Page 13 of Deputy Brand Gets Her Man
She squeezed with her heels and clicked her tongue, and Starlight started off at a bone-jarring trot.
Jeremiah was behind her in the saddle, right up tight. And the bouncing motion of the horse…
She eased the mare into an easy walk, but that was almost worse, that slow, rhythmic rocking. Her breath stuttered out of her and she relaxed back against Jeremiah’s chest without even meaning to.
“I’m sorry about all that,” he said. His voice was deep, and she felt it resonating inside his chest, because her back was resting there. “I’d have never used you as an alibi like that, but I figured your mom already knew, so?—”
“I’d have told them if you hadn’t, whether my mother had seen us or not,” she said. “It stinks, you having to account for yourself like that just because you’re an ex-con.”
“You don’t believe Garrett about the anonymous tip?” he asked, and he sounded surprised.
She twisted in the saddle to look back at him. “Oh, I totally believe him. He wouldn’t lie about somethin’ like that. Besides, he likes you.”
“Then it wasn’t because I’m an ex-con,” he said.
She shrugged. “The anonymous tip might’ve been. Somebody in town might be jumpin’ to conclusions, judgin’ you, maybe even to the point it fools their own eyes.”
“Or they just don’t like me and are setting me up.”
She looked back again, frowning this time. “Nobody in Quinn would do that. You’re Ethan’s brother.”
He shrugged. “Maybe to some, that loose link to the exalted Brand clan doesn’t outweigh prison time.”
“I don’t think most folks in town know you did a year at Huntsville, Jeremiah.”
He was quiet for a beat too long. Then he said, “You checked up on me.”
She realized she’d given it away. He’d never told her which prison. “Yeah, I did. I admit it.”
He sighed. She felt the wind exit his chest. Then he said, “You could’ve just asked me whatever you wanted to know.”
“And you would’ve told me the truth?”
“Maybe. Maybe not, but that would be up to me, wouldn’t it?”
She didn’t like that answer. It wasn’t the one she wanted. “I’m sorry I went behind your back. But I’m going to make it up to you.”
He bent his head a little, so he spoke close to her ear. “I’d really like that?—”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Then he nibbled her ear.
The jolt of sensation arrowed from where his teeth nipped, straight to her core. She kicked the mare’s sides and launched her into a full-on gallop toward home. It had been reflexive, like he’d hit her in the knee with a hammer.
He held on tight, and that felt great. When they arrived at the stables, she slid off the mare’s back before he could. He dismounted right after.
Able, their stable foreman took the reins from her. “I’ll rub her down, Miz Willow. You’ve got comp’ny.” And then he nodded toward Jeremiah, touching his hat brim. “Mr. Thorne.”
The Gringo nodded back.
“Thanks, Able. Mom’s thermos and coffee mugs are in the saddle bag. Will you set ‘em aside someplace safe for her? Come with me, Jeremiah.”
His eyebrows shot up as she led the way from the stable back up the long twisting, forked driveway toward her little cottage on the ranch.
Every part of Jeremiah from his follicles to his toenails lit up when she said she had something for him and led him back to her cabin. Her long, energetic strides told him she was in a hurry. He hadn’t expected her to be so obvious about it in front of the hired man, though. He was still a pace behind her, and he didn’t rush to catch up, first because he enjoyed watching the swing of her hips in those jeans, but only for a second. It was the wind whipping her hair to one side that was more interesting. She almost always had it up for work. He didn’t think he’d fully appreciated how long it was until just then.
She glanced back at him. “Are you lookin’ at my butt?”
