Archer's Angels. Tina Leonard

and Tonk slid her nose under the woman’s fingers. “I understand, girl. Men can be very trying.”

      “Are you trying to do that horse-talking thing?” Archer asked. “I don’t use horse psychology. I mean, I talk to Tonk, but I’m really just amusing myself. I don’t believe we’re actually communicating—”

      Her eyebrows raised. She stared at him, her gaze challenging. Disbelieving?

      Something about that attitude caught Archer’s attention. He looked at her more closely, finally seeing behind the specs.

      “Those are beautiful eyes you’re hiding.”

      Chapter Two

      “Thank you,” Clove said, “I think.”

      He looked at her. “No, really. You have lovely eyes. Very unique color.”

      She was torn between feeling flattered, giving in to worry, or pulling out her tricks. He was, after all, the key player in her plan.

      “What’s your name, stranger?” he asked.

      “Clover,” she said, thinking quickly, not yet ready to reveal her identity.

      “Clover? Is that a real name or are you making one up just to keep your distance?”

      “It’s a real name.” Just not hers.

      He frowned. “You don’t look like a Clover.”

      “I’d ask you what I do look like, but I don’t want to know.” She leaned over into the stall. “Oh, Tonk has blue hooves,” she said. “I think blue hooves on a horse are so pretty.”

      He narrowed his gaze on her. “Know a little something about horses, do you?”

      “A little. My family owns a farm.” Clove glanced up at him. “We raise horses.”

      “Oh? Where’s the farm? The Jeffersons know just about everyone in the business.”

      “Well, you wouldn’t know us,” Clove said. “Our farm is not doing as well as one might hope.”

      “Sorry to hear that.” He turned his attention back to Tonk, who was still nuzzling at Clove’s fingers.

      “Oh, Archer!” Feminine voices floated into the stall.

      Clove turned to see four beautiful girls walk by with flirtatious glances for Archer. She turned back around in time to see Archer’s chest puff out about four inches.

      “Hey, ladies,” he called. “Nice winter weather, huh?”

      They giggled. “We’ve got some hot cocoa when you feel like warming up,” one girl said.

      Another nodded. “And some of our special potion tastes good on a freezing night. Madame Mystery’s—”

      “Yes, yes,” Archer said hurriedly. He waved them on. “You girls behave. Get inside before you all catch colds.”

      Laughing, they waved mittened fingers at him and moved on after casting him one last alluring glance.

      Clove blinked. “They practically undressed you en masse.”

      He laughed. “Yeah. They’re good at that.”

      And he had no shame! Clove quickly reviewed her position. Maybe mano a mano she could get his attention, but groupie corralling put the odds against her. Not to mention that those women were gorgeous.

      “They mean no harm,” he said easily, “as long as they get no closer than about ten feet.”

      “How do you know?”

      He winked at her. “Women are not hard to figure out.”

      She held back a gasp at his cockiness. “You haven’t figured out your horse.”

      “And that’s why I love only her.” He gave Tonk an affectionate pat on the shoulder, and she tried to nail him with a hoof. Swiftly jumping forward, he dodged the hoof, but Tonk’s head snaked around, her teeth barely missing his shoulder.

      “I guess you’d call that a love peck,” Clove said.

      “Aw, Tonk wouldn’t really bite me. She just knows I like a little sauce to my women.”

      “Women?”

      He grinned, pushing his hat back with a finger.

      He was annoying, and much sexier than he’d come across in his e-mails. She needed a shower to freshen up after her travels, and time to regroup. “I think I’ll be going now,” she said, retreating from his confident smile.

      “Thanks for the dinner offer,” he said, “But Tonk and I have work to do.”

      Now that she’d seen him turn down the quartet of country lovelies, her feelings weren’t quite so hurt, so she was able to flip him a shrug. “About that hotel you were going to recommend?”

      “There’s no hotel in Lonely Hearts Station, but both beauty salons welcome travelers. Head over to the Lonely Hearts Salon. The owner, Delilah, has rooms for rent. You’ll be safe over there.” His gaze settled on Clove for a moment, then he put the horse’s hoof down and came over to the rail, leaning on it to stare down at her. “Do not take a room at the Never Lonely Cut-n-Gurls salon. Even though you will see a big sign out front proclaiming that theirs are the cheapest, cleanest, most comfortable rooms in town.”

      She backed away from his intensity. “You are quite forceful, sir.”

      “Yeah, well, someone’s gotta be around here.” He turned back to his horse. “Otherwise we’d all be love candy for women and ending up at the gooey altar of marriage.”

      Whew! He was simply brewing in misery when it came to women, Clove realized. In their e-mails, he’d always made everything sound so wonderful, so carefree, so…fairy tale. But in person, the story was quite different.

      “Good luck,” she said, backing away, “with your rodeo. Or whatever it is that you’re after.”

      He waved a hand absently.

      Clove waved a hand back, mimicking him, but he never noticed. She went out onto the pavement, crossing her arms against the chill.

      It was true what Archer said. There was a large sign out in front of the Never Lonely salon. In fact, the whole building was lit up with white lights, like icing on a gingerbread house. Laughter floated from inside, and a piano gaily played ragtime.

      She glanced across the street at the Lonely Hearts Salon. A lamp glowed in the window, and it was mostly dark and very quiet, as if no one ever stayed there.

      She turned back to the Never Lonely salon. Four really pretty, lively women who knew how to get Archer’s attention lived inside. And hadn’t those flirty girls said something about hot cocoa?

      Clove shivered. She wasn’t used to this kind of cold.

      The cocoa—and the chance to get some advice on how to seduce her man—won out. She headed toward the Never Lonely Cut-n-Gurls Salon.

      ARCHER WAITED until he heard Clover walking away, then he turned to stealthily watch her leave. Nice fanny, for a girl with a plain face and wacky glasses. She was packing her jeans just fine. He liked her voice, too, he had to admit. It was very sweet, with a slight accent.

      “You embarrassed me, Tonk,” he said. “Could you at least go easy on me in front of girls? You make me look like I’m the hoss and you’re the rider.”

      Tonk ignored him.

      “Hey!” Bandera came and leaned his elbows over the rail. “Let’s eat. I’m hungry. Hey, what’s up with Dog-face? Someone feed her a sour apple?”

      “Shut up.” Archer put away the hoof pick and other tack. “There was a girl here a second ago—”

      “Oh,