can stand the company—I’ll stay.”
Contrition tempering his arrogance, his choice to bring her a meal was a thoughtful and kind gesture. His offer to set it up, then asking if he could join her, didn’t force his company on her. Yes, he didn’t seem to want to take no for an answer, but as campaigns to get her attention went—he’d hit on a great one. The hopeful look in his eyes proved to be the tiebreaker in her deal with herself, because telling him no now would be like kicking a dog.
“You’re asking to stay, right?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitched with a hint of a smile. “I’m stubborn, and occasionally stupid, but I heard what you said earlier. So I’m asking. Would you allow me to join you for supper?”
“Well, I suppose that depends.” Regardless of how difficult she found saying no to be, it didn’t mean she had to simply roll over and accept. How hard would he work for her?
“On?” Undeterred by her response, he stared at her and waited. She gave him credit, because he didn’t exit his truck.
“What kind of food is it? And who fixed it?” He hadn’t had near enough time to drive into town for anything, and they didn’t get delivery out here. Which meant he had to go to the main house.
“Chili, made fresh by Maria and my favorite. I even coaxed her into throwing in some of her fresh-ground corn tortillas, and they’re warm.” Then as if holding up the clincher, he lifted a large thermos. “Homemade lemonade, perfectly sweet and tart.”
Sold. But she didn’t want to look so easy. “Eating chili in a barn. That could get messy.”
The smile softening his mouth grew wider, and the lines around his eyes eased some. “Well, then it’s a good thing I brought utensils, bowls, napkins, and the table.”
“A table?” It was a barn with tack boxes and saddle stands.
“Come on, Jules,” he levered his persuasive smile in her direction. “I thought we could be civilized. We can sit on tack boxes and eat on the card table. Might not be a fancy restaurant, but it’s the food and the company that counts, and in my opinion, I’ve got the best of both. And if it helps, I even brought a deck of cards.”
“Oh, you’re pulling out the big guns now.”
“So I take it that means my invitation is accepted then?”
She hesitated, because as tempting an offer as he made, the intimacy of sharing a meal together—in a barn or anywhere else, for that matter—still crossed the line. Granted, she’d already ventured far into dangerous territory and had a fantastic time while she was there, but their night together had been before she knew who he was. “I should say no. I should thank you very kindly and send you on back up to the house with the reminder that you know I can’t date a rancher.”
“Okay, that’s what you should do, if you say so. Is that what you’re going to do?” Tension replaced some of the playfulness in his voice.
“Like I said, it’s what I should do, but I’m starving, and if the chili tastes as great as it smells, then I’m all in. For the meal.” She made it all about the food. At least if it was about the food, then it wasn’t about the company. Tanner’s company was welcome—too welcome. The butterflies in her stomach and the flush warming her face had nothing to do with the warm night and everything to do with him. “So if you don’t mind setting it up, I’m going to go check on Missy and get everything ready for her.”
“I don’t mind at all,” he said with a wide grin. “I’ll be right there with your supper, ma’am.”
Pivoting, she walked away, adding a bit of a sassy roll to her hips. “I told you—my friends can call me Jules.”
“Didn’t think we were friends, but if you insist.”
Damn, she walked right into that one.
Twenty minutes later, after she’d done a full exam on Missy, Jules joined Tanner at his makeshift dinner table. He’d set it up just down the hall and across from where Missy’s stall was, closer to the tack room. In addition to a plastic red-checked tablecloth—easier for cleaning—he’d placed a citronella lantern on the tabletop and turned down the overhead lights. A darker barn was more comfortable for the mares, and the lantern gave them a soft light and drove away the bugs. It was quaint and it was cozy—maybe just a little bit romantic and very practical, come to think of it.
“All kidding and caustic comments aside,” Jules said. “This looks great. I really am hungry. So thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” That was it, no teasing or poking, nor a jibe about her not wanting to date. Simple acceptance. Had he lost his arrogance somewhere between the house and the barn? If so, she didn’t miss it terribly. They ate in silence for several minutes, until Jules finished one bowl. When Tanner produced a second sealed container full of the magnificent food, he tempted her easily.
“I do have to admit I love it when a woman can eat.” He seemed perplexed, but also impressed. “When did you last eat?”
“I grabbed a sandwich at two, I think, after I dropped you at the house and before I headed over to the Fergusons’.” It all tended to run together. “I had to go and do shots for three of their foals. One of the mares had also gone a little lame, so I tended the abscess on her hoof. It took longer than I expected; I had to take my time. Then I ran to the Browns’ to unpack and check their order of medical supplies, then back here to call in the Round Top’s. I’d just headed to the shower when Mateo called, so—two.”
He shook his head. “Don’t you have a cooler in the Jeep? You need to take food with you.”
She shrugged. “I used to do that. When I think about it I will pack food in there. Most of the time though, I’m running so hard I don’t have time to go and get food somewhere, not much time to sit and eat, either.” She rolled a corn tortilla tight, then used it to dip into the chili. The combination of flavors delighted her taste buds.
“Is it always this busy?”
“The short answer is yes—there’s always more to do. Even for me, not counting medical emergencies. Foaling season is a catchall, and this season seems to have been especially vigorous in terms of the number of foals. Lots of expected growth both in racing and showing.” Jules rolled her eyes. It seemed to be something of a trend going around all the ranches in the area. The milder winters had led to almost dual breeding seasons and doubled their number of potential sales down the road. “My uncle used to say that we should enjoy the busy times because the lulls can be dead boring—there’s only so many vaccines you can give before your eyes cross. Although, he had a system and found a rhythm that worked for him. Plus, he had his assistants. They handled a lot of the more boring tasks.”
Tanner had finished his food and cleaned up his portion. He swung around to sit with his back to the tack room wall and stretched his legs out. “So I take it you don’t have any vet assistants?”
“No, not at the moment. When my uncle gave me his practice, the two assistants he had working with him pursued other goals. One went back full-time to veterinary school—she wants to get her own license—and the other headed to Dallas. He’s finishing up his clinicals in order to get his license. I’ve been meaning to do some interviews and see if I can find a couple, but it’ll probably be next spring, after the new veterinary school admits get in. We do what we can. And I’m young. I can handle it, and it’s kind of fun getting to know everybody.”
He grinned. “You like people.”
“People are okay. I like animals. Unfortunately, I have to deal with people to get to the animals—but enough about me, what about you?” Finished with her second bowl, and her fifth corn tortilla, she was stuffed. So she turned on her tack box, leaned against the wall, and mirrored his position by stretching her legs out in front of her. “I already figured out you were in the Marines.”
“Couldn’t miss it over the Colonel’s shouting, huh?” The self-deprecating tone softened the memory of his father’s shouting at the field. Or at least she hoped it did. “Enlisted when I was eighteen. Graduated basic, qualified for OCS”—he noticed the look on Jules’s face and realized she didn’t know the jargon—“officer candidates school, earned a commission, did some specialties trading, deployed, and haven’t looked back. Achieved the rank of captain two years ago, and I’ve been stationed pretty much all over the world. So really not that much to tell.”
Jules couldn’t help but gape at him. “You were stationed all over the world, and you think there’s not that much to tell. Define all over the world? Hawaii?”
He nodded.
“Japan?”
“Okinawa.”
“Middle East?” There had been a lot of conflicts overseas in the last few years.
He nodded.
“Europe?”
When he nodded again, she fought a flicker of envy. He really had been all over the world. “I don’t know whether to be jealous or feel sorry for you.”
“Well, don’t be jealous, I was working. Why would you feel sorry for me?” The latter seemed to bother him far more than the former.
“Because you’ve been to all these wonderful places and you’re acting like it’s no big deal. Or that it’s not special, like you just went down to the Five and Dime and picked up a drink at the Silver Dollar. The farthest away I’ve ever been is Houston. Technically, I went up to Dallas, but that was on a drive for the flea markets, and we didn’t stay. Everything I know, everything I’ve ever done, has been in Texas.” What a small life she’d led. He’d been gone all over the world and served his country in all these great places, and she’d stayed right here at home helping deliver horses and taking care of her uncle’s practice.
“I don’t make a big deal about it because you go where the job sends you. You get the TDA—temporary duty assignment—and you go. It’s not a vacation. Sure, I’ve been to some interesting cities. Occasionally, I’ve had leave in some great places. And there’s a few pubs in a few different parts of the world where I’ve gotten to try different kinds of beer.” He shrugged. “After a while, they all start to run together. I spent a lot of time on base, or in less pleasant quarters. Don’t envy me, not when I find myself envying you.”
“Me?” Who would envy her? Her life was so boring and normal.
“You knew what you wanted, you planted roots, you settled into a career, and you blazed your own path.”
She raised her hand. “Point of order. My uncle was the vet, and I took over his practice, how is that blazing my own path?”
He laughed, which made her smile. “But you’re still doing what you want to do, right?”
True. “Yeah, I love animals. I used to think I would have loved to have done specialty work with exotics—birds, ferrets, or maybe even just working at one of the big animal sanctuaries. Horses can be hard on the heart, because while they’re big, gorgeous, and have so much strength and grace, they possess delicate systems and an inherent fragility. Some injuries they never really get over.” Her mind flitted to Mateo. Like the horses he loved so much, he’d suffered a crippling injury he might never fully recover from. “So much can go wrong. I thought about exotics for a while; it’d be different. But they are even worse than horses. Then there are the big-game ranches.” She hated those places. They were illegal, though many operated under the don’t-ask-don’t-tell policy. She’d helped shut one down one year when she was in college, much to her uncle’s chagrin. Importing big-game cats in order to hunt them for trophies sickened her. Hunting might be a way of life, as was the elimination of predators hunting their stock, but she took no pleasure in those. If hunting was done right it was done clean, with no suffering to the animal, and it was done for food purposes: not for trophies.
“That sounds like a sore subject, so I’m gonna leave it alone.” The swift extraction from the subject surprised her.
“Don’t want to have to disagree with me?”
“I don’t mind if we disagree, but I’m tired of arguing tonight.” The weariness in his tone pulled at her.
“Not the reunion you expected with your father?” It was none of her business, but she’d been right there, and the Colonel had been furious when Tanner appeared.
“No, it was exactly what I expected.” Despite his casual tone, his distant expression revealed a disappointment she couldn’t ignore.
“I’m sorry.” It seemed a paltry offering in light of his raw emotion. “I guess it didn’t help to have me pile on.”
“It didn’t hurt me either,” he said, casting her a sideways glance. “I was being an ass. You called me on it. We’re square.”
God help her, she liked this Tanner. “Fair enough.”
After smothering a yawn, she took a long drink of the lemonade. She had some energy shots in her med kit if the tiredness persisted. This was the Tanner she’d sprawled with the night before, the Tanner who danced with her at the Silver Dollar, the Tanner who entertained her on so many levels.
So when he brought up the movie she’d been talking about the night before, she let him direct the conversation. From movies they turned to discussing music, then books. Through it all, the tension in Tanner’s manner bled away and he relaxed.
In between lulls in the conversation, she got up and checked on Missy. The mare had ceased pacing and had started to doze, though her contractions continued. As Missy slept, Jules and Tanner played cards. He was definitely a cardsharp, a talent he attributed to long hours of downtime with little else to do. Shortly after one in the morning, Missy resumed her restless pacing.
Jules and Tanner took turns standing watch, and talked. As the night stretched on, she discovered he enjoyed good old-fashioned American burgers and fries—food he didn’t get to eat a lot when he had been overseas. It turned out, he didn’t care for foods he couldn’t identify and really disliked anything green.
“There’s no such thing as tasting green.” She stared at him askance. “What does green even taste like?”
“My point exactly,” he said, then nodded to the hay bales stacked outside the stalls awaiting morning feed. “That’s green. Probably taste like it.”
“I’m not eating hay to prove what tastes green. Not to mention, I’ve had green beans, and peas and okra and spinach.” As she listed off the different vegetables, his face grew grimmer and grimmer until the corners of his mouth turned down.
“Nobody’s gonna box my ears if I don’t eat that food, so I don’t.” He said it with such finality that she started laughing.
“I wish you good luck with children, then, because they do need to eat vegetables, and so do you.”
“I’ll take that under advisement, Doc.”
Just then Missy let out a low whinny, and water splashed in her stall. Galvanized, Jules hurried over. Neither she nor Tanner tried to enter. It was best to let the mare handle her business unless she required assistance. They could be more distracting than helpful.
“How many foals has she had?” Tanner was all business. The laughter was gone from his face, and his expression became tense and serious.
“This will be her fourth. She’s lost two previously—one to a broken neck during or right after a bad delivery, which is why I’m here tonight—and the other to a stillbirth. Her first foal is the three-year-old you were riding today—Shadow.”
Tanner’s expression tightened. “They’re breeding her every year?” No judgment colored his tone.
“I don’t know the whole of the breeding program at the moment, but this is one of the surprise ones. They didn’t think she’d caught, and then she showed up pregnant. So they weren’t really ready for it.”
“Had you missed that she caught?” He gave her the side eye, and she wasn’t certain if it was simply teasing.
“I didn’t. They didn’t breed her on purpose.”
“Satan the stallion pay her a visit?”
Jules didn’t laugh, but she did nod. “He’s definitely got the escape-artist thing down. Seems like he can scent a mare in heat five miles away, but I’m afraid this one isn’t one of his. Satan wasn’t on the property when she caught. Pretty sure we’re dealing with a case of nature simply taking its course. Mares can jump fences too you know.” Though she had her suspicions. Only the Colonel, Ramon, or Mateo could have turned her out in a pasture too near one of the stallions.
“I think I need to get to know Satan. Sounds like a character.”
That was definitely one word for the stallion. He was very aptly named. Jules did privately think, though, that maybe it wasn’t Satan himself getting out, and there was a chance the Colonel kept forgetting to lock him in. On purpose. But she didn’t say anything because the Colonel had done right by her, and as much as she liked Tanner, it was only a supposition. There was no need to worry him further if it was just an ill thought on Jules’s part.
The mare had been lying down, but she began to rise, and though it was a struggle with her bulging belly, she made it to her feet.
“She’s having problems,” Jules stated calmly. No matter how anxious, yelling next to the horses would only startle them. “Grab my gear.” Then she was in the stall. Once the water broke, most mares delivered in short order. Jules focused wholly on catching the foal to avoid another broken neck. Missy was about to deliver.
Tanner didn’t waste time questioning her. He retrieved her bag and carried it to the stall.
Missy started pacing again, but at the first sign of hooves, Jules said, “Take her halter. Hold her.” She needed the mare to stand still, and there was still a danger she might kick. Without hesitation, Tanner got Missy to stand still, and then Jules caught the foal as it came out. Wet and slippery, she controlled the descent, and Tanner kept Missy from walking away.
The sack still clung to the foal, so Jules got the baby down, then backed off for a moment. As soon as she was clear, she nodded to Tanner. The mare glanced down at the baby and then began to turn—the umbilical cord was still attached, but she lowered her head to begin cleaning the foal—breaking the sac open herself.
Leaning against the wall, Jules watched through a haze of watery eyes as the mare tended her young. Within a couple of minutes, she settled once again on the straw and the foal began to look around and test its legs.
This was one of her favorite parts, and time seemed to suspend as the baby tried its strength against the world. Biting her lip, Jules glanced over at Tanner, who wore an expression that seemed to mirror her feelings. Slowly but surely, the filly got her feet beneath her and then she stood—all quivering legs and uncertainty. Missy rose as the foal did, then she whuffed and lipped at her baby.
Messy but thrilled, Jules eased over to the stall door. Then she and Tanner were outside. The baby had already begun to nurse. A long, dragged-out night had turned into a precious one. Stripping off her gloves, then unpinning her soiled overalls, Jules slid out of them and sighed. At least her shirt and shorts were clean.
“She did good,” Tanner said, admiration in his tone.
“Yeah, she did.” Pride mingled with relief. “These are my favorite kinds of cases—where I don’t have to do anything.”
“Hey,” he said, stroking a hand along her hair. “You did a lot more than nothing, Jules. You caught the baby. You saw what she needed, and you did it.”
Shrugging, she tried to shake off the compliment. “I wasn’t here alone.”
“I was just a tourist. She needed you,” Tanner repeated, and the quiet respect in his voice offered her even more of a compliment.
Rising on her tiptoes, she pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you.”
Pleasure reflected in his eyes, then he turned, picking Jules up and capturing her lips in a kiss that stormed her senses.
The electric contact seemed to ignite a fuse within her. Heat unfurled in her belly. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she opened to his sensual invasion. Maybe she could blame it on her exhaustion, or the meal, or even the way he’d made her laugh all night—or perhaps it was simply the birth of the beautiful foal that inspired her. In the end, Jules didn’t give a damn. She kissed him because he kindled a fierce craving in her. One only he seemed able to answer.
Her lips were still fused to his when the sound of a throat clearing intruded, and she drew her head back to catch her breath as a sharp voice sliced between them. “Well, now I see what’s keeping you here.”
Jules closed her eyes.
The Colonel.
Crap.