The Lone Rancher - By Carol Finch Page 0,31
right smack-dab on his lips.
There, thought she. That should quell any rumors of a hostile feud between them. “We came as soon as we saw the fire, Quin,” she said loudly.
She met those silver-gray eyes that were fringed with thick black lashes and she saw a faint smile crease his lips. Despite the heavy five-o’clock shadow that rimmed his jaw, he looked irresistibly attractive. Of course, she’d realized how vulnerable she’d become to the man several days ago—which is why they had ended up tumbling around in the grass and she’d been unable to keep her hands off him.
“Thanks, Boston. We appreciate your help.”
He dropped a quick kiss to her lips, grabbed the gunny sack from her hand, then jogged off to beat down the flames. She fell into step behind him to toss aside the potential kindling of fallen branches. They worked tirelessly side by side for an hour to ensure the embers had cooled so flames wouldn’t erupt later to destroy the shadowy grove the cattle favored to beat the blistering summer heat.
“I’m grateful for the extra help!” Quin called to Adrianna’s cowboys. “If you have an emergency, my men and I will gladly return the favor.” He glanced around the area. “I just hope this grass fire isn’t a diversion for other destructive activities, like the butchered calf we found on my north pasture.”
Adrianna blinked in surprise while the cowboys mumbled in speculation about who’d done the deed.
“I also noticed the adjoining fence had been cut a mile north of here. No doubt, a gang of rustlers is preying on our area, so everyone on both sides of the fence will have to remain on guard. I don’t want to lose men or cattle to bloodthirsty thieves.”
He cupped Adrianna’s elbow to usher her toward her saddle horse. “Come on, Boston, let’s check another stretch of fence to make sure no one has been up to more mischief.”
While Rocky Rhodes led Boston’s employees back to her ranch, Quin asked his fire volunteers to drive the cattle he’d collected to the corrals for branding.
When they were alone, Quin scooped her up in his arms, set her on her mount, then asked, “What was that unexpected kiss about, Boston?”
“You’re an intelligent man, figure it out, Cahill.”
He nodded his shaggy head, then reminded himself he was in need of a haircut. He wondered if Elda was as handy with scissors as she was with spoons and spatulas. Otherwise, he’d have to ride into town to seek out the barber.
“I suppose you thought you were quelling gossip about your involvement in my suspicious fire,” he said as he stuffed his foot in the stirrup and swung onto Cactus’s back.
She scraped a recalcitrant strand of chestnut hair away from her sooty face and Quin battled the urge to lean over and kiss her again. But he was reluctant to become as sappy as Otha Hadley—who had visions of happily-ever-after with Zoe Daniels dancing in his head. Boston made it clear on several occasions that she didn’t trust the motives of men.
Not that he blamed her for being a cynical heiress, mind you. He’d had his share of manipulative fathers and mothers shoving their eligible daughters under his nose because the Cahills had money, influence and property. You never knew who was sincere and who had dollar signs in his eyes when money was involved. As for Boston, she was on a crusade to establish her independence and prove her ability to run a ranch. She resented a man telling her what to do.
Quin already knew firsthand how well that went over.
“What are you grinning about, Cahill?” she questioned. “Someone tried to burn down your pasture and barbecue a few calves. Nothing amusing about that.”
He studied her sooty face and the dark braid that tumbled over her shoulder to lie temptingly against her breast. He groaned inwardly, remembering how it felt to skim his hands and lips over her lush flesh and feel her arch toward him.
She snapped her fingers in his face to grab his attention. “What is wrong with you, Cahill? Sleep deprived?”
Something else deprived, he thought, then said, “No, just distracted by thoughts of our last encounter on the very site someone set this fire.”
His comment caused her face to go up in flames. “You should know that was out of character for me,” she mumbled, avoiding his direct stare.
“Momentary lapse of sanity?” he supplied helpfully, then smiled because being with her and playfully teasing her made him happy. Not as