Accidental Hero. Loralee Lillibridge

biggest fool.

      As she walked toward him, Bo was reminded again of the reason he left Sweet River and what his reckless decision back then had cost him. He should have tried harder to understand Abby’s reasons for refusing to go with him. Maybe if he’d listened to her instead of stubbornly refusing to compromise, he and Abby would be a happy married couple by now.

      And that thought, along with other notions crossing his mind as she approached the truck caused sensations he’d rather not acknowledge. But his physical reaction was impossible to ignore. He was only human, after all. And his jeans were suddenly unable to accommodate his uncomfortable response. Thankfully, he was still in the truck since a cold shower wasn’t an option right then.

      Abby stopped and rested her hand on the open window, her eyes bright, questioning. He remembered those bewitching blue depths. Deep enough for a man to get lost in. Perceptive enough to find the hidden truth beneath his scarred exterior if he wasn’t careful. The very reason he didn’t want to be here. He lived every day with the painful knowledge that he’d never stopped loving her, but there was no way he could tell her that now. No everlasting way.

      Abby wasn’t quite sure what made her decide to approach the truck and its occupant. Maybe she was just a glutton for punishment. Then again, maybe it was because Bo looked so uncomfortable in the noonday heat, and she felt obligated to offer him the hospitality of her shaded porch. Oh, who was she kidding? She just plain wanted to see him again. No excuses, no sane reason. Just wanted to. And maybe if she talked to him like a responsible adult, she could put a final closure on the crack in her heart, instead of the temporary bandage she’d been using.

      With her heart in her throat, she greeted him. “Hello, Bo. I wasn’t expecting to see you again.”

      “You can blame Shorty for that,” he grumbled. “I didn’t know he was headed here, or I wouldn’t have come with him.” He turned to stare out the opposite window.

      “Oh, really?” Like he didn’t know the way to her place. Did he think she was stupid? Well, she’d show him it didn’t really matter to her one way or the other. She would treat him the same as she would anyone else who happened to stop by. Courteous and no more.

      “Since you’re here, you might as well get out of the heat.” Trying to be cordial while talking to the back of his head challenged her genuine inclination to be polite. And Bo wasn’t helping matters by refusing to look her way. He kept his face turned and his darn hat pulled so low, she wondered how he could even see anything but the underside of the brim.

      “No thanks, I’ll just wait here,” he said. “Don’t know what Shorty wanted to see Buck about. He told me somebody had some horses to take care of, but guess he made a mistake. Doesn’t look like you need help around here. Not with those worn-out nags in your pasture. You’d be further ahead to sell them instead of paying out good money for feed.”

      “That’s all you know, Ramsey.” Abby bristled at his condemning observation of her wonderful four-legged friends. “Those horses are a vital part of a very important riding program. Don’t criticize before you understand what you’re talking about.”

      “A riding program?” He turned to her, and she realized she’d piqued his interest enough to make him forget his scars, at least for the moment. Then it dawned on her—a sneaking suspicion of why Shorty had brought him here. If anyone knew horses, it was Bo, but that didn’t mean she wanted him here. She wasn’t sure she was strong enough to face the possibility of having him around on a day-to-day basis and not be tempted to hash over old memories. Did she even want to?

      Looking at him, she could understand his reluctance to expose himself to public scrutiny, yet the scars didn’t keep her legs from going goofy or her pulse from singing karaoke at the sound of his voice. His crooked leg and awkward gait didn’t detract from his seductive Texas charm. No, there was nothing scary about Bo except the fact that he still had the power to hurt her. Deep in her heart, she acknowledged that secret and vowed to keep those longings and desires to herself. After all, he was a married man.

      Still, his experience around horses would be a tremendous help and relieve Pop of some of his workload. To do or not to do? Was it worth the chance? Pop could sure use the extra pair of hands.

      “Have you ever heard of using horses to help children with physical and emotional problems, Bo?” Her question slid out on the deep end of a sigh as she grabbed the door handle. “Come over to the porch where it’s cooler, and I’ll tell you about it.”

      Without waiting for him to object, or for the chance to change her own mind, Abby opened the door, squinting against the noon brightness. “It’s too hot to stand out here in the sun. I won’t offer you a beer, but I’ve got cold, sweet tea already made.”

      She started to help him out of the truck, then thought better of it, remembering how he’d shot out of the café parking lot on Saturday. She stepped aside to give his male pride a wide berth. Holding her breath might not help, but she did it anyway.

      He reached for the sunglasses in his shirt pocket and settled them on his nose.

      “You’re right, it is too hot to sit out here,” he said, surprising her with his swift agreement. “And I haven’t had honest-to-God sweet tea in a helluva long time.”

      He eased out one leg, then the other, until he was standing outside the truck. After a moment’s hesitation when he hung onto the door for balance, he followed her to the shaded porch.

      The shuffle of his uneven stride as he dragged his leg along the walk made her slow her own pace. But when his labored breathing sent a warm puff of air to tickle the back of her neck, it was all she could do to keep from breaking into a run.

      Chapter Four

      By the time she returned from the kitchen, Bo was lounging in a wicker chair near the porch steps. The sight of him sitting there looking right at home made her insides turn as cold as the ice cubes in the frosted glass she handed him. If only her hand would stop shaking. Her nerves were giving her fits lately.

      “Much obliged,” Bo said and reached for the glass.

      His fingers brushed hers. Warm, callused fingers. Sensual fingers. Abby abruptly hurried away to sit on the steps. Why, oh, why did I do this?

      An awkward silence, broken only by the sound of ice clinking on the sides of their glasses, hung between them.

      Abby fidgeted.

      Mosquitos buzzed.

      Bo inspected his drink. Cleared his throat. “So, what’s this horse therapy thing you’ve got going?”

      Abby’s head snapped around. He was watching her through those damned dark glasses, and she stifled the urge to reach over and yank them right off his face. She hated being unable to see his eyes.

      “Not therapy for horses, Bo. Therapy for anyone with special needs. Children, mostly, but there are a couple of young adults, also.” Slowly, deliberately, she emphasized each word. “It’s designed to give a sense of accomplishment and strength to the students. To make them proud of their achievement. Some have never walked, some have emotional as well as physical difficulties to overcome, but here with the horses, they’re no different from anyone else. Riding puts them on an equal basis. It helps them focus and learn to concentrate, not to mention that it builds self-confidence. There are numerous advantages to the program.”

      She paused to catch her breath, realizing she must sound like an evangelist for the cause. “Sorry, sometimes I get carried away.”

      Bo inclined his head. “And you accomplish all that by letting them ride horses?”

      She struggled to keep her voice calm against the veiled pessimism in his question. She’d learned a long time ago that arguing with him never accomplished a darn thing.

      “It’s more than just the riding. They learn about responsibility by taking part in the care of the animals, by remembering to put the tack away after their ride, by learning to give commands as well