Riding the Thunder - Deborah MacGillivray [70]
An odd memory came to mind about her grandmother, Maeve, telling her to get a man young and raise him the way she wanted. After twenty-five they’re too set in their ways and not worth the trouble, she had assured her granddaughters. Of course, Maeve came from another era, when people married and had families in their early twenties. Had life ever really been that simple, or were there just less options to confuse things back then?
She had a feeling Jago was worth the trouble.
“I generally spend Mondays and Tuesdays at the river house,” she told him, trying to sound casual.
Not waiting to see his reaction, she picked up the pitchfork and stabbed the sharp prongs into a bale of clover hay. Pushing it to the opening in the floor, she dropped the feed through the trap door. Being nosy, the cat poked his head over the opening and peered at where the hay bale landed.
“Watch it, bud. You lean over much more and you’ll lose your balance. You’re not the most graceful of putty tats,” she fussed at the feline.
That finally drew Jago’s attention back inside. He took a couple of steps, leaned over and snatched the cat by the tail, then kicked the trap door shut. “I’m not in the mood to find out if kitties really do land on their feet when they’re dropped. My luck, you’d be the exception to the rule and I’d have a puss with four casts on his legs expecting me to tote him around.” He turned to Asha. “So, do I get an invite to the house on the river?”
“Despite Indian summer temperatures, it’s a little cool to go swimming. I enjoy a brisk swim, but most people don’t. However, I thought we could—if you were of a mind—take the boat out for a ride, maybe have a picnic on the sandbar near the lock. The view of The Palisades is breathtaking from the water.”
“I’d be open to a dunk in the river—especially if I had something to warm me up for all the trouble. Think we can arrange a little heat afterward? Do we need to pack, or can we just jump on the Harley and head out?”
“You merely want to take your Harley for a ride. Sigh, used and cast aside. And here I thought you might be a lad who’d enjoy a ‘roll in the hay’—literally,” Asha said with a theatrical waggle of her eyebrows.
“A ‘roll in the hay’ would top the list of my 101 Things To Do On A Rainy Sunday Afternoon with Asha. Riding my vintage Harley would be second. A close second, mind.” Jago’s eyes flashed playfully. “Only, I figured rolling around in the hay wasn’t a smart option. If brother dearest pops up here and finds me ‘teaching you to count’, he might get a little irate. Brothers are known to be rather Neanderthal where baby sisters are concerned.”
“Hmm . . . how do you know Netta isn’t teaching him one . . . two . . . three . . . right now? Maybe they are already in the hot tub. Could be why we haven’t heard a peep from them in the hour since we’ve come back from horseback riding.”
His face brightened as he grinned wolfishly. “Hot tub? Your irritating brother—who won’t sell me his horse—has a hot tub?”
“Liam isn’t annoying. I rather think you two are evenly matched in being stubborn.”
“As I said—irritating.”
“You just like to buy things. You bought the Harley this morning. You don’t need to purchase the horse today.”
“I want the horse,” he persisted.
“You are bloody unrelenting when you want