Free Solitaire by Lindsay McKenna

of Colorado and then what?”
    “Just kicked around the world prospecting like any other crazy rock hound.”
    “What kind of rocks? Is your specialty igneous?” she asked, remembering his tourmaline discovery.
    “Why? Do I remind you of an igneous type?”
    She smiled. Geologists usually chose one of three of the different rock types to specialize in: igneous, metamorphic or sedimentary. “You know what they say about the igneous type: they run hot and molten.”
    “So that’s how you see me, eh?”
    “I see you being bored by sedimentary exploration. You’re strong and robust; you’re the sort who would challenge igneous rock and tackle it with ease. Although we both know sinking mine shafts into rock that doesn’t want to be penetrated isn’t easy.”
    “Granted. Or should I say: granite.”
    “Slade, I’m not even going to laugh because that’s a sick rock joke you’d use on a freshman in geology.”
    “Nobody said my humor was always in top form.” He gave her his innocent little-boy look.
    “Do people always forgive your transgressions?”
    “More importantly, will you?”
    “I don’t hold grudges.”
    “But you’ll remember.”
    Her voice grew soft. “I’ll remember.”
    “Well, enough of me,” Slade countered. “How about yourself? I had the pleasure of meeting your entire family, so I got an idea of what you’re like.”
    “I’m sure Dal and Rafe gave you an earful about me.”
    “Don’t sound so wary.”
    With a grimace, Cat pretended to pay more attention to the sky around them. “All right, you tell me what they said.”
    “Let’s see, what adjectives should I use?”
    “If you use exotic, I’m going to take everything you’re saying as one-hundred percent baloney, Donovan,” she warned him.
    “Texans can be serious at times, too,” he reassured her, attempting a somber look.
    “We’ll see. So what do you think of me, now that you’ve learned all from my family?”
    “You’re a daredevil. Rafe told me how you two jumped your horses between two cliffs.”
    “Did he also tell you that my horse stumbled on the other side and fell? I broke my arm and nose.”
    Slade shook his head. He saw and felt Cat relaxing. She had been so long in isolation with men that she was closed up. He saw the softening of her lips, heard new life in her voice and saw more color stain her cheeks. If nothing else, during the next eight weeks of recuperation, Slade would remind Cat of her decidedly female side, gently drawing all of it to the surface. He knew he could do it; there was a chemistry between them.
    “Rafe said you and he made the jump, but that Dal had chickened out. I’d probably be with Dal.” Slade paused and looked at her. “What you did matches the kind of career you chose. Mining engineers have to be a blend of conservatism and daring.”
    “What I did didn’t take much brains–is that what you’re saying?”
    “Hey, we were all young once and we all pulled our share of foolish stunts. I’m chalking up your wild ride to youth.”
    “If the truth be known, I was scared spitless. Rafe was angry because Dal wouldn’t go and he–well, I let him coerce me into doing it.”
    “But you didn’t want to?”
    “Are you kidding me? That was an eight-foot leap. I was riding a green four-year-old quarter horse who’d never seen a cliff, much less jumped one. I didn’t know if he was going to jump it, skid to the edge, fall into it or what.”
    Slade pursed his lips, going for a second cup of coffee and offering her some. She declined. “Interesting,” he murmured.
    “Oh?”
    Slade put the plane back on autopilot and sipped his coffee. “That gives me a useful piece of information about you.”
    “Uh-oh…”
    He grinned. “It’s not bad. What it tells me is that despite an overwhelming fear, you did what had to be done and carried it out successfully. I call that courage.”
    “That particular stunt was called stupid. What took courage was to tell Dad how I broke