Free Counterfeit Cowboy by Gail MacMillan Page B

because people feel sorry for me and are concerned about me. That’s not fair.”
    “I guess that’s the price you pay for having a high-pressure agent.” Shelby stood and stretched.
    “Hey, sorry.” He turned the television back on. “Didn’t mean to make you miss the rest of the newscast.”
    “Not a problem. I have paperwork to do in my office before bed. Watch TV as long as you like. Just make sure you’re able to get up in the morning, ready for a full day’s work.”
    “Give me a chance. I might surprise you.”
    At the door of her office she paused, then turned slowly back to face him.
    “You could spend the night in the guest room. You’ve had a rough day, and it will be more comfortable there.”
    Damn, it was tempting, with those wonderful emerald eyes so soft and warm, that pretty face and sweet body. Too tempting.
    “I’m fine now.” He stood. “I’m not about to start taking liberties with my position here. I’m Jake Banks, hired hand, and my place is in your bunkhouse. But thank you. I appreciate the offer.”
    “If you’re sure.”
    I’m not sure, but I know it’s the right thing to do. “Positive.” He turned and walked out of the house.
    He paused, before starting down the lane to the cabin, to look out over the bay resting in a flat calm, tinted with the reds, pinks, and purples of a magnificent sunset. A small fishing boat heading inward broke the surface sending out multicolored ripples in its wake.
    A lobster boat? Man, it’s been a long time since I’ve had a fresh boiled lobster. Wouldn’t that go a long way to fixing me up…physically and mentally.
    He watched until the little boat disappeared into a curve of the shoreline, then turned, stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans, and headed toward the cabin, whistling.
    Never mind the lobster. I’m feeling a lot better already.

Chapter Eight
    “Put your fingers back behind her teeth.” The next morning Shelby watched as Jordan struggled to get the bridle on Cinnamon Candy. At eighteen, Candy, the farm’s oldest and most childproof mare, had seen it all, from ten-year-old novices to fifty-year-old grannies. Country music’s superstar would be perfectly safe around the old girl.
    “There!” he said finally, stepping back triumphantly. “Got it.”
    “Well, it is in her mouth, but…” Stifling a chuckle, Shelby pointed at the mare’s ears. One was inside the bridle strap, the other out.
    “Ah, man!” Jordan stepped back and slapped his hands onto his hips. “Sorry, girl,” he addressed the mare. “I bet this is one of the worst days you can remember.”
    As he moved to rectify the situation, the bridle fell off into his hands.
    “Sh-… Sorry, Doctor. I’ve been around four kids who only seem to be able to communicate in street lingo for too long.”
    “Come on, let’s try again.” Swallowing her amusement, Shelby took it from him and eased the bit into Candy’s mouth. She’d seen lots of novices in her time but none that struck her as funny as this handsome “cowboy,” dressed for the part in jeans, plaid shirt, and riding boots, struggling with the docile mare. “See? She’s not going to bite.”
    “Okay.” He heaved a deep breath, then rubbed the mare’s nose. “Bear with me, darlin’. I’ll get the hang of it sooner or later.”
    Candy nuzzled him.
    Now he’s charming my mare. Isn’t there any living thing, human or otherwise, that doesn’t love Jordan Brooks besides me?
    A moment later he threw up his hands, cowboy-roper fashion. “Yeah! Got it!”
    Candy snorted and pranced.
    “Easy, girl.” He moved to comfort her. “Sorry about that. Saw it in a movie. What’s next?” He turned to Shelby.
    “Do it again.” She slid the bridle off the patient mare and handed it to him. “Until you’re comfortable with it.”
    “You’re one tough teacher, ma’am. Blame her, Candy, if your mouth is sore tonight.”
    As he worked the bit back into the mare’s mouth, his concern for