McKettrick's Choice - Linda Lael Miller [48]
The bees didn’t buzz.
The creek, if it ran at all, ran silently.
Earth and Heaven waited and watched.
And the show wasn’t long in coming.
The mule came unwrapped, splintering the box Lorelei had used as a mounting block with one thrust of its hind legs. Lorelei was hurled forward, clinging to the animal’s neck with both arms.
Holt cursed and spurred Traveler to hurry.
The mule leaped in circles, moving so fast that Holt and the Appaloosa had a hell of a time drawing Traveler up alongside. When at long last he did, Holt leaned down, hooked an arm around Lorelei’s waist and dragged her off the mule and onto the saddle in front of him. The Appaloosa damn near took a kick to the chest getting out of the way.
Once they were at a safe distance from the furious mule, who was still putting on quite an exhibition, Holt let Lorelei down to the ground and dismounted in one motion, planting himself square in front of her.
“What the—?” he rasped, and then found that everything else he wanted to say was log-jammed behind the knot of pure, terrified fury sticking in his throat.
Lorelei reddened, glaring up at him. “How dare you?” she sputtered. “How dare you?”
Somewhere nearby, Rafe gave a hoot of laughter.
Holt didn’t spare his brother a glance. Couldn’t look away from Lorelei. He wanted to shake her, wanted, conversely, to check her for broken bones, the way he would a horse after a bad fall. He jammed his face to within an inch of hers and spoke through his teeth.
“How dare I?” he countered. “I probably just saved your life!”
She shook out her skirts, straightened her spine and touched one hand to her hair, which was tumbling in ebony loops around her neck and shoulders. This last was the only sign of hesitation she gave as she stood toe-to-toe with him. “I could have ridden that mule!” she yelled.
“Hallelujah,” said Rafe.
“Shut up,” Holt growled, without looking away from Lorelei’s face. “Don’t you dare use rude language with me!” Lorelei raged. Her eyes flashed with temper, her face was flushed and Holt felt the most contrary urge to kiss her.
So he did. He grabbed her by the shoulders, pulled her even closer and covered her mouth with his.
Dazed and breathless, she slapped him, hard. But it was definitely an afterthought.
CHAPTER 19
“WHERE ARE Raul and Angelina?” Holt asked, the first to break the thrumming silence, one hand to his slap-stung cheek.
Lorelei thrust her shoulders back and lifted her chin, putting Holt in mind of some beautiful bird, settling its feathers after a battle. He thought for sure she wouldn’t answer, might slap him again or even spit in his face. But then she sagged a little. “Raul is in the house, lying down,” she admitted grudgingly. “Angelina is with him.”
At last, she took in Melina, watching with a slight smile from her spotted pony, and Rafe, grinning like a fool.
Rafe tugged at his hat brim, always mannerly with the ladies. “Howdy,” he said. “I’m Rafe McKettrick. Holt here is my brother, but I hope you won’t hold that against me.”
Lorelei’s struggle to keep a sober countenance was visible, but she finally lost the battle and spared Rafe a tenuous smile. Somehow, that made Holt half again as riled as the slap had.
“I guess you can’t be blamed for an accident of birth,” she said.
Holt seethed. He’d lost his hat in the tussle, getting Lorelei off the back of that goddamned mule, and he stormed through the deep grass to recover it. He bent at the waist and snatched it up, slamming it onto his head. Serve that fool woman right if he’d let her finish the ride, he thought.
In the meantime, Rafe must have introduced Lorelei to Melina, because the two of them were shaking hands, Melina leaning down as best she could from the pony’s back and smiling.
Lorelei was cordial as could be—until she turned to face Holt again. She looked like every storm that had ever broken, all compressed into one lightning-eyed woman. “If my mule has been injured in any way,” she said, “I shall expect you to pay for it. I have thirty-five dollars invested in that animal.”
Holt was mad