The Restless Virgin

“And who is going to want to take the time to drive out here for a private lesson with one student?” he asked dryly.

Sam met his gaze squarely. “I am.”

Two

"You are going to give barrel-racing lessons?”

Sam hunched her shoulders defensively. “I’m qualified,” she muttered and started around her sister.

Mandy flattened a hand against Sam’s chest, stopping her, then leveled a finger at Sam’s boots. Grumbling, Sam backed up a couple of steps, hooked a heel in the bootjack by the back door and levered off first one boot then the other.

Satisfied, Mandy stepped aside and went back to the sink where she was peeling potatoes for their dinner. “Yes, you’re qualified, but you also have a veterinary practice that keeps you running from one end of the county to the other. How on earth will you ever find time?”

Sam padded across the kitchen to the refrigerator. “I’ll make time. If I don’t, her daddy’ll have her horse put down.”

Mandy whirled, her eyes wide. “He wouldn’t!”

“That’s what he said.” Sam one-hipped the door closed and carried the jug of milk to the counter. “The horse threw her. Or so he says. Colby insists she just fell off.” Grabbing a glass, Sam filled it with milk, then reached for a brownie from the pan cooling on a rack.

Mandy slapped her hand away. “You’ll ruin your dinner.”

Sam had to smile. Though they were only separated by a year in age, at times Mandy acted more like a mother to Sam than a big sister, and even more so since Mandy had married. “Don’t worry. I promise I’ll clean my plate.” She snatched a brownie before Mandy could stop her and took a healthy bite, ignoring Mandy’s disapproving frown. “Anyway,” she continued around a mouthful of the gooey chocolate, “I have two months to prove to him that his daughter can handle the horse, or else the horse goes.”

“Who is this guy? Simon Legree?”

Though Sam was tempted to agree with her sister’s assessment of Nash Rivers, she had to be honest. “No, just an overprotective father. His name’s Nash Rivers. Ever heard of him?”

Mandy paused in her peeling as she stared out the window, running the name through her mind. She lifted a shoulder and went back to her peeling. “No, but then if he’s new to the area, I probably wouldn’t.”

Sam turned her back to the counter, leaned against it and took a sip of her milk. “They moved here about a year ago from San Antonio. Nash inherited his father’s ranch, but plans to divide up the land and sell it.”

Mandy nodded sympathetically. “That’s happening more and more often. People are having a hard time making a living at ranching.”

“Judging by the looks of the place, I’d say he didn’t even give it a try. It’s going to break the kid’s heart when she has to move.”

Mandy turned her head slowly to peer at Sam. “You sure seem to know a lot about these people.”

Sam snorted a laugh. “Thanks to Colby. The kid could talk the hair off a dog.” She shook her head, remembering. “She even suggested that I marry her daddy so that she could have a mother.”

Mandy chuckled, then sobered when Sam narrowed an eye at her. “Sony,” she murmured. “I just had this mental image of you changing diapers.”

“I can change diapers,” Sam replied indignantly. “I certainly changed enough of my nephew’s to prove that. But thankfully, Colby’s long out of the diaper stage.”

“How old is she?”

“Six, going on sixteen.”

Mandy chuckled, dropping the last potato into the pot. “Interesting assessment.”

Sam blew out a breath. “You wouldn’t believe this kid. She can carry on a conversation like an adult, yet throw a tantrum that would rival that of a two-year-old.”

“And you willingly volunteered to spend time with her?”

Sam frowned. “Yeah.” She turned, propping her forearms on the counter, and stared out the window, holding the glass between her hands. “She kind of reminds me a little bit of myself at that age. She’s a tomboy and crazy about her horse. You wouldn’t believe how she lit in to me when she heard her daddy order me to put him down.” Sam chuckled as the image built. “Took all my strength to hold her back. And she lost her mother before she even had a chance to get to know her, just like we did.” She stared a moment longer, than gave herself a firm shake. “Not that I intend to serve as a surrogate mother, mind you. I’m just going to help her improve her riding skills so her daddy will agree to let her keep her horse.”

Mandy watched Sam, her instincts going on red alert. “What about her dad? What’s he like?”

“Nash?” Sam snorted. “He’s a suit.”

At Mandy’s quizzical look, Sam pushed away from the counter to pace. “You know the type. Brooks Brothers suit, Italian silk tie, Rolex watch, Mercedes. And all business. I bet he even schedules trips to the rest room on his day planner.”

Mandy lifted a brow. She’d never known Sam to get this worked up over a man. “Is he handsome?”

“If you like pretty boys. Merideth would love him,” she added, using their younger sister’s taste in men as a reference point for Mandy.

“So he is handsome.”

An image formed in Sam’s mind of Nash standing at the fence, the wind lifting his carefully combed hair then dropping it carelessly down on his forehead. Sleeves rolled to the elbow, revealing muscled forearms dusted with dark hair. Carved cheekbones, a stubborn jaw. Gray eyes leveled on her, eyes that seemed capable of stripping her down to her most vulnerable core.

A shiver chased along her spine.

“Yeah, I guess,” she replied vaguely, dumping the rest of her milk down the drain, her appetite suddenly gone. “I really didn’t pay that much attention.”

Three days later, Sam was in the barn at Rivers Ranch, saddling Whiskey in preparation for her first lesson with Colby, when she heard a car door slam in the yard. She lifted her head, turning slightly, and bit back an oath when Nash stepped inside the barn. Wearing a navy blazer and khaki pants, he looked as out of place as he had the first time she’d seen him.

“Where’s Colby?” he asked.

“In the house, changing clothes.”

He glanced at his watch, frowning. “So when do we start?”

“We?” Sam repeated, arching a brow his way as he strode down the alleyway toward her.

His frown deepened. “Yes, we. I intend to be present at every lesson.”

“Great,” Sam muttered under her breath. She stooped and caught the rear girt, buckling it into place.

He stopped and braced his hands on his hips. “We didn’t discuss the details of this arrangement, so I think we need to do so now. How much are you charging for these lessons?”

“Nothing. I’m doing this for Colby.”

His eyes widened then narrowed. “Colby isn’t a charity case. I paid her last teacher forty dollars an hour. I’ll pay you the same, plus an additional ten dollars for the trip out.”

“Keep your money. I don’t want it or need it. Like I said, I’m doing this for Colby.” She stooped and picked up Whiskey’s hoof. “Who’s your farrier?”

“Cletus Boggs. Now, about your fee—”

“Better call him. This rear shoe is loose. And tell Cletus to use shoes with rims for the front hooves. It’ll help give Whiskey more traction on the turns.”