Page 12 of Taming the Wild Cowboy

“Do you want to keep your horses here while you’re working for us?”

Mac stopped in her tracks.

“Something wrong?” he asked, looking back.

“How much?” The actual question that had shot into her head was why?

He shrugged. “Depends on how much hay they eat.”

Maclyn pushed her damp hair back, noting that some of the strands were already stiffening in the near-freezing temps. It would warm to over forty degrees the following day according to her weather app, then less than a week from now, they could expect a spring blizzard. Seesaw Montana weather.

“What do you think?”

That she had little choice but to agree. “Okay, as long as I pay.”

“You can haul them tomorrow. Or tonight. Whatever works. I just think you’d better get them off the fairgrounds.”

“I’ll do that.” She swallowed dryly. “Thank you.”

“No big deal.”

She fell back into step with him. “If you say so.”

A sharp look had her regretting the words. “Why would this be a big deal?” Trev asked as they continued toward the barn.

“Honestly? I feel kind of trapped when I owe people.” Because until a few years ago, she’d never had to ask anything of anyone. Things were simply taken care of, before Frank screwed them over.

“It’s a job perk.” He shot her a serious look. “Besides, it may be more of a case of me owing you.”

“You don’t,” she said stiffly.

“If what you say about Brooke is true, then yeah. I think I do.”

Maclyn’s expression grew as chilly as the wind whipping their coats. Trev let out a silent sigh. “I didn’t mean if.”

Chapter Three

Wisps of dark hair that had escaped Maclyn’s low ponytail blew across her face. “Figure of speech?” she asked as she brushed the strands away.

Trev opened the door and gestured her inside with a jerk of his chin. The scents of hay, damp dirt floor, and cattle mingled as they entered the relative stillness of the big structure. Trev closed the door, pushing against a sudden gust. This storm had come out of nowhere. His weather app had shown clear for the day the previous evening but squalls that formed out of nowhere were not unusual.

And now he had a smaller, more personal squall to deal with, which had also seemingly come out of nowhere. He’d decided early that morning that he needed answers, particularly if Mac was going to be working with him.

Trev pushed his hands into the pockets of his canvas coat. “Maybe it’s time for …” He sought the correct words; words that wouldn’t put her back up.

“The full explanation that you didn’t ask for yesterday?” Maclyn guessed.

“Tell me the alibi part.” Because the wild thoughts that had run through his head all night needed to be tempered with a few facts.

She leveled a serious look at him, a silent warning that he may not like what he heard.

“I need to know,” he said.

Maclyn pushed her hands into her pockets, mirroring his stance as she studied the straw-strewn dirt at their feet. She glanced sideways as one of the pregnant cows, in a pen hidden by a stack of straw bales, banged the side panel. Trev would check her in a minute, but right now he wanted Maclyn to tell him her side of things, as she’d done years ago, only this time he’d listen.

“Brooke and I were different in a lot of ways, but she was my friend right up until she threw me under the bus.” She moved straw with her toe, “When that happened, it was so …” She shrugged, indicating she couldn’t put her feelings into words. “What I didn’t know was that her secret life was about to catch up with her.”

Trev stayed quiet, allowing Maclyn to bring her thoughts together, but his heart was beating faster than its normal rhythm. All the little chips and chinks in his relationship with Brooke, things he hadn’t really thought about, had begun coalescing after Mac dropped her bomb the previous afternoon.