Her Small-Town Cowboy. Mia Ross

Her Small-Town Cowboy - Mia Ross


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he began in his best conversational tone, “where are you from?”

      For some reason, she held back for a moment, then seemed to decide it was all right to share her hometown with him. “Louisville.”

      After that, she looked around the manicured park, at the horses, the stately oaks arching overhead, anywhere but at him. He couldn’t imagine what all the avoidance was about, but he reminded himself that women were complex creatures no man in his right mind would even pretend to understand. The runaway bridesmaid had a right to her secrets, especially since her personal history was absolutely none of his business.

      Looping onto a path that wound through the rose garden, he switched to a lighter topic. “What do you do?”

      Immediately, her mood brightened, and the smile that lit her face nearly knocked him sideways. “Actually, I just got my first teaching job. I’ll be filling in for a kindergarten teacher for the rest of the school year while she’s out on maternity leave.”

      “Hope it goes well for you.”

      “So do I,” Lily agreed in a tentative voice. “It’s my first assignment since getting my degree, and I have to admit I’m a little nervous about taking over a class this way. Young kids get really attached to their teachers, and I’m hoping they’ll give me a chance.”

      Mike couldn’t picture anyone not taking to Lily right out of the gate, but he opted not to mention that. “You’re bigger than them. How tough can they be?”

      “You have no idea.”

      He wasn’t quite sure what to say, and he searched his limited social repertoire for some encouraging words. When he recalled how Mom used to handle the passel of kids always roaming around the farm, he offered, “If things get too bad, you can always bribe ’em with cookies. Works with me, too.”

      What had possessed him to add that last comment? This pretty teacher couldn’t care less about whether he enjoyed snacks or not. Fortunately, either she didn’t notice his misstep, or she was incredibly forgiving.

      “Cookies,” she echoed with a little grin. “I’ll keep that in mind. Do you have any other suggestions for me?”

      He answered with the kind of laugh that was pretty rare for him these days. “Not hardly.”

      “But you know children like cookies. That’s a start.”

      “Everyone does,” he said, giving her a sidelong glance as he guided the team around a sweeping curve in the path.

      She rewarded his uncharacteristic helpfulness with the most incredible smile he’d ever seen in his life. As he felt himself returning the friendly gesture, inwardly Mike groaned.

      It was a good thing she lived in Louisville. His gut was usually bang on about people, and it was telling him that Lily St. George had the potential to cause him no end of trouble.

      * * *

      Calling Mike Kinley an interesting man would be the understatement of the year.

      To Lily’s great relief, he hadn’t reacted to her name the way most people did when she first met them. That was just the way she wanted it, since she despised having to be pleasant to people who were clearly more interested in her wealthy, connected family than in her. She couldn’t recall how many times supposed friends had asked her for an introduction at one of the many companies her family owned, only to ditch her once they had what they wanted. Finally, in college she’d had the opportunity to start over with a fresh batch of friends who had no clue about her privileged background. She’d confided the truth to a select few, but only after she was confident they’d bonded with her and not her family’s money.

      Mike took her on a leisurely tour of the estate’s breathtaking grounds, and she gradually relaxed as they chatted off and on about nothing in particular. While he concentrated on the horses, she took advantage of the opportunity to study him more closely. Being female, she couldn’t help admiring what she saw.

      Any man would look dapper in the crisp white shirt and gray morning suit, but there was more to his appearance than that. Sun-streaked brown hair brushed his starched collar, telling her he spent a lot of time outdoors. His white gloves rested on the seat between them, and she saw that his large hands were calloused from plenty of hard work. The easy, confident way he held the reins spoke of a lifetime spent around horses.

      And then there were his eyes. A unique mix of blue and gray, they focused on her more directly than most people’s did, as if he was listening intently to her. She didn’t think she was being particularly entertaining, which made his attention even more flattering. Unlike most men she knew who went out of their way to compliment her appearance, this outdoorsy carriage driver actually seemed interested in what she had to say. It was a refreshing change.

      As if that wasn’t enough, he seemed to know everything about the antebellum estate, patiently answering her questions and pointing out various historical spots spread throughout the sprawling grounds. The house itself had been around since the early 1800s, surviving the ravages of the Civil War by serving as a headquarters for both Union and Confederate commanders. The well-tended gardens were breathtaking, filled with brilliant colors and bracketed by what looked to be miles of immaculately trimmed boxwood.

      It was the ideal spot for a wedding, and she could understand why Natalie had chosen it. The husband she’d chosen to share that day with was another matter altogether, but Lily reminded herself it wasn’t her place to question the decisions her younger sister made. Now that the wedding was over, Lily’s only job was to support the new couple.

      Unfortunately, her less-than-stellar experience with Chad made her fear that the freshly minted Mrs. Wellington was going to need all the love and understanding she could get.

      “This is such a pretty spot,” Lily commented while they drove beneath a grove of oaks draped in Spanish moss. Nearby stood the mansion with its wide front steps, where her sister’s photographer had snapped dozens of pictures for the wedding album. “I wonder how many people have been married here over the years.”

      “A few.”

      His tone struck her as being overly polite, and she laughed. “Sorry about that. You must have heard that about a million times.”

      “A few,” he repeated with a wry grin. Pulling gently on the reins, he stopped the horses near a small creek that wound its way through the picturesque clearing in the trees. “If you don’t mind stopping here for a few minutes, the girls could use a drink.”

      “I don’t mind a bit. Would it be all right if I pet them while they’re drinking?”

      He climbed down and gave her a dubious once-over. “You want to handle horses dressed like that?”

      “Trust me—your horses are a lot cleaner than the best man’s toast was.”

      Mike laughed, then held up a hand for her to take. The old-fashioned gesture seemed ideally suited to this fairy-tale setting, and she felt like a princess when she landed on the ground beside him. Her heels sank into the soft soil, and rather than ruin the dyed satin shoes, she stepped out of them onto the velvety grass.

      Squishing her toes into it, she sighed. “That’s the best my feet have felt all day.”

      “Interesting look,” he teased with a grin. “And here I am without my camera.”

      Before she knew what she was doing, she’d stuck her tongue out at him. It was so unlike her, she felt her face reddening with embarrassment. “Mike, I’m sorry. That was rude of me.”

      “No need to apologize. I thought it was funny.”

      He gave her a long, pensive look before turning away to unhitch the horses. While she watched him, Lily tried desperately to regain her usual equilibrium. Raised to anticipate any social situation that might crop up, she wasn’t prone to being surprised out of her well-schooled habits. Somehow, this man, with his windblown good looks and down-to-earth nature, had thoroughly rattled her without even seeming to try.


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