Page 14 of Rafe

“I suppose. Let’s head to the living room.”

“Okay.”

After an hour, Maggie looked at Fred. “Would you mind if I took a horse out?”

“Of course not. You know you can ride here anytime you’d like.”

“Do you want to go with me?”

“No, thanks, honey. If you’re going riding, I’m going to take a nap. I love my afternoon naps.” He grinned.

Maggie laughed. “Alright. I’ll probably take the Paint.”

“She’s your favorite, isn’t she?”

“Yes, she’s so gentle and just a beautiful horse.” Maggie stood, kissed Fred on the cheek, then headed toward the back door. “I’ll talk to you soon, Dad. I love you.”

“I love you too, honey. Be careful.”

“I will and I’ll take the walkie-talkie with me. Bye for now.”

Maggie stepped onto the porch, pulling the door closed behind her, then strode across the yard, her boots kicking up billows of dust. She entered the barn, then walked to the tack room, and lifted a saddle then walked back toward the stall and placed the saddle on the rail, then returned to the room to gatherthe rest of what she needed then headed back to the horse again.

She glanced around and hissed in a breath when she saw Rafe coming from a stall pushing a wheelbarrow… without a shirt. Her eyes locked onto his, and his steady gaze held hers in a magnetic pull. In that charged moment, every fiber of her being ached with desire, yet the fear of rejection threatened to shatter her confidence. When he tilted his head just slightly, a rush of heat flooded her cheeks, deepening them with a blush of longing. She watched as his eyes dropped to her breasts and mentally swore about not wearing a bra. When his eyes met hers again, a slow, enigmatic smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Maggie?” he asked, his voice low and rich as he reached for his T-shirt, hanging on a nail, then smoothly pulled it over his head, letting it fall languidly over his sculpted chest.

“Uh, I’m going riding. Fred said it was fine with him,” she replied, her voice betraying a tremor of both anticipation and anxiety.

“I see. Alright. Well, you know where everything is. Let me know if you need any help,” Rafe said, nodding with assurance.

“I thought you didn’t work on weekends?” she asked.

“I don’t, but one of the guys couldn’t make it today.”

“I see.”

Rafe stared at her a few seconds, then grasped the handles of the weathered wheelbarrow and pushed it out of the barn.

Maggie had always been irresistibly drawn to him, even though he had never shown any interest in her.

Standing in front of the stall, she watched him re-enter the barn. He steered the wheelbarrow into the toolroom. Stepping out once more, he removed his well-worn hat, slapped it against his thigh and sending a flurry of dust and straw swirling in the light streaming through the barn.

He moved almost directly toward her until he paused abruptly, catching sight of her, then he slipped off his leathergloves and stuffed them into a pocket at the back of his jeans, folded his strong arms across his broad chest as his gaze never wavered from hers. Maggie, gathering her courage, cleared her throat, inhaled deeply, and exhaled slowly before she asked, “Will you go with me?”

The surprise that flickered across his face spoke louder than words; he hadn’t expected her invitation. “Go with you?” he echoed; his tone tinged with confusion.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to,” she quickly reassured, a slight shrug punctuating her earnest admission. “I just thought that after working on the stalls, a ride might feel good.” With that, she turned away and opened the gate to the stall. Attaching a lead to the horse, she led the mare out into the open.

Surveying the area, she didn’t catch sight of Rafe anywhere. A lump of hope and disappointment tightened in her throat, forcing her to blink back tears as she realized his absence was a silent rebuke of her invitation.

Just then, while she was tossing the saddle onto her horse’s back, she glanced over her shoulder. Rafe was emerging from another stall, leading his own horse into the barn’s aisle. Soon, he saddled his horse, Rocket, a chestnut beauty with glossy coat, striking black legs, mane, and tail, mounted him and began riding him directly toward her.

Rafe looked impeccable astride Rocket, a living portrait of rugged grace. She hid a grin as she mounted her horse, then nudged the mare with her knees. As they rode side by side through the expansive pastures, Maggie lifted her gaze to the vast, clear blue sky, unmarred by even a wisp of cloud.

“How about stopping by the pond? Rocket could use a drink,” Rafe suggested.

“Sure,” Maggie agreed with a nod, and together they rode toward one of the property’s serene ponds, its water shimmering like a liquid mirror under the gentle caress of the sun.

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