Holidays on the Ranch (Burnt Boot, Texas #1)(66)

“Might be easier if we weren’t dressed,” he answered.

She pushed him off, crawled out of bed, and hurriedly dropped all her clothing on the floor. His eyes never left her body during the undressing process. Combined with the heat from his hands on her body and the tingle of his fingers entwined with hers, her hands shook as she pushed her underpants down to the floor.

“You are beautiful in the moonlight, but you are absolutely breathtaking in the sunlight, Callie.” He slid over the bed and quickly undressed.

Her arms went around his neck, and with a little hop, her legs were firmly wrapped around his waist. His big rough hands cupped her bottom as he sat down on the bed. In one swift roll, she was underneath him and he was already sinking inside her.

She buried her face in his shoulder and tasted the remnants of his shaving lotion and the delicious part that was just plain old Finn O’Donnell. “It’s a good thing we didn’t know each other like this over there.”

“I know,” he said softly. “We would have never gotten a single mission done.”

Talk stopped.

The rhythm took over with every hormone in her body crying out for release. He took her to the top of a high cliff several times, but he didn’t allow her to tumble over the side into that cool body of water waiting at the bottom. Her body was an electric heater, and he held the remote control. He’d switch it to hot, then back to warm, only to jack it up to scorching hot, and then finally she grabbed the imaginary remote, arched against him, tangled her hands in his thick dark hair, nipped his lip, and said his name in a muffled scream.

“God almighty, Callie.” He collapsed on her.

They were both panting in a rasp when he rolled to one side and took her with him in a tight embrace. “My knees may never work again,” he said hoarsely.

“Mine either,” she said.

And then they slept that deep sleep reserved for babies and consenting adults who have worn their bodies out with hot sex.

***

Snow still lingered on the patches of ground in the deep shade, but for the most part it had melted. Finn and the boys changed the tire on the old truck, and he showed them how to put a piece of wood under the back tires so they wouldn’t spin any farther down into the mud. Then he let them ride in the back of the truck back to the house, where they all gathered the eggs and then helped him muck out the stables.

“Isn’t this a morning job?” Martin asked.

“Can be, but since my ranch hands have to go to school in the morning, I figured maybe we’d turn it into an evening job. We’ll shovel out the stalls, put fresh hay in, groom the horses, and then saddle them up for a twenty-minute ride around this part of the ranch. They haven’t been exercised every day like they should be. Pretty soon I’ll turn them out to pasture, and they’ll get plenty of running. Then you can rub them down and feed them,” Finn said. “While you do that, I’ll go out to the barn and take care of the milking.”

“You mean we get to ride?” Adam said.

“And we get paid to do it?” Ricky said with wide eyes.

“I’ll lead the horses out. A saddle is pretty heavy, so I’ll help you get the horses rigged up to ride when I get done,” he said.

“I only ever rode a horse one time,” Adam admitted.

“It’s okay. We’ll all be learning how to ride. I ain’t rode a real horse either, but I bet we’ll do all right. We’re cowboys,” Martin said. “Come on. I’ll show you where the shovels and the wheelbarrow are kept.”

Finn had never seen three little boys clean faster or harder than those kids did. The stalls were spotless by the time he returned with the brushes from the tack room.

Martin set down a three-legged milking stool and be damned if Rebel stood still and let the kid brush his coat.

Adam balanced on the bottom rung of a stall and Glory’s muscles rippled at every brush stroke.

Ricky found a five-gallon bucket, turned it upside down, and was using it to brush tangles from Miss Mary’s mane. The tamest of all the horses, the old black mare looked like she’d fallen in love with the kid.

“Well, I’ll be triple damned,” he said. “They’re all three naturals.”

When he settled the boys in the saddle and gave them a few basic instructions about how to use the reins to guide them, he found out real quick that they might be naturals with a brush, but they needed some serious training in the saddle.

Martin was the first to slide right out of the saddle, landing in a mud puddle and soaking his whole upper body in icy water the color of chocolate milk. Finn sent him straight to the house.

Adam lasted five minutes longer, and when he tumbled off the horse, he landed in a pile of fresh cow crap. Straight to the house he went, too.

Finn tied Rebel to the barn door and slung a leg up in Glory’s saddle. The big black horse recognized his rider and pranced around in the yard for twenty minutes, strutting in front of Rebel, who voiced his disapproval every two minutes.

Ricky didn’t fall off, but he carefully kept Miss Mary moving in wide circles, letting her have the lead most of the time. He sat as straight as he could in the saddle while Finn exercised both of the other horses and then just sat there inside the barn while Finn unsaddled the other two.

“You can get down now, son,” Finn said.

“I don’t know how and it’s a long way down and I don’t want to fall,” Ricky said honestly.