“You said you did. That night at the bar. You told me you were a firefighter. Or was that a line you use to hit on women?”
I huff out a long breath. She’s unbelievable. “That wasn’t a line. I’m a trained firefighter because I do volunteer fighting. It’s common in small towns. You assumed the rest, Duchess. I had no idea you were looking for a firefighter fantasy, but good to know.”
“I do not have a firefighter fantasy.”
I smirk. “Whatever you say.”
She closes her eyes, frustrated. She’s pretty that way too, and I need to stop noticing.“Guess I made an assumption. That's unlike me. But you shouldn’t assume either. I had no idea you wrote thirty letters. My grandparents have been in charge of this place, and they…haven’t exactly kept their eye on the ball.”
“Yeah, I noticed.”
She’s feisty as hell, but that won’t help her ankle, which I can already see is swollen and painful.
“Can I at least get you to urgent care to get your ankle checked out? It looks like it might be sprained or even worse.”
“You a doctor in your spare time too?”
I huff my frustration. “You can’t walk on it, and I don’t see a lot of other options.”
She looks down at where it’s already a little purple. “I guess, yeah. I came down pretty hard when the dirt gave way.”
“Tell me what you were doing looking over the hill behind my property.”
“Like I said, I wanted to see why the asshole next door would care about our underground aquifer enough to sue over it.”
“You come to any conclusions?”
“Seems like you use a lot of water, from the looks of things.”
“It’s called farming. And it’s complicated, thanks to a bunch of arcane rules.”
I put an arm around her and help her to her feet, moving more slowly this time to keep her weight off the ankle. She leans on my forearm, gripping me gently with both hands, but as soon as she takes a step, her fingers dig in. I can tell she’s in pain.
“Easy…” My hand grips her shoulder, and she leans into me, barely putting weight on her injured foot.
“Good girl. Go slow.” She looks up at me through her long lashes and messy strands of hair. I tuck one tendril behind her ear, aware that I’m taking any excuse to have my hands on her. Her head tips against my chest, and I catch a whiff of mint and rosemary that takes me back to our night together.
Maybe I walk slower than necessary over to Dolly.
Keeping my arm around Tessa, I scoop her up, slide my arm underneath the backs of her legs, and lift her over the saddle of my horse so she’s sitting side saddle, her knees pulled together like a dainty princess. Then I pull off her shoes and chuck them into the field.
She looks at me, confused. “Hang on, what just happened?” She looks around as though she doesn't know how she ended up on top of my horse. I slide a leg over the saddle and sit behindher, guiding her body so she leans against my chest. “What are you doing?”
“I’m giving you a ride like I said.”
“On a horse?” she asks.
“Yeah. That's what we do out here, city girl. Horses are faster than cars most of the time when you’re dealing with bridal paths.”
“But, but…” She sputters out syllables but doesn’t get to the point. She looks down with eyes so wide she might as well be secured to a mountain top with a string of dental floss.
“You afraid of heights, Duchess?”
“No.” She chews her bottom lip. “Afraid of horses. I went to sports summer camps intentionally to avoid them.”
I almost laugh because Dolly would rather lick a person than bite, but I can see how worried she is. “It’s true, what they say about horses. They’re more afraid of you, than you are of them. Tessa, meet Dolly. She’s the sweetest horse you’ll ever know. Nicer than most humans I’ve come across, and she almost never bucks women off the saddle.”
“Almost never?” She scrambles toward me and clings to my arm. I try to ignore the zing that rips over my skin where she’s touching me. “Never, Duchess. And I’d take the fall long before I’d let you have anything but a soft landing. If you can bring yourself to trust me.”