Page 28 of Falling for the Cowgirl
She caught it and wrapped it around the calf, her movements stiff from the mud. When she finished securing the animal, she shoveled away the sticky mixture as best she could. Then she straightened, grabbed on to the calf and the two slings, and gave him a nod.
He flicked the ropes and clicked at the horses. Both moved forward a step. The calf slid only a little, but it was enough.
“Rock it back and forth, and we’ll go slow.” Even before the words left his mouth, she was digging and pushing. She didn’t need his instructions, already knew what to do and was good at it. They inched the calf toward the edge of thebog, using the muscle power of the team of horses along with her shoveling and wiggling.
As the creature reached the shallow mud and pulled free, it gave an almost angry bellow. Once clear of the bog, it charged up the hill like it was under attack from a swarm of hornets, but it was only able to go so far with the ropes still attached to it.
Ivy followed after the calf more slowly, her shoulders sagging, her feet dragging. He could see exhaustion in her every movement. And no wonder. She’d probably been working to free herself and the calf for hours.
Heedless of the mud, he waded in and met her. Without asking for her permission, he scooped her off her feet and carried her like a baby.
“I’m fine, Jericho.” Her protest was weak, and she wrapped her arms around his neck to hang on.
He trudged through the sludge. Even though he’d only gone in up to his ankles, the mud was thick and tugged at his boots, trying to rip them from his feet. When they reached solid ground, he stumbled and sank to his knees. He sat back and brought her with him, positioning her on his lap.
For a moment, he couldn’t move, and her labored breathing mingled with his.
“You alright?” he whispered.
“I’ll be fine in a minute.” She laid her head against his shoulder.
The slime of mud coated him too, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was that he’d found her, that the mishap had been nothing more than poor judgment on her part, and that now she was safe in his arms.
The rest of the search party would be riding up at anysecond, but he needed this brief respite with her, needed to hold her just a fraction longer to reassure himself everything was okay.
Her warm exhalations brushed his neck. And she clung to him as if she never planned to let go.
He liked it. Liked holding her. Liked being near her. He rested his cheek against her head. Stiff mud coated her hair, but he closed his eyes and relished the sweet feel of her pressed against him.
“Didn’t reckon anyone would come searching for me tonight.” Her breathing was calmer.
“Guess you didn’t count on me wondering where you were.”
“Were you worried?” Her tone contained a note of teasing.
“Maybe a little.”
“Or maybe a whole lot?”
“I didn’t think you’d give up on earning that land by going to Flynn’s.”
“You’re right about that.”
At the fire returning to her voice, he smiled.
“Appreciate you a-comin’ after me. Would’ve been a long night standing there in the mud.”
“You’re welcome.”
As she relaxed into him, he grew suddenly conscious that one of his arms was still wrapped underneath her at the bend of her legs and was pressing into her backside ... a scantily clad backside.
He glanced down to find her bare lower legs and feet tucked up against him. Even covered in mud, there was no disguising the beauty of her endlessly long legs. Where was her skirt? It took another second before his mind registered the fact that she wasn’t fully dressed.
“Blast it all, Ivy.”
“What’s wrong?” Her face pressed into the crook of his neck, her mouth so close he could almost imagine her lips brushing his skin.
For a second he held his breath, his body keenly aware of each of her curves, his eyes drawn again to her thin legs, slender ankles, and pretty feet. He’d seen her feet plenty of times in the past since she’d always gone barefoot. But somehow seeing her like this was entirely different. She was different. Maybe he was. Or both.
