Free Knight in a White Stetson by Claire King Page A

finally.
    “Yes, what?” Henry stifled in the darkness.
    “Yes, I’m going to marry Clark. If he asks me.” She hadn’t taken her head off the horse.
    Henry sat for a second longer, then reached down for her across Bubba’s back. The horse shifted a little. Calla looked up, took his warm hand and walked around to face him. He looked down at her for a long moment, studying her face, then reached under her arms and lifted her easily up to sit next to him.
    She closed her eyes and waited for Henry to kiss her.
    But he didn’t kiss her. Instead he swung his legs over the stall and jumped down to the plank floor.
    “Do you want me to go back and get you some shoes?”
    “No. Henry?”
    “I’ll see you in the morning. I’ll be heading out.”
    “Heading out?” Calla blinked at him. The moment of deep tension was gone. She was instantly furious. “You’re leaving? Because I’m marrying Clark? Of all the petty, childish… What am I supposed to do for the rest of the summer? It’s too late to hire a summer rider. I never thought you’d run, you big, selfish…” she groped for an appropriately hideous epithet “…city boy.”
    “I’m leaving for camp in the morning, remember?” he said as he walked calmly out the barn door. And just because she was so testy and he was so rigidly, aggravatingly aroused, he shouted over his shoulder, “You better have better accommodations up there than you do down here. I’ve had a mouse in my mattress every night for two weeks.”
    He left her fuming. And barefooted.
    Calla sat for a long time in the dark of the barn. She had wanted him to kiss her again. She had wanted it more than anything else in the world. He had lifted her as though she were no bigger than a child. Clark had never even let her sit on his lap.
    She was going to marry Clark. What was the matter with her? Of course, she was going to marry Clark. She’d been waiting nearly a year. It was all part of the plan. Of course. She should have shouted it at the blockhead.
    It was a fait accompli. She knew it, her family knew it, now Henry knew it. It had to happen. Everything was riding on it. A hundred years were riding on it. Her mother and Benny were counting on her. She was the only McFadden left.
    So why would she have gladly sold her soul and her best horse a few minutes earlier for the touch of Henry’s lips on hers?
    Calla hitched up her nightgown and scooted, bareback, onto Bubba. He grunted a little in surprise, but didn’t so much as shift under her weight. The bare skin of her thighs brushed his warm, coarse hair, doing nothing to ease the aching arousal she’d felt from the minute Henry had climbed the stall rungs to sit next to her.
    Oh, Ben, she thought suddenly. I wish you were here to help me. To remind me why I have to forget this man, this beautiful Henry. To help me stick to the plan.
    Calla leaned forward and wrapped her arms around the thick neck of the gray. She stretched her legs out behind her until she was lying along the length of the horse.
    Even if Benny were here, he never would have helped her, she knew.
    Her brother would have chosen Henry for her. And let one hundred years of family history take care of itself.

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    Chapter 8
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    ” C alla, this is Peggy over at the co-op,” the voice from the machine shrilled in Calla’s ear. “Lester called this morning for a diesel delivery. Calla, I’m real sorry, but we can’t deliver gas until you pay your outstanding bill. Give me a call when you get a chance. Thanks.”
    There was a screeching beep. Another voice came on the line. Calla tried to steel herself.
    “Uh, yeah. Hello. This is Dusty Johnson. I tried to cash the check you give me for the horseshoeing? And, um, well, there wasn’t no money in your account to cover it.” The voice was young, hesitant, but it bore into Calla like a drill. “Yeah, so anyways, I’m a little short on account of the weekend and all and I was wondering, if you get it straightened