Her hands were shaking so much, she’d never manage the buttons. “No. Fix it. And behave yourself.” She turned her back to him.
Her breath caught as he lifted waves of hair and gently laid them on her shoulder. His hand paused ever so lightly there before continuing with the task. He tugged the two sides of the dress together and buttoned the garment.
The collar tightened snugly around her throat. Did she imagine it, or did his fingers tremble? Her thoughts scattered.
“I’m sorry I’ve made myself scarce these last couple of days.” He stepped back toward Ginger.
“Why have you?” She bit her lip.
“Your uncle thought it best.” He picked up the loose end of the strap and looped it through the ring two more times.
“I figured he had something to do with it. What did he say?”
Devon flipped the left stirrup down from atop the saddle. Bits of straw clung to his trouser knees.
Ginger shifted her head toward Morning Fawn and nuzzled. Morning Fawn rubbed the mare’s forehead before moving on to stroke her neck. “What did he say?”
Devon snagged a bridle from a hook and walked over. “He ordered me to stay away from you.”
Her mouth dropped. “Why? Surely, he doesn’t think you did anything ungentlemanly on our walk. I could talk to him. I could tell him.”
“It’s not that.”
“Then what is it? He’s the one who wanted me to find—” She pressed her lips shut. A husband. For land. But land had nothing to do with their walk or the tremble in her voice now.
“A potential groom?” He finished her sentence for her. The bridle dangled in his hand.
She blinked at him. “Yes. But that’s not why…”
He studied her face as if he wasn’t convinced. Why did her uncle have to invent the whole land deal?
“What does that have to do with us going for a stroll?” she asked.
He shifted into motion, drawing the mare’s muzzle through the noseband and laying the headstall against her forehead as he situated the bit.
Morning Fawn bit her lip. Wasn’t he going to answer?
The crinkles at the corners of his eyes deepened as he poked Ginger’s ears inside the top of the bridle. “Your uncle wants me to either declare my intentions to court you or to stay away from you.” His words rang with finality.
“Oh.”
“I’m not ready to consider marrying, Morning Fawn.”
“I never suggested it.”
A loose lock of hair slipped to Devon’s forehead, and he shoved it back. “Your uncle did.”
Why couldn’t her uncle keep his mouth shut?
Devon secured the latch beneath the horse’s throat, paying more attention to the animal than her. “I can’t make any commitments at the present.”
“I’m not asking you to. It doesn’t matter what my uncle said.” For goodness’ sakes, she wasn’t going to beg the man. Hadn’t she told him she’d just as soon be a spinster? Her gaze fell on the back stall. Ebony waited there, neglected. “What’s wrong with two friends or acquaintances going on a walk together?” Best use the wordfriendsrather than those going through her heart. No need to scare him clear back to Dallas.
“I said the same thing to your uncle.”
“And?”
“He said no.”
