Free McFarlane's Perfect Bride by Christine Rimmer Page A

ecstatic.
    And he was. But the thrill was muted by theknowledge that whatever progress he was making with CJ was mostly due to the excellent advice of a certain strawberry-blonde schoolteacher. And then there was also the possibility that whatever gains he’d made would be lost if Jerilyn was not at Tori’s house when they got there, if Tori had decided to call the afternoon off.
    Really, he should have discussed the picnic with her before he walked out on her last night. Or called her later.
    But he hadn’t. And now he was stuck with having no clue what would happen when they got to her house.
    Bright move, McFarlane.
    He pushed his dark thoughts away and sent his son a warm glance. “Thanks, I’m okay.”
    â€œYou’re really quiet.”
    â€œJust…thoughtful, I guess.”
    At Tori’s house, the bicycle that had been on the front walk the evening before was propped up on the porch. But other than that, everything looked just as it had last night. He still had no clue whether Tori and Jerilyn were coming with them, or not.
    CJ jumped out of the car and was halfway up the walk before Connor got out and followed him. It was CJ who rang the doorbell. Connor was just climbing the steps when the door opened.
    Tori, in jeans, boots and a cute, snug Western shirt, grinned at CJ. “Right on time.”
    Relief, sweet as cool water on a hot day, poured through Connor. They were going. He’d never been so pleased about anything in his life.
    Jerilyn, also in jeans, peered over Tori’s shoulder. “Hey.”
    â€œHey,” CJ replied, his voice cracking on thesingle syllable. He cleared his throat and said it again. “Hey.”
    Tori’s gaze shifted to meet Connor’s. She gave him a careful smile and a nod. He did the same.
    â€œI packed a basket,” she said. “Some cheese and fruit, some whole-wheat crackers. Some juice…”
    Jerilyn pulled a face. “All totally healthy,” she added. And she and CJ groaned in unison.
    â€œReady to go?” Connor asked.
    â€œYes, we are,” Tori replied, her gaze sliding away from his. “I’ll get the basket and we can be on our way.”
    His relief that she wasn’t backing out on him faded. He could see the day stretching endlessly out ahead of them. A day of careful smiles and sliding glances, of unacknowledged tension.
    But there was nothing else to do but gut it up and get through it. The muscles in his shoulders knotting, he turned and went back down the steps toward the waiting SUV.
    Â 
    It was a good day, the sky clear and blue, with only a few fluffy white clouds gliding slowly toward the west.
    Russ had horses picked out and tacked up for each of them. Connor, who had learned to ride six years before when he opened McFarlane House Louisville at a former horse ranch, got a big palomino mare. Tori got a handsome bay gelding. CJ’s gray seemed calm and steady-natured, as did Jerilyn’s blue roan. Russ, Melanie and Ryan all rode the horses they favored for everyday riding at the Hopping H and at Russ’s original ranch, the Flying J, which abutted the H.
    Melanie had pack saddles full of food and drinks. She tucked the stuff Tori had brought in with the rest, and they rode out.
    In a wide, rolling pasture dotted with wildflowers, they spread a couple of blankets. Melanie and Tori put out the food. They ate as the hobbled horses cropped the grass nearby.
    The kids were finished with lunch in no time. They wandered off to explore, CJ and Jerilyn side by side, Ryan happily trailing along behind.
    The grown-ups chatted about casual stuff. Melanie said she and Russ were turning a nice profit with the guest ranch. Russ talked about buying more land. Connor dared to kid him that if he didn’t watch out, he’d become a land baron. Russ laughed and said maybe he would. His easy response pleased Connor. He was making progress healing the early breach with his cowboy