She heard a slight chuckle rise up from his throat. “It’s no different than any other part of the river, but sure. If you need to stop, we will.”

“I don’t need to stop. I want to.”

“Right.”

Carter led the way, guided by a descending blaze of sunshine. The rays lent a pinkish hue to the land and gleamed over the water. The air was heavy but the water invited. Macy’s horse automatically followed Duke, and within minutes-and Macy was counting-they reined in their horses. Carter swung his leg over the stallion and dismounted, gaining his footing easily in one fluid motion. He gave his horse a pat on the back then strolled over to her. Macy tried to duplicate his dismount, but her boot connected with the horse’s rump and Honey jostled slightly. Macy lost her balance, kicked the horse’s rump again and hung on to the saddle horn for dear life.

Carter was there to grab her before she fell to the ground. “Whoa, hang on.” His velvet voice slid over her.

Macy found herself in Carter’s arms, pressed against the hard planes of his chest as he lowered her. The toes of her boots touched the ground first, and she was sandwiched between Honey and the hunky cowboy. Her heart skidded to a stop. And it pissed her off. Darn him. He’d rescued her again. She stared into his eyes. It was a mistake. Instead of finding desire, she saw amusement twinkle in his eyes.

“Maybe you’re not as good with horses as you think you are.”

She removed her arms from his neck and gave him a little shove. “I am. I’ve been riding a long time.”

“When was the last time?” he asked, unfazed by her push.

“Oh, um. Let’s see.” She pondered a moment and then remembered. “It was three or four years ago.”

Carter pushed his hat farther up on his forehead and stared.

“Maybe five or six years ago.”

He held her gaze.

“Okay, it’s been about eight years ago, at least.”

Carter’s voice was smooth as silk. “Seems like I’ve forgotten more than you know about horses.”

She was still smarting from being held tightly in his arms. “Not true. I’m just rusty.”

Carter turned his back on her and she immediately rubbed her rump, trying to press out the knots and ease the sore spots. She was sure her bottom was raw.

“Remind me to give you a balm I’ve got back at the house. It’ll fix your pretty little butt all up.”

He whipped his head around and caught her just as she was removing her hand from her behind. He laughed.

“You’re enjoying this too much, Carter McCay.”

“I can honestly tell you, I am.”

He moved to the riverbank and bent to pick up a pebble. She saw him toss it far, skipping over water that was motionless. Ripples interrupted the calm and swept out in a large circle. It was soothing to watch.

“Doesn’t look like a wild river to me.”

“Not tonight it’s not. But it can be. Sometimes, the river fools you. It can become deadly when you least expect it.”

The sun faded on the horizon. Dusk was Macy’s favorite time of day, and they stood there quietly for a while as the light finally ebbed entirely.

“I like it here,” she said aloud.

Carter swiveled his head and their gazes met. “I knew you would.”

“But I can’t face another day of lounging around. I’m learning something about myself.”

“What’s that?”

“I don’t relax well. I need something to do.” The idea had come to her today when she’d been bored out of her mind. She’d been mulling it over ever since. She couldn’t expect Carter to entertain her every day. He had a business to run. And she promised him she wouldn’t be a burden. The solution would benefit them both. “Carter, you can tell me no, and I wouldn’t blame you at all, but I’d like to help you fix up the inn. I could use a project. And my services come cheap. I’m…free.”

Carter didn’t hesitate to answer. “No.”

“Why not?”

“I haven’t decided about the inn yet.”

“But, it’s perfect. You can’t still be thinking of tearing it down? Tell me you changed your mind about that.”

“I can’t tell you that. I’m not ready to make that decision.”

Macy crossed her arms so hard they jammed into her ribs. She eyed him carefully. “So that’s it.”

“I didn’t say that.”

It wasn’t what she’d meant. He was stubborn. That was his flaw. Lord have mercy. She almost did a happy dance, right there on the riverbank, under the moonlight. Carter was a stubborn mule.

She laughed and he sent her a look of astonishment. “Why are you laughing?”

She lifted a shoulder. “No reason,” she fibbed. Now she had a valid reason to hold on to when his image flashed through her mind at night right before she dozed off to sleep.

The cowboy wasn’t perfect.

What a relief.

He leaned close, skeptical. “You’re not going to argue with me about it?”

“Oh, I definitely will. I’m pretty relentless when I think I’m right.”

He frowned. “Which is most of the time, I take it.”

She smiled wide. “Of course.”


* * *

“Bye, Mara, and thanks again for lunch earlier,” Macy called out by the front doorway.

“You’re very welcome,” Mara answered from the kitchen.

Macy exited the house, looking like a country girl in Carter’s felt hat and a new pair of blue jeans. Late-afternoon sunshine made her squint, and she immediately plopped sunglasses onto the bridge of her nose. Marching past the corrals, she saw Henry speaking with one of the men. She waved to him and he tipped his hat then she turned her attention to the road leading to the inn.

Macy had met a few of the ranch hands over the past few days, and no one seemed to recognize her or make her feel out of place. They’d greet her with a smile or wave and then go about their business. Wild River seemed so remote and out of touch with the world she’d known that Macy felt completely at ease here.

Too much at ease. The walk would do her good. She was getting cabin fever, and her restlessness couldn’t be bottled up for much longer. With Carter gone all day on business in Dallas, there was only so much reading and sunbathing a girl could do.

Rocky raced out of the stables and caught up to her, his tongue hanging out of his mouth in a dog smile. “Hey, Rock. You’ll keep me safe from the snakes, right?”

He fell in step beside her. She didn’t know what she’d do without her trusty companion. He was good company for a lonely heart.

She walked briskly, hoping to burn calories, and hugged the path along the river as much as she could. She hadn’t forgotten about the snakes, but Macy wouldn’t let that stop her from taking a walk. She would tread cautiously and out in the open, avoiding brush and scrubs, keeping her eyes peeled. Mara had told her today most of the snakes on the property were harmless garden snakes. She’d lived in Wild River all of her life and had never encountered a diamondback. After that, Macy’s mind had been made up.

Carter’s longhorns were scattered on grazing land, and she could make out their horns even from this distance away. As she headed in the opposite direction of the herd, toward the inn, the powerful scent of cattle hide and dung faded.

“Your master is being stubborn, letting that wonderful house go to waste.”

She was drawn to the inn and hadn’t stopped thinking about it since Carter had shown it to her days ago. She’d hounded him every day about letting her refurbish it, but he wouldn’t relent. Something was holding him back, and he wasn’t talking.

She reached the inn unscathed and thanked Mara again for giving her encouragement. Rocky followed her inside and she walked around the dusty downstairs rooms again, envisioning the place in its heyday, when guests had stayed here. The parlor would have been lush, with velvet drapes and tufted chairs, the carpets woven in intricate patterns. Sidebars would have held the finest china and cut crystal. The place would have resembled a Texas palace. “It’s such a shame,” she whispered, her shoulders slumping.

Macy walked outside and found herself on the gazebo again, in the center of her would-be stage. With the river just yards away and giant oak trees lending shade to the area, creativity could blossom here. It was a place of inspiration.

A noise behind the trees startled her. Something was shuffling around. Rocky barked and fear froze her. The dog nestled between her legs, protecting her, his bark higher pitched now and more emphatic. Images of a big, eight-foot-long snake creeping its way through the hedges flashed in her mind.

She sunk down to her knees, holding on to Rocky, madly searching for the creature to appear. Her heart in her throat, she asked, “Who’s th-there?”

A man stepped out from behind a cropping of trees. “Sorry, ma’am. I didn’t mean to scare you.” The man shot Rocky a smile and the dog quieted.

He approached slowly, speaking with a kind voice. “I’m Bill Fargo. Mr. McCay hired me to look after the grounds.”

Macy breathed a sigh of relief and rose from her crouched position. The man wore a shirt and trousers the same hue as his thick gray hair. It wasn’t exactly a uniform, but it came close enough. “Oh.”

“Who are you?” he asked.

Macy stared at him.

“Sorry, ma’am.” He softened his tone. “I’m just doing my job.” He really did appear apologetic.

“My name is Macy. I’m Mr. McCay’s houseguest. I thought Carter said you were to be working at night?”

He turned his wrist and glanced at his watch. “From four in the afternoon until midnight.”

“Did you follow me here?”

He shook his head. “No. Just happened along at the same time. Is that your dog?”

“No, Rocky is Mr. McCay’s dog.”

Bending to Rocky’s level, Fargo put out his hand. Rocky crept over to him and carefully sniffed his fingers. “He’s a good watchdog.”