The Mighty Quinns: Teague. Kate Hoffmann

smiled. “Better?” Hayley nodded mutely and Teague looked down at the horse. “Then let’s get to work.”

      It was as if the kiss had focused their thoughts and strengthened their bond. Though he wanted to kiss her again, he had professional duties to dispatch first. And saving Molly was more important than indulging in desire. They managed to get the horse on her feet again and pushed her up against a wall to keep her still as Teague inserted the IV catheter into her neck. Drawing out a measure of the painkiller, he injected it into the IV bag.

      “There. She should start feeling a little better. Once she does, we’ll dose her with mineral oil. If it’s an impaction, that should help.”

      They walked back and forth, the length of the stable, both of them holding on to Molly’s halter. At each turn, he took the time to glance over at her, letting his gaze linger.

      Without all the slinky clothes and the fancy makeup and hair, she didn’t look anything like a television star. She looked exactly like the fresh-faced girl he used to kiss and touch, the first girl he’d ever had sex with and the last girl he’d ever loved. Teague clenched his free hand into a fist, fighting the urge to pull her into his arms and kiss her again.

      “So you got home yesterday,” he said.

      Hayley nodded, continuing to stare straight ahead. He could read the wariness in her expression. If she was feeling half of what he was, then her heart was probably pounding and her mind spinning with the aftereffects of the kiss they’d shared.

      “I’ve seen you on telly. You’ve become quite a good actress.” This brought a smile, a step in the right direction, Teague thought. “I heard you won some award?”

      “A Logie award. And I didn’t win. I’ve been nominated three times. Haven’t won yet.”

      “That’s good, though, right? Nominated is good. Better than not being nominated.”

      “It’s a soap opera,” she said. “It’s not like I’m doing Shakespeare with the Royal Queensland.”

      “But you could, if you wanted to, right?”

      Hayley shook her head. “No, I don’t have any formal training. They hired me on Castle Cove because I looked like the part. Not because I could act.”

      He wanted to ask why she had decided to run away from home. And why she hadn’t come to him as they’d always planned. Teague drew a deep breath, then stopped. Molly had settled down, her respiration now almost normal. “See, she’s feeling better,” he said, smoothing his palm over the horse’s muzzle. “That’s the thing with colic. One minute the horse is close to death and the next she’s on the mend. Have you ever twitched a horse?”

      Hayley shook her head. “I don’t want you to do that. It will hurt her.”

      “It looks painful, but it isn’t if it’s done properly. It’s going to release endorphins and it will relax Molly so she won’t fight the tube.”

      “All right,” she said, nodding. “I trust you.”

      Three simple words. I trust you. But they meant the world to him. After all that had happened between them, and all that hadn’t, maybe things weren’t so bad after all.

      As they tended to Molly, they barely spoke, Teague calmly giving her instructions when needed. Hayley murmured softly to keep her calm, smoothing her hand along Molly’s neck. Once the mineral oil was pumped into the horse’s stomach, Teague removed the tube and the twitch and they began to walk her again.

      “She is feeling better,” Hayley said. “I can see it already.” She looked over at him. “Thank you.”

      Teague saw the tears swimming in her eyes again and he fought the urge to gather her into his arms and hold her. The mere thought of touching her was enough to send a flood of heat pulsing through his veins.

      He’d kiss Hayley again, only this time it wouldn’t be to soothe her fears, but to make her remember how good it had been between them. And how good it could be again.

      HAYLEY STARED OUT at the setting sun, her back resting against the side of the stable. A bale of straw served as a low bench. Teague sat beside her with his long legs crossed in front of him and his stockman’s hat pulled low to protect his eyes from the glare.

      They’d spent the last hour walking Molly around the stable yard, and to Hayley’s great relief, the mare seemed to be recovering quite well. Hayley wanted to throw herself into Teague’s arms and kiss him silly with gratitude. But she knew doing that would only unleash feelings that had been buried for a very long time—feelings that could sweep them both into dangerous waters.

      She’d already turned into an emotional wreck over Molly. Since she’d returned to Wallaroo, she’d rediscovered her emotional side. It had disappeared after her parents died, when she’d stubbornly refused to surrender to sorrow or pain. But in these familiar surroundings, her past had slowly come back and she’d found herself grieving, for her parents’ deaths, for her difficult adolescence and for her fractured relationship with Harry.

      There was no telling what might happen if she and Teague revisited their past. With so many unresolved feelings, so many mistakes she’d made, she’d likely cry for days.

      Now, it seemed so clear, his leaving. He’d been going off to university, starting his life away from home. But at the time she’d seen it as a betrayal, a desertion. Though she’d known he’d be back, Hayley’s insecurities had overwhelmed her without Teague to help hold them in check.

      From the moment she’d met Teague, she’d found a home, a family and someone she could trust. She’d come to depend on him. He had been the only person who loved her, the only person who cared that she existed and suddenly he was gone. She’d been angry. And though she’d tried to tell herself she’d be all right on her own, she’d been terrified.

      So she’d run, away from the place that held so many memories, away from the boy who might not want to return.

      She snuck a glance at him. He’d grown into a handsome man. Working in television, she’d met a lot of good-looking blokes, but none of them possessed Teague’s raw masculinity. Teague Quinn was a flesh-and-blood man, seemingly unaware of the powerful effect he had on women.

      “She looks almost frisky,” Teague commented, nodding toward the horse.

      “I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to thank you,” Hayley said.

      “Don’t worry. I’m glad I could help. I know how much Molly means to you. I remember the day you got her.”

      “My sixteenth birthday,” Hayley said. “My grandfather was never one for birthday celebrations. He’d shove money into my hand and tell me not to spend it on silly things. And then, he gave me Molly and I thought everything had changed.”

      “You rode her over to Kerry Creek to show me. You looked so happy, I thought you’d burst. You immediately challenged me to a race.”

      “Which I won, as I remember.”

      “Which I let you win, since it was your birthday. You were such a wild child. Looking back, I wonder how you managed to survive to adulthood. Remember when you were determined to jump the gate near the shack? You were sure Molly could do it. You even bet me my new saddle against your Christmas money.”

      “That wasn’t my finest hour,” Hayley admitted, wincing.

      “She stopped dead and threw you right over the gate. It took a full minute for the dust to clear from your fall. And what about that time you decided to try bull riding?”

      “Another embarrassing failure,” she said with a giggle. “But at least I tried. You didn’t.”

      “You were crazy. But I thought you were the most exciting girl I’d ever seen. You were absolutely fearless.” He paused, then reached out and touched her face. “What’s going on here, Hayley?”

      She