Page 22 of Wrangled Up

“I don’t know.” With a shake of his head, he grasped her forearm and led her down the steps and across the grounds to the barn.

“We should let the chickens out first. They need to get a start on their scavenging for the day, and that will give me a chance to gather eggs without them coming after me. That big rooster can be mean.”

He changed paths, Claire’s wrist still in his grip. The fine bones under his fingers shifted, muscles tensed. He let her go.

I haven’t kissed her. She isn’t mine.

By the time they reached the chicken coop, the rain had plastered her hair to her skull. The wet ends curled, giving her a whimsical appearance.

“Sorry—should have gotten you a hat.” He opened the door of the coop and chickens flooded out, clucking and pecking before they hit the turf, which was full of bugs and seeds that comprised their diet.

The rooster made a rush at him, and he sent a boot out as a reflex.

“Don’t hurt him!” Claire dove between the chicken and Christian. The bird squawked and skittered away, following his harem into the grass.

Smooth. Saved by a girl.

Wiping a drop of water off his jaw, he located the egg basket. After five minutes, the basket was brimming. What the hell did Tucker do with all of these eggs? No man, even a hungry one, could consume that many.

“He must sell these or give them away,” Claire mused as she tried to balance one more egg on the top.

“I’m not sure.”Now what?

“We’ll just put these on the porch and then see to the horses, okay?” She turned her face up to his, lip caught in her teeth. A deep-seated ache took up residence in his chest at the sight of her blatant pain. Tucker had reclaimed her, only to leave her again.

And from what Christian knew about Claire, she wasn’t the type of girl to burst into tears. No, she went and found herself a weapon instead.

In the barn, she moved gingerly from stall to stall, talking quietly to the horses and tipping pellets into their buckets. He took his cues from her, moving slowly so as not to frighten the animals.

“You ever ridden?” she asked.

“Couple times.” But he didn’t know tack from the sharp kind that got stuck in the sole of his boot.

She reached the final stall. “These are Tucker’s prized horses used for breeding. But there are a lot running free in the fields. We need to check on their troughs, make sure they’ve got enough water. It’s raining like crazy, but it would take a day of rain to provide enough water for this amount of horses.”

“He’s got a big tank in the back of an old pickup out back.”

She nodded. “That’s what we need.”

Christian put her into the truck, but she crowded against the passenger door, too far away. After last night, his emotions were in a jumble. She felt like his, but she wasn’t. No, she was Tucker’s, and his friend had abandoned her.

She turned her face to the window. Silence stretched.

How could Christian bring her back to him? To let go of this girl meant he might never see her again. She would drift away in a fog of pain—pain they both felt.

He opened his mouth to speak, but words tumbled from her. “Ever notice that the smallest birds sing the prettiest songs?”

The windows were up and the rain would keep the birds tucked into their nests, so the question caught him off guard. He searched the landscape for signs of a bird. Then he realized she might be talking about something entirely different.

“Tucker…he doesn’t talk a lot.”

Instant understanding took him. How Christian “got her” was beyond him, but it was as if he channeled her meaning. Tucker was far from a small man—his body, personality, presence—all larger than life. But he kept to himself, so he had the ability to blend into the background. But when he did unglue his lips, he had something important to say.Either that, or he fucking rocked someone’s world, yanking him in with a growled apology or sexual command.

What did he say to Claire when they were alone? Had he told her that he loved her?

Christian reached across the seat and caught a wet curl between his fingers. He gave it a slight tug, and she looked at him. “We’ll water these horses then check on Boomerang.”

That brought a smile to her lips. “I’ve never really cared for an alpaca before. I grew up on my aunt’s farm, but we only had a few animals. Nothing like this.” She swept a hand in front of her to indicate the rolling land Tucker owned.

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