The Wrangler And The Runaway Mom. RaeAnne Thayne

and he immediately crouched to help. “Here. Let me get this.”

      “I can do it. Really.”

      “It’s no trouble.”

      They worked in silence for the few moments it took to pick up her things. It was unnerving, having him help her collect her most intimate belongings: her razor, toothbrush, the scented peach soap she indulged in.

      He must have just come from the men’s shower himself. His hair was damp, his cheeks and his chin freshly shaved. In the pale, thin hush of the morning she became acutely, painfully, aware of him: the blunt tips of his fingers clutching her delicate things. The scent of his aftershave, a subtle, erotic combination of leather and sagebrush. The layer of crisp dark hair on his arms, the little scar at the corner of his mouth that curved up like an extension of his smile, and those deep blue eyes that reminded her of a clear, pristine mountain lake.

      She had no business noticing anything about Colt McKendnck, let alone the mountain-lake color of his eyes. She yanked in her thoughts sharply and cleared her throat. “When did you arrive?” she asked. “It must have been late—I didn’t see you come in before I went to sleep last night.”

      Those eyes took on a teasing glint. “You weren’t watching for me, now, were you, Doc?”

      Drat her fair complexion that showed every emotion. She felt her cheeks flood with color again. “Nicky was,” she mumbled.

      It was the truth, if not the complete truth. Since the moment they arrived at the campground the day before, her son had watched every rig pull in with an eagerness usually reserved for Santa Claus or birthday parties. He had become increasingly dejected as the day wore on when none of the arrivals turned out to be his new pal.

      What Maggie didn’t add—what she couldn’t possibly admit, even to herself, except in her most secret of hearts—was that she had watched each newcomer with the same eagerness as her son. And been just as disappointed when he didn’t show up.

      Somehow Colt McKendrick had seeped into her subconscious, and she couldn’t seem to shake him loose. She would definitely have to do something about it.

      When her things were finally collected and stored safely in her rattan bag, they both stood. Colt rested one of those blunt-fingered hands on the cinder block wall of the rest rooms, blocking her way as effectively as if he still held her in those muscled arms. “Now that we’ve got that settled, Doc, how about you tell me what’s got you so jumpy.”

      Startled, she met his gaze. His eyes held curiosity and a concern she didn’t want to see there. She quickly looked down at the ground. “I don’t know what you mean,” she lied.

      “Come on, Doc. You’re more skittish than a broomtail in a nest full of diamondbacks. Is it me?”

      Just like that, her nervousness disappeared. She pursed her lips and gave him a quelling look at his arrogance. “Pretty full of yourself, aren’t you, McKendrick?”

      He grinned, unrepentant. “Just thought I’d ask. Knowing your feelings about us saddle bums and all.”

      The grin faded and he studied her for a moment, those blue eyes entirely too perceptive. “You know, if you need somebody to talk to, I’ve been told I can be a pretty good listener.”

      If only she could talk about it. The desire to unload some of her burdens was so powerful she wanted to weep. Maybe if she could share it with someone, this constant fear would ease, would lose its hold over her every waking moment.

      He would protect them.

      The thought slipped into her mind, more seductive than any physical attraction she could ever feel for him. Somehow she knew Colt McKendrick would do everything in his power to keep them safe.

      She opened her mouth, searching for the words to begin, then snapped it shut again. What was she doing? She couldn’t tell him, couldn’t tell anyone. Her troubles weren’t something she could just blurt out to a virtual stranger. I cowered in the bathroom while two men executed my husband in cold blood and now they’re after me and I jump out of my skin any time someone says “boo” to me and I’m ashamed of myself for it but I can’t seem to help it. Oh, and thank you for asking.

      Besides, this was not his problem. She couldn’t drag him or anybody else into the mess she had made of things. She absolutely refused to put anyone else in harm’s way.

      No, she wouldn’t tell Colt McKendrick anything. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she said instead, fingers clutching her bag tightly. She couldn’t ease her grip any more than she could keep her voice from sounding distant and polite, as if she were refusing tea in the drawing room of one of the society mansions her mother used to drag her to. “I’m sorry, but...I have to go. I left Nicky sleeping back in our trailer, and I wouldn’t want him to wake up alone.”

      He lifted his hand from the wall and straightened to give her room to pass. “I mean it, Doc. If you need to talk, you know where to find me.”

      She gave a quick nod and began to walk quickly away.

      “Hey,” he called after her. “If you aren’t busy later this morning, I’d be happy to give your little desperado that ride I promised him on Scout. The exercise would be good for him after travelin’ all day yesterday.”

      “For Nicholas or for Scout?”

      He grinned again. Despite all her efforts to restrain it, her traitorous heart fluttered in her chest, and she returned his smile with a small one of her own.

      “Both, probably,” he answered.

      “I know you promised, but you really don’t have to do that.”

      “Eleven o’clock work for you?”

      She did a quick assessment of her schedule. She had to prepare the exam trailer for any injured riders from tonight’s competition, but that wouldn’t take her much time. An hour, tops.

      And Nicky wanted to ride Colt’s horse so badly. How could she refuse her son this one small thing, after she had dragged him away from all that he loved, forced him to give up everything secure in his little life?

      “Yes,” she finally answered. “I suppose eleven would be fine.”

      “Meet us at the practice racetrack. You know where that is?”

      She nodded. “I think so.”

      “Good.” He smiled that teasing grin she was beginning to find entirely too addictive. “I’ll see you then.”

      * * *

      He didn’t think they’d show up.

      Colt kept one eye on the pathway from the campground while he checked Scout’s tack and adjusted the stirrups to an appropriate length for an almost-six-year-old.

      It wouldn’t surprise him if she stayed away. She had been so skittish this morning, avoiding his gaze and hanging on to that bag like it was filled with gold.

      Even nearly four hours later, Maggie’s tantalizing peach scent still filled his senses. Fresh-scrubbed from the shower, with her skin as dewy as the morning grass and her hair still damp, she’d been damn near irresistible.

      When she’d come barreling around the corner and landed in his arms, it had taken every last ounce of his self-control to keep from stealing a little taste.

      He wanted her more than he could ever remember wanting a woman. The desire pulsed under his skin and left him itchy and uneasy. It had sure as hell complicated what was supposed to be an easy assignment.

      He had to put a lid on it. Simple as that. He wanted DeMarranville too much to let something as insignificant as simple lust screw it up for him. He was bound to make mistakes if he let his hormones do the thinking for him, so the trick would be figuring out a way to keep his distance from the beautiful Dr. Rawlings at the same time try to coax her to open up emotionally.

      A warm breeze puffed out of the mountains, ruffling