She was in the middle of a huge yawn, her hand rising from the reins to cover her mouth at the last second. She sat easily, body rocking gently as they took the trail to follow the extreme east boundary of the Angel land.
“You ride pretty good for a city slicker,” he teased.
She stuck out her tongue for a second then grinned. “I’ve been riding out in Red Deer. Not Patches—I didn’t want to haul the old girl too far from home, but there’s a couple great places that board horses and were always looking for help in exercising them. I got out at least a couple times a week.”
The trail narrowed, and he pulled in front to take her around the narrow gorge to the shallowest part of the creek. “We haven’t had a lot of runoff this year. The water table’s about as low as it’s been in the past ten years. Last year’s crops were lean because of the drought.”
“It wasn’t much better over most of the province. A few pockets got too much moisture—go figure—but it was a bad year all round.” She drew in a deep breath. “It’s hard to think of that right now, isn’t it? When there’s that smell of everything bursting out with new growth?”
She closed her eyes and the faintest hint of a smile teased her mouth. Gabe watched as a butterfly rose from the tall grasses to their left, its pale yellow wings barely visible against the deeper yellow of the old strawlike stalks. The little thing flitted up and past her face, circling and coming to land on the raised pommel of her saddle.
“Don’t move,” he said softly. “Open your eyes and look down.”
Her smile unfurled into full bloom as the butterfly took wing and escaped forward, dusting past Patches’s ears.
She turned to grin at him. “Nice. They’re a good sign, butterflies. Plus the frogs I hear going nuts at night outside your cabin.”
Gabe took her carefully through the rough terrain on the far side of the creek. “Right. If the ecosystem is in balance, there will be more butterflies. I remember reading that.”
“Is this part of the Angel land?”
He pointed to the side. “Everything on the west is ours. The creek is the dividing point on this side. It’s not a straight line, but when you’re splitting up land for the family, you don’t have to get out a ruler and set things in stone.”
“Who got this section?”
They topped the hill and he figured he probably didn’t need to answer.
Allison pulled to a stop beside him and sighed in admiration. “The Whiskey Creek clan do love their horses, don’t they?”
“Uncle George has got the touch when it comes to breeding. He’s not moving too fast, but he’s already managed to get a couple of their animals noticed in the stockyards.”
“Any studs?”
Gabe shook his head. “They need another generation, I think. It’s not an area I’ve been studying on—well, I’ve been working on the genetics part, but horses are outside my price range. My cousin Karen is the one who seems to be able to get them to do anything for her—she’s the magician around here.”
“I used to ride with her sometimes. She is good.”
He took her along the eastern boundary, talking comfortably the entire time. They stopped and took samples when she asked, but it wasn’t often.
“I thought we’d be doing a lot more testing,” he admitted.
They stopped at the end of the coulee at a small watering hole to refresh the horses, a place to sit and lean back and stare out into the blue spring sky.
Allison pulled off her hat and dropped it beside her, loosening off her ponytail holder and running her fingers through her hair to fluff it out. “It’s early testing, Gabe. And honestly? I don’t need to test often at this point. The uncomfortable truth is unless you and the Whiskey Creek side stopped using banned fertilizers a few years ago, chances are a lot of your fields around this side will be contaminated. You’re too close to other spreads as well.”
He nodded slowly. “I did think of that. And that’s why I thought this and the backside of the land are the most important to see first and take off the list. Our west boundary is up against crown land—if anything is going to meet standards, that will be it.”
“I’m glad to hear you’ve anticipated a few of the troubles. I didn’t want to be the one to have to burst your bubble.”
She looked so nervous he couldn’t stand it. Gabe leaned forward and caught her hand. “You’re not wrecking anything by telling me the truth. I am going to find a way to make this happen, but there are a ton of options at this point. You knocking a few of the blocks out from under me is helping, not hindering. Got it?”
“I still worry.”
“Ha.” He squeezed her fingers. “You were born worrying. Just saying you don’t have to tread carefully around me. You’ve got enough of that to deal with every day.”
She nodded. “Thanks.”
“How’s it going with your mom? You want to talk about it?”
She pulled back her hand—he hadn’t even realized he was still holding it—and dragged her fingers through her hair again. The act left the long tresses in a wild scramble around her shoulders and something shot hard into his gut.
“Things are good. My mom is thrilled to have me back. She doesn’t suspect why. I’ve managed to convince her to not show up any day before noon.”
“Your mom is taking time off?”
“I know. It’s like a mini miracle. She asked if I’d come to the house this weekend and help her with some boxes.” Allison smiled at him. “It’s right to be here. Thank you so much for making it possible.”
“No problem.”
She was in the middle of pulling her hair back and fastening it with an elastic when her bracelet got caught. “Shit. Gabe?”
He laughed and shifted forward, reaching around her to loosen off the bit that was caught in the tiny clasp.
She smelt good. Clean and fresh with that hint of flowers. He was kneeling at her side, one knee tucked between her legs where they extended in front of her. He tried his best to not pull as he worked, but he was getting distracted. The softness of the hair under his fingers, and the flannel of her shirt as it brushed his arm caused all sorts of wrong reactions.
“You having troubles?” Her wrist jiggled and pulled, and she hissed in pain.
He trapped her in place. “Hold still. What kind of unsolvable puzzle do you have on this damn bracelet?”
“Ouch. I’m not sure, but you’re scalping me.”
He couldn’t work the thing one handed. “This may seem strange, but don’t argue, okay?” He twisted her hand and placed it palm down on the top of her head.
Allison giggled. “I need to rub my tummy at the same time, right? To test my coordination?”
“Or walk and chew gum as we’d tease the twins. Hold still, I think I can get it now.”
He had to lean in even closer, but with something to brace on, she kept her arm steady and he had her loose from the tiny trap. He smoothed back the long strand of hair he’d freed, the silken softness a caress against his fingers, and suddenly he was aware of how close they were to each other. That he was damn near straddling her. Her breath brushing across his chest.
He retreated as carefully as he could, hoping she wouldn’t move and crash them together, because if they fell to the ground in a tangle there was little doubt in his mind he’d end up doing something other than try to get free.
He was brushing the dirt off his knees and looking for what he could pick up. Anything to distract him. That’s when he heard it. Small, but definitely there.
“Are you laughing at me, Allison Parker?”
She jammed on her hat and pulled the front brim low, effectively hiding her face. “Course not.”
One twirl took her away from him, but her shoulders continued to shake suspiciously.