Free Their Newborn Gift by Nikki Logan

had value outside of a tin can. The thought that a little of the wild bloodline might end up in every station in the district was perversely tempting.
    The deep voice grabbed at her hesitation. ‘Tell you what, why don’t we discuss this on the trail? I’d like to look at your stock.’
    ‘They’re not my stock, and they don’t exactly hang out near the homestead. You’ll have to ride out quite a way.’
    Bark-coloured eyes assessed her. ‘Minamurra’s ten times Yurraji’s size. By my standards, they’re practically corralled.’
    And just like that, Lea’s willingness to play nice evaporated. Her land may be small compared to his, but it was particularly stunning; her grandfather had chosen it for its mix of natural bush, red-rock ravines, rocky pools and spectacular terrain. Its terrain was too undulating and its boundaries too small to be of interest to the mega-graziers in the region, but it was perfect for wild horses—deep, thick cover and plenty of water sources even in the dry season. It was paradise on earth for her. And would be for her children.
    She slapped herself mentally. Child. Singular.
    Her skin tightened. Corralled. Still, she’d tolerate Reilly’s condescension if he wanted to help develop a local bloodline from wild-brumby stock. Blood seemed that much more important to her these days.
    She took a deep breath. ‘When would you like to go out?’
    They had to tear Molly away from her gift to take a nap, but she fell asleep within minutes. Reilly’s heart had clenched at the saucer size of her eyes on realising the parcel was for her. His own childhood had been full of expensive, exciting gifts that cluttered up his enormous bedroom. That had been delivered by courier. What he wouldn’t have given for a Christmas gift like Molly’s last one: a single day of his mother’s undivided attention.
    Yet his very first instinct had been to buy Molly something, the bigger the better. Actually, the best. He’d even driven all the way to Broome to find it.
    Was Lea right? Was he trying to build himself up in his daughter’s eyes? Would she really remember the expensive Middleton Stables miniature horse-and-stall set longer than their special but completely free ride together that first day?
    His eyes strayed to Lea, leaning forward and tidying up the mess Molly had made in the living area. The move straightened her back and stretched her long neck and shoulders. Reilly’s pulse quickened at the uninvited memory of dragging his mouth up that length of golden flesh, how she’d tasted. His eyes retraced the trail, reliving a hint of the former sensation. Lea glanced up in time to catch his expression. Her gaze tangled in his, wide and alarmed. Unwelcome awareness echoed between them. It settled hot and heavy at the base of his spine. Waiting.
    She flushed, and it dawned on him for the first time that he made her nervous.
    Interesting.
    She stumbled to fill the awkward moment. ‘Do you still ride horses? Rodeo, I mean. The broncos?’
    ‘Rodeo, but not the broncs. I ride pick-up now.’
    She sat back on her haunches. ‘What’s that?’
    ‘If anyone gets in any trouble, the pick-up guys ride in and help out.’
    ‘Does that include the livestock or just the riders?’
    He tipped his head. That wasn’t the first sarcastic comment she’d made about rodeo. It was like she was trying to rev him up. He cleared his throat somewhat uncomfortably. ‘You don’t approve?’
    ‘Nope. Not a fan of rodeo. Two degrees from animal cruelty, in my book.’
    His coffee mug practically frosted over in his hand. ‘Is that so?’
    She took a deep breath, held his stare. Stood straighter. ‘In my book.’
    It was strangely stimulating, that mix of fear and courage painted so honestly on her face. His voice dropped a few tones. ‘We must read different books.’
    His comment triggered an unexpected laugh in Lea. ‘Reilly, I suspect we’re in completely different libraries.’
    He blinked. She didn’t do