Worth the Risk_ A Contemporary - Megan Hart Page 0,14

half of his body was going to split right in two.

"My family's been coming here to Bramblewood since before I was born. My grandparents had their honeymoon here." Laila ducked to escape a low-hanging clump of branches. They were entering another patch of trees. "This is the first time I've been here in about four or five years, though."

Hal rocked in the saddle again to ease the pressure. "What kept you away?"

"Oh, you know." Laila kept her eyes on the trail ahead. "I was busy with my job, didn't get vacation time right away, moved into a new apartment. Stuff like that."

He could tell by the tense set of her jaw that there was more to her story and suspected it might have something to do with the boyfriend who'd died. He also knew better than to push her. Creating casual conversation wasn't one of his better skills, and diving into a topic that so obviously upset her would only be asking for trouble.

"I do love my family," she said almost defensively. As though he'd insinuated that she didn't. "But they just--they just won't leave me alone."

"They just want to see you happy." Hal knew that without a doubt. Love for each other shone in every Alster face, unlike in his family where holiday dinners had often disintegrated into shouting matches or cold, stony silences.

Laila snorted. "Yeah, I know. And I hate to keep disappointing them."

Despite the sun rising in the sky, the air here was chill with the promise of winter. Under the trees, the shadows were even cooler. Hal was glad he'd packed his thick fleece pullover and pants. The horses plodded along the trail, one sometimes moving slightly ahead of the other, but generally the path was wide enough for them to keep pace.

"You think they're disappointed in you?" He asked. "Because--you're not happy?"

Slashes of sunlight cut through the shadows, and when Laila passed beneath them, they lit her face in bars of black and gold. She'd pulled her thick, dark hair back beneath a baseball cap today. Her deep purple field coat had collar and cuffs of green corduroy, which matched her pants. Instead of cowboy boots, she wore low-heeled brown boots that laced, and she tucked her feet into the stirrups with a practiced ease Hal envied. His own feet, laced into hiking boots, weren't nearly as comfortable.

"Why would you say that?" she asked sharply. Her eyes flashed when she turned to look at him. "I'm happy!"

Hal backed off a little. "Sure. Okay."

She looked back at the trail ahead and kicked her horse to speed it up. "We're almost at the end. They'll be waiting for us."

Stanley, following Daisy, also picked up the pace. Hal groaned as each trotting step forced even more agony into his chafed skin and strained muscles. Laila urged Daisy even faster along the now smooth trail. Hal could see the barn just beyond the curve ahead. Apparently, Stanley could, too, because the massive gelding suddenly broke into a full trot.

All Hal could do was hang on for the ride. The horses seemed to thunder down the dirt path, heading for the corral. Hal could see the others had already begun to dismount or let their horses drink from the huge vats of water placed around the stable yard.

Hal gritted his teeth, gripping as best he could with thighs from which he could no longer feel anything but constant agony. His fingers slipped through the leather reins as Stanley tossed his head, eager to get back to his box and feed. Daisy and Laila were up ahead, already slowing as Laila guided the horse toward one of the mounting blocks.

"Whoa," Hal muttered through grunts of pain. "Whoa!"

Either Stanley didn't hear, or he didn't understand. The horse kept going. Now Hal began to lose sensation in his legs all together as Stanley picked up speed for the last final dash into the corral. The reins slipped again, flopping against the horse's neck in a way that seemed to urge him on even faster.

With one final, heaving effort, Hal managed to gather the reins, grip with his legs, and dig his feet into the stirrups. "Whoa!"

The horse whoa'ed all right, coming to a dead stop that sent clods of earth flying up from its hooves. The problem wasn't that the horse stopped. It was that Hal kept going.

"You're sure lucky you landed in the watering trough," Michael told Hal. He shook his head in male camaraderie and amazement. "Man, I never saw someone