Marriage For Sale. CAROL DEVINE

new filly.

      “You are a fine judge of horseflesh,” she said.

      It was a compliment, but acknowledging it felt like a concession to him. Maybe it was her use of the word horseflesh. “Thanks,” he said gruffly.

      “What shall we name her?” she asked.

      “Not we. I own her. I’ll name her,” he said, more annoyed than ever.

      “She’s got the fire of the sun in her chestnut coat and a blinding white blanket. If she were mine, I would name her Summer.”

      “What kind of name is that?”

      She frowned, obviously bothered by the tone of judgment in his voice. “A perfect name.”

      “Fine. Her name is Summer.” It really didn’t matter what the horse was called. She would be sold at a very nice profit once she was fully trained. Linc slapped on a pair of leather roping gloves. “Get in the truck while I load her.”

      “I will help.”

      She wasn’t asking—she was telling. His annoyance increased tenfold. Who did she think she was? “Wait in the damned pickup,” he ordered.

      “Please do not swear at me, Linc. I may be of help. I know horses.”

      “I know horses, too. Get in the truck, Mrs. Monroe.”

      Rachel put her hands on her hips, but surpressed her frustration. She didn’t wish to create another scene, not minutes after their wedding ceremony. Tapping her foot, she stayed beside the truck, ready to help at a moment’s notice.

      She hadn’t realized it before, but the trailer was positioned with its loading door flush against the corral. Linc removed the fence posts that blocked the door, then opened it and pulled down the ramp. It thudded on the damp ground.

      Summer stood at the other end of the corral, ears pricked forward in curiosity, her dark tail swishing at the flies buzzing around her bay coat and spotted white Appaloosa blanket. She wasn’t quite sure what to make of the noise and activity caused by the man in the black cowboy hat but, so far, she wasn’t unduly alarmed, Rachel noticed.

      Linc paid little attention to Summer at this stage, keeping his eyes averted while preparing the trailer. He tied a rope to the trailer door, which mystified Rachel, but she approved of the generous fork load of hay he tossed in the trailer. By this time of day, Summer would be hungry.

      Walking toward the horse, he spoke soothingly. Rachel couldn’t hear the words but soothing or not, Summer took off in a typical fast-paced lope. She balked at the unfamiliar sight of the trailer ramp, but, behind her, Linc waved his hat and his arms. Frightened, Summer had two choices—run over the man or escape into the trailer. She escaped into the trailer. Linc used the rope to slam shut the door before the horse could back out, avoiding any possibility that he might get kicked. A moment later, the ramp was stowed and he was rounding the truck, dusting his hands.

      “Why did you scare her so?” Rachel demanded.

      “It worked, didn’t it? I want to get out of here.” He opened the passenger door for her and trotted to the other side. Settling in, he gunned the engine and checked the rear view mirror, thankful he caught a break in loading the filly—Summer—fairly easily. Now if he could just get her home without a hitch…that is, if Rachel cooperated. She was still standing next to the truck, waiting to give him more grief, no doubt. “Rachel, for the last time, get in or I swear, I’ll leave you behind.”

      She ducked her head, puzzlement on her face. “How do I get in?”

      “You’re kidding me, right?”

      “No, I don’t believe so.”

      “Don’t tell me you haven’t been in a truck before?”

      “I’m afraid not.”

      “Twenty-eight years old and you’ve never learned to drive?”

      “I’ve been driving teams since I was a youngster,” she offered.

      “I take it you mean you’ve been driving teams of horses,” he commented dryly.

      “Four in hand and eight in hand. Among those in The Community, I am considered quite good.”

      “I bet.” He showed her how to work the handle of the door, then opened it for her. She reached for his arm and gathered her skirt. He boosted her inside the truck, all too aware of his bird’s-eye view of her well-shaped rump. The long dress followed her moves gracefully, including the awkward hiking up she had to do to sit in her seat.

      Settling the skirt around her legs, she turned her bright, white smile on him. “Thank you.”

      He nodded, rather than reply, refusing to give away the lust he felt. Never been kissed, never been married—what was wrong with the men around here?

      Plunking down behind the steering wheel, he checked the rearview mirror, hoping the filly had settled down. No, not the filly. “Summer.” Linc rolled his eyes. “We’ll be heading into the town of Tall Timber first.”

      “I expected as much.” Rachel noticed the sure way he handled the steering of the truck. The confusing mix of levers and dials and displays that made up the dashboard unnerved her. The engine roared into life, startling her enough to cause Linc to comment.

      “There is nothing to be scared of.”

      “Good.” Still she wondered what she had gotten herself into. The answer came in the square male knees and taut thighs encased in blue denim edging her vision. Lean muscle bunched as he pumped the pedals built into the floor of the truck. In the enclosed cab, the back of his hands loomed large and dark. She had just held those hands and been comforted by their strength. But the look of that strength now raised gooseflesh along her arms. He’d better be gentle with her, she thought. He was so much bigger than she.

      She jumped as his arm snaked behind her neck along the top of her seat. He twisted to look out the rear window, oblivious, it seemed, to her total awareness of him. He backed the truck out slow and easy and started down the rutted dirt road that would take them directly to the highway. “I was wondering if you might be intimidated about going to town.”

      “It is thoughtful of you to mention it. I must admit I am. Most people in my situation would be.”

      “There is nothing to worry about. Tall Timber is a nice little town. You’ll get used to living there in no time.”

      “Am I mistaken?” she asked. “I thought you owned a ranch.”

      “I do. It’s very isolated, though. Believe me, you’ll be better off in Tall Timber. You can make friends and have a regular life.”

      “I beg to differ. I am not one for friends, for gossip and socializing.” She removed the roll of money from her skirt and showed it to him. “What I had hoped to do was to turn some of my bought price into smaller bills.”

      “They gave you the money I paid for you?”

      “It is my stake for the future. I wish to use a small portion for clothes similar to the denim you wear, for working on your ranch.”

      “Did you really think I bought you to have you slave around my ranch?”

      Her confused expression told Linc that was exactly what she thought. “Let me make myself clear,” he said. “I bought you to free you.”

      “Free me from what?”

      “Bondage. I want you to be able to live your own life, without other people telling you what to do. You should be on your own, discovering what is important to you.”

      “I already know what is important to me. You.”

      Linc swore under his breath. “That’s what I mean. You shouldn’t build your life around anybody, especially a man. Your life belongs to you.”

      “My life does belong to me in the way that