Free HORSES AND HEROIN (Romantic Mystery) by Bev Pettersen Page B

breath was still ragged but she wasn’t sure if it was from lack of fitness or because of the odd crackle in the air.
    “Megan,” he said, “I don’t intend to let you go.”
    She glanced sideways, but his hat shaded his expression. She didn’t see the signal to his horse, but both animals moved smoothly into a ground-covering trot, making conversation difficult.
    She yanked her attention back to her riding. At first, she was acutely conscious of his presence but he didn’t say anything more, and she was able to concentrate on the large oval.
    Trotting was even easier on the smoothly harrowed track. Her horse didn’t stumble and moved straight, seeming to know his job and utterly accepting of the composed bay at his side. Obviously racehorses were used to being ponied, and it was a huge help to be able to concentrate on her position and let Scott control their speed.
    A speed he was gradually increasing. And, wow, the horses were galloping now. She was doing it! She was actually galloping on the track. She felt like a jockey, balancing in the stirrups, moving in a natural rhythm with her horse.
    They slowed much too quickly. However, her legs had turned to rubber and her breath was labored so maybe it wasn’t too soon, although her eager horse felt like he wanted to gallop another mile.
    “This is great, thanks. Before, I was putting too much weight on my knees.” She shot him a delighted smile. “I don’t really want to stop.”
    “Me neither,” he said, his eyes intent on her face.
    She swallowed. Her face felt warm but that could easily be blamed on exertion. He wasn’t even doing anything, just looking at her, but he was so damn attractive it left her unsettled.
    “Guess my horse is ready for lunch,” she said lamely.
    “Why don’t you take him back to your barn and have lunch with me?” And then he smiled, so slow and intimate she thought she might hyper-ventilate.
    “I’d like that,” she managed. Boy, would I . “But there’s not enough time,” she added, unable to look away from his mouth. “The cafeteria closes at one-thirty and I have a class right after that.”
    “Dinner tonight then,” he said, so easily she could only nod. “What program are you in?”
    “Exercise rider.”
    “That explains why you wanted to meet at Santa Anita. But you said you made jewelry?”
    “I do. I’m just here for a while…to improve my riding.”
    He tilted his head and she caught a hint of puzzlement in his intelligent eyes. Even to her, the reason sounded lame. “Thanks for helping me,” she added quickly. “I’ve got to get back to the barn. Maybe now I’ll be approved to ride on the track.”
    “I’m sure you will.” He gestured at the dirt trail winding over the ridge. “My horse is stabled in the cowshed. Is my number on your phone?”
    “Scottie’s Massage? It sure is.” She smiled, and even though it was late, she wanted to linger. “I was expecting a massage.”
    “Then I won’t dash your expectations. Call me when you’re ready to eat, and we’ll go from there.”
    The undercurrent in his voice made her grip the reins, but she wasn’t quite ready to leave. She had more questions, like where they would meet and when, but he reached over, gently squeezed her shoulder, then turned and trotted toward the ridge.
    Her horse tried to follow, and she certainly understood the urge. She’d like to follow Scott too. Her skin still tingled from his touch.
    Sighing, she headed back to the barn. At least, she’d see him tonight and wouldn’t have to wait until April. From a more practical aspect, she hoped he knew the cafeteria hours. Probably, since he taught at the cowshed, but it was obvious they’d both miss lunch, and she didn’t want to skip supper too. However, ‘call when you’re ready to eat’ sounded rather vague, and she didn’t want to miss him.
    She adjusted her reins, trying to keep her horse from jigging home, but the gray was alone again and desperate for