Cowboy Enchantment - By Pamela Browning Page 0,29

Dimity. There were also stalls for Stilts and Twiggy and Shawnee.

The horse named Sebastian was in his stall, and because she recalled Hank’s telling Justine that Sebastian was the bane of his existence, she moved closer for a better look. He was a handsome horse, square-jawed and maybe fifteen and a half hands high.

“What a gorgeous animal,” she murmured almost to herself. Sebastian had a glossy coat and a long black mane. His only marking was a diamond-shaped white patch that was almost covered by his forelock.

“He’s a four-year-old stallion and a lot to handle,” Hank said.

Taking note of the way Sebastian nosed over the top of his stall toward Hank, Erica said, “He seems to like you.”

“He was trained correctly early on, but for some reason, now he bites. He bucks and even tries to scrape me off under low-hanging tree branches. But we’re getting along pretty well.” Hank stroked Sebastian’s velvet nose.

“I’m glad someone gets along with that fool horse.”

Erica turned as a rangy dark-haired man strode into the stable. He was wearing dusty jeans and worn boots, and his hat was pushed back on his head.

“Erica, this is Cord McCall, the ranch manager. Cord, Erica is Justine’s friend.”

Steady eyes met hers. “Glad to meet you. I hope you’re enjoying your stay.”

“I’ve only been here a couple of days, but so far, it’s great.”

“Good. Hank, I’ll be away tonight. I’d appreciate it if you’d make sure to tell the hands to ride out and check on those broodmares tomorrow morning if I’m not back in time.”

“Sure thing.”

Cord afforded Hank an abrupt nod, said, “Glad to meet you, ma’am,” and hurried out of the stable toward the ranch pickup.

“Broodmares? You breed horses here?”

“Some. That’s why Justine keeps Sebastian around. She thinks he’s good breeding stock.” Hank shrugged.

“Cord doesn’t seem too friendly,” Erica said as they watched the pickup disappear down the road pulling a cloud of dust.

“He wasn’t hired to be friendly to guests. He was hired to run the working end of the ranch and has a lot on his mind. Come on, if we’re going for a ride, we’d better be on our way, since Justine may tire of babysitting Kaylie earlier than she thinks.”

She moved away from Sebastian’s stall and approached Melba. Hank cupped his hands for her foot, preparing to take her weight for as long as it took her to swing her other leg up and over the saddle. She inserted her foot in the place he had made for it, but before she could boost herself up into the saddle, Hank looked deep into her eyes. She had momentarily forgotten that she wore her new blue contact lenses, and she was unprepared for the expression of confusion that flitted across Hank’s strong features.

When she was mounted and looked back down at him, he was staring at her openmouthed.

“You look so…different,” he said.

She had carefully contoured her eyes with shadow and eyeliner the way Tico had shown her. The subtle use of blush emphasized her cheekbones and gave her chin a more rounded look. She smiled, trying to pass the comment off as lightheartedly as she could. “That,” she said, “is the idea of a makeover, isn’t it?”

He continued to look thoughtful. “I guess so,” he said, and then he went to tighten the girth on his own horse, a roan gelding that patiently waited near the opening to the corral. The horse shied a little when Hank started to mount him.

“Steady, Whip,” Hank said, reining the horse around so that he could see her. “Give Melba a little nudge with your heels and a slight slap with the reins. That’s right. Now remember all you learned yesterday, and let’s just amble along out of the corral.” Hank looked brutally handsome in that moment.

As he bent down to undo the gate latch, Erica admired the athletic precision of his movement, the sinewy hands, his concentration on his task. She was painfully aware that he had said she looked different. Not better. Only different.

She certainly felt different. She felt…noticeable. And this time, she felt noticeable for her looks, not her brains. And she liked not wearing glasses. It was good not to have to keep pushing them higher on her nose. Without glasses to hide behind, she felt right out there with other people. With Hank.

“The scenery around here is unexpected,” she said, taking in the purple hills, the snowcapped mountains beyond and the burnished blue sky overhead.

“Unexpected?”

“Remarkable.”

“I suppose that’s a good way to describe