Lara grinned as he took an enormous bite from the bread. “Where are Arlen and George?” She held up the other two packages.
“Off checking on cattle,” he said after he swallowed a mouthful of cheese. He glanced up at the barn. “I’ll ride out there with you.”
Lara tried to hide her smile. “Don’t you have to finish the barn?”
“Not much left to do.”
“All right. I’ll saddle the horses while you eat.” She forced herself to walk to the corral even though she felt like skipping. A ride alongside Mitchell sounded like a wonderful way to spend an hour or two. Maybe she’d finally get him to tell her more about his family. Or maybe he’d simply look at her with those eyes she thought could see right through her. Perhaps they’d stop somewhere, and he’d touch her face again and then she’d close her eyes—
Murray’s nuzzle against her face brought Lara back to the present. She saddled the two horses as quickly as possible and returned to where she’d left Mitchell outside the barn.
“Which way did they go?” she asked.
“South.” He eyed Murray. “Do you need help?”
“I . . .” Too late, she realized there was no stool out here to assist with mounting the horse. “I can go back in—”
She hadn’t finished her thought when he’d rounded the horse and wrapped two strong hands around her waist. Lara fought against a gasp as he picked her up, as easily as if she were a kitten, and set her on the saddle.
“Thank— Thank you,” she finally managed to say.
He gave her a devilish grin. “Don’t tell me you ride sidesaddle.”
Lara glanced down at the saddle, where she was sitting to one side as she tried to push the feel of his hands on her waist from her mind. Then she gave him her own mischievous grin. “I grew up on a farm. Of course I don’t ride sidesaddle.”
And then, awkwardly, she bunched her skirts up and swung her leg over the other side of the saddle. Then she urged the horse forward, leaving Mitchell behind to scramble up onto his own horse to catch up.
Chapter Twelve
This must be what heavenfelt like.
Riding across an open field, sky as blue as a sapphire, the perfect amount of breeze, and the most beautiful woman in the world at his side.
Well, Mitchell reflected, if it truly were heaven, there would be an occasional rain.
But that was all right by him. He wasn’t ready to leave this earth just yet, and he’d endure an unending drought just to see the way Lara looked at him—as if he were incapable of ever doing wrong, as if he were her protector, as if . . .
