Blame it on the Stetson...

Brant Ellison’s easygoing nature makes him one of the most sought-after horse trainers in Wyoming. His powerful muscles don’t hurt, either. Nothing makes Brant happier than training a new colt at his foster home, Thunder Mountain Ranch—except maybe the colt’s sexy new owner, if she wasn’t all work and no play.

Aria Danes hopes that once trained, the colt will help her injured brother. But Brant is proving to be a distraction from her responsibilities—she has a wicked urge to strip him from his hat to his boots. Ride ’em, cowboy. Aria and Brant can’t get enough of each other. Their craving is insatiable, even if they have nothing in common. Even if some cowboys can never be tied down...

Praise for Vicki Lewis Thompson

“Thompson continues to do what she does best, tying together strong family values bound by blood and choice, interspersed with the more sizzling aspects of the relationship.”

—RT Book Reviews on Thunderstruck

“All the characters, background stories and character development are positively stellar; the warm family feeling is not saccharine-sweet, but heartfelt and genuine, and Lexi and Cade’s rekindled romance is believable from beginning to end, along with the classy, sexy and tender love scenes.”

—Fresh Fiction on Midnight Thunder

“Intensely romantic and hot enough to singe...her Sons of Chance series never fails to leave me worked up from all the heat, and then sighing with pleasure at the happy endings!”

—We Read Romance on Riding High

“If I had to use one word to describe Ambushed! it would be charming... Where the story shines and how it is elevated above others is the humor that is woven throughout.”

—Dear Author

“The chemistry between Molly and Ben is off the charts: their first kiss is one of the best I’ve ever read, and the sex is blistering and yet respectful, tender and loving.”

—Fresh Fiction on A Last Chance Christmas

“Cowboy Up is a sexy joy ride, balanced with good-natured humor and Thompson’s keen eye for detail. Another sizzling romance from the RT Reviewers’ Choice Award winner for best Blaze.”

—RT Book Reviews

Dear Reader,

We’re riding straight into summer, and you know what that means...cowboys! A summer filled with cowboys has become a habit with me and I’m thrilled that so many of you have made it a habit, too! Thank you for your warm enthusiasm for the Thunder Mountain Brotherhood series. Get ready for three more books!

First of all, let’s mosey on out to the barn at Thunder Mountain Ranch, where a foal is about to be born. Brant Ellison, one of the foster boys sheltered at the ranch years ago, has a talent for training foals, and his foster mom, Rosie, has asked him to help with this one. Rosie is always looking for an excuse to bring her boys back home for a visit and if she can play Cupid in the process, so much the better!

She can’t wait for easygoing Brant to meet the foal’s owner, Aria Danes. In Rosie’s opinion, Aria needs to loosen up and who better to teach her than Brant? Aria can’t possibly resist the gentle giant of a cowboy who knows all the tricks for winning over a sweet little colt...or an extremely stubborn woman!

Have fun watching sparks fly, and don’t forget that two more books will follow this one! Cowboy After Dark is Liam and Hope’s story, while Cowboy Untamed is all about Grady and Sapphire. You won’t want to miss them! Oh, and please do come chat with me on Facebook.com/vickilewisthompson or on Twitter, @vickilthompson. I’d love to hear from you!

Warmly,

Cowboy All Night

Vicki Lewis Thompson

www.millsandboon.co.uk

A passion for travel has taken New York Times bestselling author VICKI LEWIS THOMPSON to Europe, Great Britain, the Greek isles, Australia and New Zealand. She’s visited most of North America and has her eye on South America’s rain forests. Africa, India and China beckon. But her first love is her home state of Arizona, with its deserts, mountains, sunsets and—last but not least—cowboys! The wide-open spaces and heroes on horseback influence everything she writes. Connect with her at vickilewisthompson.com, Facebook.com/vickilewisthompson and Twitter.com/vickilthompson.

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For Jess Michaels. You’ve got a friend in me.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Praise for Vicki Lewis Thompson

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Prologue

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

15

16

17

18

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Prologue

“BRANT ELLISON. That’s a good, strong name. It suits you.”

“Yes, ma’am. I like it.” He gave the blonde lady driving the pickup truck a smile. Her name was Mrs. Padgett. So far she seemed nice.

“I don’t know what you’ve been told about Thunder Mountain Ranch.”

“Not much, ma’am. My aunt Susie found out about it and said it’d be the best place for me ’cause I was eating her out of house and home. But don’t worry. I’ve got that problem handled. I hadn’t thought of it before, but you know what? I can fill up on cereal instead of the more expensive stuff.”

Mrs. Padgett made a noise in the back of her throat as if she didn’t like hearing that.

“I’m talking about cheap cereal.” He said it real fast so she wouldn’t turn around and take him back to his aunt’s. Living on this ranch for a while could be awesome. “Corn flakes.”

“I promise you won’t need to fill up on any kind of cereal. I enjoy feeding growing boys. The food’s not fancy, but there’s plenty of it.”

Okay, that sounded great—he began to salivate at the thought of all that good food. Eating was one of his favorite things. Even if this place only lasted a month or two, he’d enjoy it while he could. “I appreciate that, ma’am. I’m grateful that you can put me up for a little while.”

She glanced at him in surprise. “I guess you didn’t get much information, after all. The office is understaffed right now, so I understand how certain procedures get lost in the shuffle. But this isn’t a temporary situation. You can stay as long as you want.”

“Even though I’m a foster kid now? I thought foster kids got moved around. Which is okay. I’m used to that.”

“I’m sure you are.” They stopped at a light and Mrs. Padgett gazed at him with her kind blue eyes.

He recognized that look. It meant the person, usually one of his teachers at school, had read his file and knew that his dad was dead and his mother had flown the coop. At least she’d left him with Aunt Jane, and yeah, that hadn’t worked out, so Aunt Susie had taken a shot, which also hadn’t worked out. But that was life, wasn’t it?

The light changed and Mrs. Padgett went back to her driving. “Brant, you don’t have to leave Thunder Mountain unless you hate it there. And I don’t think you will. The other boys seem happy.”

“Oh, I can guarantee I won’t hate it, ma’am.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m happy anywhere I go. There’s no point in feeling miserable all the time, so I just don’t.”

1

Fifteen years later...

“KEEP COOL, LUCY. I’m almost there.” Brant turned down the dirt road leading to Thunder Mountain Ranch. He hadn’t been back since Christmas, but the scenery was so familiar it felt as if he’d left only a week ago. Spring rains must have been good this year judging from the abundance of yellow and purple wildflowers lining the road. Wyoming was tuning up for summer, his favorite season.

The phone lying on the passenger seat of his truck remained silent, which was a good sign. Rosie, his foster mom, had promised to text if the mare gave birth. It looked as if he might make it in time.

Herb, his foster father and a crackerjack veterinarian, would be down at the barn monitoring the situation. Cade Gallagher, one of his many foster brothers, would probably be there, too. With those two in charge, he didn’t absolutely have to be on hand for the birth.

He just liked it better when he was. Aside from the thrill of watching a new life enter the world, the training process worked better if he could bond with the foal immediately. Herb was a mild-mannered guy, but sometimes Brant had encountered tense owners and vets.

He didn’t like any nervous energy in the birthing stall and he always did what he could to calm things down. By lowering the anxiety level, he could begin socializing a foal immediately. Not a single one he’d worked with from birth had turned into a skittish horse.

His business grew along with his reputation for successfully starting foals, which gave him work he loved and the personal freedom he craved. He would have done this particular job for free in return for the safe haven his foster parents had provided when he’d been a homeless teen. But Rosie and Herb had insisted on paying so he’d gone along with that.

They weren’t hurting for money anymore, thank God. The serious financial issues they’d had a year ago had been resolved with the formation of Thunder Mountain Academy, a residential program in all things horse related. Sixteen high school juniors and seniors had attended the spring semester, which had ended a week ago. Another sixteen were enrolled for the summer session starting in three days.

Rosie and Herb had hoped Lucy would stick to her due date of mid-June so the summer session kids could watch a foal being born. But, like her Peanuts namesake, Lucy had a mind of her own. He’d left for Sheridan on a hunch this morning. Sure enough, Rosie had called him while he was on the road to say the mare was in labor.

Personally he was glad that Lucy had jumped the gun. He’d wondered if having sixteen kids grouped around the birthing stall would have made his job tougher. He could have handled it, but now he wouldn’t have to.

The students would still get to watch him work with the foal as part of their summer curriculum. He’d have three days to establish a routine before they arrived, though, which suited him. He’d never considered trying to pass on his knowledge before, but the more he thought about this gig, the more he liked it.

The sun had begun its descent behind the Big Horn Mountains by the time he arrived at the ranch. He drove straight to the barn and parked next to a cherry-red van with a wheelchair mount on the back and a vanity plate that read COOKIN. The van was empty but the driver’s door was wide-open.

The van probably belonged to the mare’s owner, Aria Danes. According to Rosie, Aria had been three years behind him in school, so he didn’t remember her, but now she worked at the bank where Rosie and Herb had an account. Weird license plate for someone who was in banking, but maybe the lady had a dark sense of humor. If so, he’d enjoy that.

The foal was intended to be a morale booster for Aria’s older brother, Josh, who’d taken a bad fall during a riding event and had mobility issues. Brant vaguely remembered the guy although they’d never been friends. Rosie had heard about Aria’s plan and had offered to board Lucy in exchange for the educational value a pregnant mare and her foal would bring to the curriculum. Rosie loved win-win situations like that.

Brant walked over and closed the van’s door. Aria had left her keys in the ignition and her purse lying on the passenger seat, but that was no problem around here. She and her brother were probably too excited to think about the van.

He understood that. He’d begged to go along every time his foster father had been called out to deliver a foal. Watching the process had convinced him that his future would involve helping those vulnerable babies get a good start in life.

The sound of low-pitched voices drifted through the open barn door. According to Rosie they’d created a birthing stall by taking down the partition between two regular stalls at the far end of the barn. That was where everyone was gathered, including Rosie, Cade and Cade’s girlfriend, Lexi. Herb was probably inside the stall with Lucy.

Brant spotted Cade’s easygoing gray cat sleeping on a blanket thrown across a hay bale. There was no sign of a guy in a wheelchair, but a young woman paced the width of the aisle, head down and arms folded against her stomach. Because he was a guy, he noticed the curve of her breasts and hips.

But he was also a horse trainer who recognized the tension eddying around her. Unwelcome tension. If she had a sense of humor, dark or otherwise, it wasn’t showing.

The skirt of her purple-flowered sundress swirled around her knees with each impatient step. Wavy dark hair that hung to the middle of her back rippled as she moved. Aria Danes was wound tight and that was not good for this impending birth.

Rosie started toward him, followed by Cade and Lexi, but just then the woman glanced up, unfolded her arms and marched in his direction. Rosie paused and motioned Cade and Lexi to do the same.

“You’re Brant. I remember you now. You look the same, only bigger.” Her eyes, an unusual shade of violet, reflected her agitation.

Time to diffuse this bomb. He touched the brim of his Stetson and smiled. “Bigger and I hope better. Pleased to meet you, Aria.”

“Thank God you’re here.” She didn’t return his smile as she tilted her chin to meet his gaze. “Rosie says you have a magic touch with newborns.”

“Now that’s a fact.” He lifted his hat slightly and settled it back on his head. “I can make them appear and disappear, float three feet in the air, change color—”

“Rosie also warned me you like to kid around.”

“On occasion.” And that obviously wasn’t working for her, although he’d heard a muffled snort from Cade.

“I’m not in the mood for jokes.”

“I can see that.” He snuck a quick glance over Aria’s shoulder and his three railbirds were still there taking in the show.

She folded her arms again and frowned. “It’s very important to me and to...to my brother that this foal gets a good start in life.”

“I promise to give it my all, ma’am.” He adopted the soothing tones he used with a nervous horse. “But with all due respect, things will go a lot smoother if everyone stays calm and relaxed.”

She blinked. Then her cheeks turned pink. “Oh, um, I didn’t mean to sound so...” She trailed off with a sigh. “I’m sorry. I’ve been on edge ever since Rosie called me at the bank this afternoon. She said you were on your way, but when I got off work and found out you weren’t here...”

“Well, I made it.” From the corner of his eye he caught Rosie giving him a thumbs-up.

“Yes, you did.” Some of the strain eased from Aria’s expression.

He counted that a small victory. “What about Josh? Couldn’t he come with you?”

Disappointment flickered in her eyes. “No, he... I couldn’t convince him to come. And, to be fair, there’s no set timetable for this, is there? It could be awkward for him if it goes on all night.”

“I suppose it could.” But he wished she’d been able to talk her brother into coming out to be a part of this. It might have done him a world of good. “What do you say we go on down there and check on Lucy’s progress?”

“Absolutely.” She clapped her hand to her forehead. “And I just realized I’ve been keeping you from your family. Not nice.”

“I’m sure they understand that you’re stressed.”

“That’s no excuse.” Straightening her shoulders, she turned, but by that time Rosie and company had resumed their stations right outside the stall, as if they hadn’t been lined up behind her listening to every word. “Rosie, I apologize for intercepting him.” She walked toward the group and Brant followed. “I was just...glad to see that he’d made it.”

“We’re all glad.” Rosie came forward and gave him a fierce mom hug. Usually she dolled herself up when one of her boys was headed home, but today she’d been helping with Lucy and wore practical clothes—an old shirt and faded jeans. Her blond hair was in disarray and her usual red lipstick was AWOL.

As he wrapped his arms around one of the two most important people in his life, he breathed in the cherished floral scent that he associated with comfort and security. The top of her head didn’t reach his shoulder, but she was a bigger person than anyone he knew besides Herb. “Love you, Mom.”

“Love you, too, son.” Then she stepped back and winked at him. “Good thing you made it.”

He grinned back at her. “You ain’t seen nuthin’ yet, little lady. Wait’ll I show you my floating foal trick.”

Cade stepped forward and grasped his hand before pulling him into a quick dude hug. “I can hardly wait, bro.”

“I’ll bet.” Brant was glad to see Cade looking so good—tanned, fit and happy.

“Yeah, I haven’t seen that trick in ages.” Lexi, one of the main reasons for Cade’s happiness, moved in for her hug. A bundle of energy with a curly mop of brown hair, she was the daughter of Rosie and Herb’s closest friends and had been part of Thunder Mountain life for years. “Every ranch needs a resident magician.”

Aria’s frown had reappeared. “Can you really lift that foal in the air? I thought you were making that up.”

“I was.” He’d never come across a more serious woman than Aria Danes.

Her smile was faint, but at least she knew how to create one. “Just wanted to make sure. I don’t want this foal floating anywhere.”

“No floating, I promise.” He felt a tug of sympathy for her. Everyone else knew him well. They could separate jokes from fact.

Lexi stepped into the breach. “You have to take everything Brant says with a grain of salt, but on the plus side, you don’t have to worry that he’ll ever get mad at you. You can’t rile this cowboy. Believe me, I’ve tried.”

Cade laughed. “We’ve all tried. My specialty was rubber snakes tucked into a guy’s bunk. I got a rise out of everyone but Brant. He named that rubber snake Elmer and treated it like a beloved pet. Then he—”

“Hate to interrupt.” Herb’s gentle voice from the depths of the stall brought them all back to the matter at hand. “But it’s show time.” His comment was punctuated with a loud groan from the mare.

Brant walked to the stall door and looked in. Lucy, a golden palomino the color of the setting sun, lay on her side with her flanks heaving. Herb moved with the brisk efficiency of a man twenty years younger as he crouched behind the mare. He’d put on his glasses, always a sign the birth was imminent.

Opening the unlatched stall door, Brant slipped inside. “Hey, Dad.”

He glanced up. “Good to see you, son.”

“You’re looking chipper. Teaching must agree with you.”

“I had no idea I’d love it so much.” He smiled at Brant. “Like old times being together like this, huh?”

“Sure is. Nice feeling.”

“Yep.” Herb held his gaze for a moment before clearing his throat. “All righty, then. You take her head and I’ll handle the business end, just like we’ve always done.”

“Got it.” Nudging his hat back, Brant dropped to his knees in the straw and began stroking Lucy’s sweaty neck. “Easy does it, sweetheart,” he crooned. “Just relax and let nature take its course.”

Lucy snuffled in response.

He laid his hand against the vein pulsing in her neck and held it there. “You’ll be fine,” he murmured, “and your baby will be fine. Just go with it. No worries, Lucy.”

She groaned again and quieted.

“Good,” Herb said. “I just felt her relax. Keep talking.”

Brant settled into the rhythm he’d developed over the years. Moving his hand in slow circles, he congratulated Lucy on the beautiful baby she was about to bring into the world. He praised her bravery and talked about what a good mother she would be.

What joy he felt during these moments. Every time he watched a birth, he felt like a kid on Christmas morning. Or rather, the way he imagined a kid who’d had a typical childhood might feel. His type-A dad had always been on the phone or his computer, even on Christmas morning. Probably why he’d died so young.

With luck and good care, the foal would live thirty or even forty years. It would bring happiness to many people and would be trustworthy because he would teach it not to be afraid. He couldn’t guarantee that every foal’s life would be perfect, but he only accepted jobs when he knew the people in charge were kind.

If Rosie approved of Aria, that was good enough for him. The brother was an unknown, but Rosie must have faith that Aria could handle that situation, too. He believed horses could work miracles with people, so he’d do his part to help this plan along.

“I see the forelegs.” Herb’s voice vibrated with excitement.

Love for his foster father gripped him in a warm embrace. The guy had been delivering foals for many years, yet he still felt the thrill. Herb and Rosie Padgett had been wonderful role models for all their foster boys.

Lucy shifted beneath his hand and her flanks heaved. “Doing great, Lucy,” he said softly. “A few more minutes and we’ll meet your little one.”

“There’s the nose.” Herb nearly chortled with glee.

Someone sucked in a breath. Brant glanced up to see Aria white-knuckling the stall door as she stared at the emerging foal with wide eyes. Rosie, Lexi and Cade had given her the front-row view.

“It’s going well, Aria,” Brant said quietly. He willed her to bring it down a notch.

She nodded without taking her attention from the foal. Then she took a deep breath and her shoulders relaxed a little. She was trying.

“And there you go,” Herb said. “Just like that. All done. Lucy, you have a beautiful little colt.” He reached for a bucket and began cleaning the glistening membrane away.

Brant glanced up at Aria and smiled. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks.” Her response was shaky and she blinked away tears as she continued to hold on to the stall door for support. Behind her the others kept up a happy little buzz of conversation. Their camera phones clicked many times, but Aria didn’t move.

“Yep, he looks great,” said Herb. “Brant, ready to switch with me while I check Lucy’s vitals?”

“You bet.” Brant traded places with Herb and sank to his knees next to the peach-colored colt. This little guy might turn out to be a palomino like his mom. “Pleased to meet you, buddy.” He picked up a clean towel from the stack Herb had brought in and began slowly wiping the colt’s damp coat while he murmured every compliment he could think of.

When the foal was reasonably dry, he discarded the towel and used his bare hands to massage the tiny body. Then he raised his voice enough that Aria would be able to hear him. “Does this fellow have a name?”

“Linus,” came the whispered reply.

That made him smile. Linus had been his favorite Peanuts character.

“Can I...can I come in?”

He mentally crossed his fingers. “Sure.” He kept his focus on the baby, who seemed relaxed. “Just do it slowly. No quick movements.”

Her flowery perfume was subtle, but he registered it as she knelt in the straw beside him. The straw must be rough on her bare knees, but she didn’t seem to notice. Her breathing was steady and he didn’t feel tension coming from her. For a moment she didn’t say anything.

He wasn’t surprised. Miracles had a tendency to rob people of speech. He would have been disappointed if she’d started chattering away, oblivious to the wonder of watching a life begin.

At last she spoke, awe in her voice. “He has a blaze.”

“Yep.”

“And blue eyes.”

“For now. They’ll darken later.”

“He’s...perfect.”

“Yes, he is.” The emotion in her voice matched what he felt every time he attended a birth. He didn’t know much about her, but judging from her reaction to this foal, he would get along with her. If she could manage to relax a little more, they’d get along even better.

2

AS THEY ALL headed back to the house for a celebratory dinner, Aria was still puzzling over this exceedingly tall and muscular cowboy with the gentle voice. Her high school memories of him were vague, although she’d recognized him the minute he’d walked into the barn. But she hadn’t spent any time with him before today and hadn’t been prepared for his laid-back attitude.

When it came to this foal, she wanted a trainer who had laser-like focus. Rosie had said Brant was the best, but Rosie was prejudiced. She thought all her foster boys were the best.

Aria couldn’t deny that Brant had concentrated on the task during Linus’s birth. He’d been calmer than Herb. Although she didn’t fully trust his relaxed manner, she’d felt it settle over her like a soft blanket when she’d dropped to her knees to pet the foal.

Slowly her agitation had been replaced by awareness of Brant, the man. How unnecessary. How inappropriate. In spite of that, she’d noticed the ripple of muscles in his tanned forearms. She’d glanced at his profile and admired his strong nose and well-defined chin.

As if he’d felt her gaze on him, he’d looked her way. The warmth in his hazel eyes had stolen her breath. He loved animals. She could trust him with Linus. That might be all she needed to know.

On the way to the house, Cade, Lexi and Brant walked ahead with Cade’s gray cat, Ringo, trotting behind them. At one point Brant stopped, scooped up the cat and carried him. Ringo wore a blissed-out expression as he perched on Brant’s wide shoulder.

She couldn’t hear the cat purring at this distance, but with Brant stroking him, he must be. Brant made some remark about being a certified cat whisperer. Then he started whispering to Ringo and whatever he said sent Lexi and Cade into hysterics.

What a happy soul, this Brant Ellison. She wondered what it felt like to be that relaxed. She wouldn’t know.

Whether due to nature or nurture, both she and her brother had been high-energy kids who’d thrived on competition. She’d always known she’d run her own business someday and Josh had expected to ride his way to fame and fortune. Although fate had knocked him down, she was determined he’d get back up.

Brant must have been knocked down, too, or he wouldn’t have landed in foster care as a teenager. But if he’d been emotionally traumatized, he hid the damage well.

Rosie and Herb walked on either side of her on the way back to the house. “I’m sorry Josh wasn’t here.” Rosie’s voice was filled with compassion. “I know how much you wanted him to be a part of it.”

“He’d said he would come, but then he changed his mind. He must have had a bad day.”

“I’m sure it’s tough.” Herb took off his glasses and tucked them in his shirt pocket. “I’ve never had to use a wheelchair, thank God. Is he making any progress with his physical therapy?”

This was a recent development Aria hated talking about. “He’s stopped going. Says it’s no use.”

“Huh.” Herb tugged on the brim of his hat, a gesture that usually meant a cowboy was buying some thinking time. “He’d have an easier time working with Linus if he could get out of that chair.”

“I know. I thought he’d be motivated by Lucy’s impending due date. Instead he seemed to get more depressed.”

Rosie put her arm around Aria’s shoulders and gave her a quick hug of support. “Linus is a handsome colt. Wait’ll Josh gets a look at him. He won’t be able to resist that sweet baby.”

“He is handsome.” Aria’s throat tightened with gratitude. “Thank you both for making this possible. I didn’t have a clue what I was getting into.”

Rosie chuckled. “I could tell. I’m glad you went for the idea of boarding Lucy here.”

“So am I,” Herb said. “I haven’t delivered a foal since I retired. That was a blast.”

“You did a fabulous job, Herb. So did Brant.”

“He has the touch,” Herb said. “I knew that the first time I took him along on a call and watched him with a pregnant mare. Then he went nuts over the foal and he’s been in love with the process ever since.”

“So why didn’t he become a vet like you?”

“I can’t say for sure, but he never expressed any interest in the other parts of the job. He only wanted to come with me when a mare was foaling. Besides, he doesn’t like being tied down, and a vet needs to live in one place and establish a practice.”

“Yeah, that wouldn’t fit Brant,” Rosie said. “He likes to stay loose, take life as it comes.”

The exact opposite of her, Aria thought. She required routine, stability and concrete goals. Her brother’s uncertain future coupled with his lack of focus had worn her to a frazzle. “Thank goodness he was available today.”

“It was meant to be.” Rosie looked pleased with herself. “Did you get pictures? I didn’t see you taking any.”

“I didn’t have my phone. I left my purse and my phone in the van and didn’t even think about pictures until it was too late.” And that was unlike her. She was usually a details person, but having Lucy go into labor early had thrown her off her game.

“That’s okay. We all took some. We’ll text them to you. That will light a fire under that Gloomy Gus of yours.”

Aria smiled as she followed Rosie up the porch steps. Rosie’s confidence boosted her own. “I’m sure you’re right. By the way, are you going to let me cook tonight? I really want to, after all you’ve done today.”

She’d discovered her passion for cooking through sharing meals with her best friend Camille’s large Italian family. Her bank job allowed her to save money toward her goal of opening a cooking school. In the meantime she made deliveries for Camille’s restaurant in exchange for using the kitchen to give classes on Monday nights. She lived for those classes.

Rosie paused before going inside. “You sure don’t have to. I thawed some chicken and planned to bread and fry it like usual.”

“Do you have mushrooms?”

“I think so. Yes, I’m pretty sure I do.”

“I saw a package of mushrooms in the fridge,” Herb said as he joined them on the porch.

“Okay, good. How about bacon and pearl onions?”

“I always have bacon, and I still have some pearl onions left over from the last time you cooked for us. What are you leading up to?”

“Coq au vin! It’s one of my new specialties. I taught the recipe to my cooking students last Monday night and everyone loved it.”

“Coq au vin?” Herb’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“Wait a minute,” Rosie said. “I just remembered it’s Friday night. What about your deliveries for Camille? Can you even stick around, let alone cook dinner?”

“Absolutely. I called her after I heard from you. For all I knew Lucy could have been in labor all night and I wasn’t going to leave to make deliveries. Camille asked her sister to fill in for me.” She let out a breath. “So I actually have the night off.”

“What a concept,” Herb said. “Nobody works harder than you.”

“I don’t mind. I like staying busy.” Especially when going back to her apartment meant dealing with her brother. She’d optimistically encouraged him to move into a first-floor apartment in her complex so she’d be available for anything he needed during his recovery.

But instead of helping him get better, she was forced to watch him giving up. He’d found an IT job that allowed him to work from home and set his own hours, so theoretically he didn’t need to learn to walk again.

“There’s such a thing as being too busy,” Rosie said. “Why not let us fix you dinner while you relax on the porch with a glass of something refreshing?”

“That’s very sweet, but cooking is fun for me, and doing it for people I care about is even more fun. Your kitchen is one of my favorite places in the world, especially when everybody hangs out while I’m fixing the meal.”

Herb looked at Rosie. “Then it looks like we’ll be feasting on coq au vin tonight.”

Aria saw a subtle message pass between them. “Is that a problem? I didn’t think to ask if you hated it. I can make something else with the chicken. I don’t have to—”

“We both love it,” Rosie said. “We had it on our honeymoon in Jackson Hole at the fanciest restaurant we’ve been in before or since. I briefly considered trying to make it, but one look at the complicated recipe took care of that.”

Aria began having misgivings. “Was it a five-star restaurant?”

“Probably.” Herb chuckled. “There were no prices on the menu, so the bill was a bit of a shocker, but...” He shrugged and gave Rosie a fond glance. “It was worth it.”

“Hey, slowpokes!” Brant opened the front door and came out holding two frosty champagne bottles with vapor coming from the uncorked necks. “We fed the cat and then I found these hiding in the rec room fridge with a bunch of their buddies. Looks like we’re all champagned up for this occasion.”

“I knew we’d be celebrating,” Rosie said, “so I stocked in plenty.”

“Excellent.” Brant nodded in satisfaction. “So are we going to toast Linus or stand around gabbing all night?”

“I’m ready to toast.” Lexi walked out on the porch, clutching four champagne flutes by the stems. Cade followed with two more.

Aria was charmed by their enthusiasm. Although she wished Josh had come with her, she couldn’t predict his moods anymore and he might have been a sourpuss. Maybe it was just as well he’d stayed home. She took the flute Lexi handed her.

After everyone had glasses, Lexi turned to Brant. “Okay, do your thing.” She moved over next to Aria. “Hold your flute next to mine and be amazed by the two-fisted pourer.”

“Aw, shucks, Lexi.” Brant ducked his head. “You’ll make me blush.”

Lexi snorted. “As if. You’re too cool to blush.”

“When you’re right, you’re right.” Grinning, Brant lifted both bottles and filled their glasses without spilling a drop.

Cade rolled his eyes. “You are such a show-off, Ellison.”

“Just honoring the lady’s request for a demonstration of my unique skill.” He turned the bottles upright with a flourish and glanced at Aria. “You’re in charge of the toast, so make it good.”

Aha. A challenge. Anticipation fizzed within her like the champagne bubbles in her glass. “Oh, I see. No pressure.”

“None at all.” He used the same dramatic pouring routine for Rosie and Herb. “Just be aware that some excellent toasts have been made on this porch, so the bar’s pretty high.” He winked at her before continuing over to Cade.

“Way to go, Ellison,” Cade said. “Intimidate our special guest.”

“I’m not intimidated.” A task she could handle got her blood pumping, but Cade and Brant might not know that. She waited until everyone had champagne before raising her glass. “To everyone who’s a part of Thunder Mountain Academy. Today a handsome colt named Linus became linked with its history and I thank you all for giving him that honor.”

Cheers and whistles of approval followed. Before taking a sip, Aria looked over and caught Brant’s smile. She was ridiculously pleased that he seemed to like her toast.

“Now that we all have champagne,” Rosie said, “we should move this party into the kitchen. Aria’s going to make coq au vin.”

Brant’s eyebrows lifted. “That sounds sexy and possibly illegal. I’m in.”

“Down boy.” Lexi patted his chest. “It’s chicken cooked in wine.”

“It’s way more than that.” Herb moved to the door and held it open as they all trouped inside. “It’s a dish fit for the gods.”

Although Aria had faith in her cooking skills, she’d never put her work up against that of a highly paid chef. “I can’t promise a dish fit for the gods. Your chef in Jackson Hole probably studied in Paris.”

“What chef are we talking about?” Once they were in the kitchen Brant emptied the rest of the champagne into Rosie’s and Lexi’s glasses.

“The one who cooked their most memorable honeymoon dinner, which happened to be coq au vin,” Aria said.

“No kidding? This is new information.” Dropping the empty bottles into a recycling bin, Brant turned to Cade. “Do you remember hearing anything about this?”

“No, but they got married, so it stands to reason they’d have a honeymoon.”

“Of course we had a honeymoon.” Herb leaned against the kitchen counter. “Three days in Jackson Hole.”

Cade nodded. “There you go. So, logically, you had honeymoon food, and it stands to reason it would be fancy and pricey.”

“Huh.” Brant polished off the last of his champagne. “I always figured honeymoon food would be booze and munchies.”

Aria spoke without thinking. “Remind me never to go on a honeymoon with you.” Then she realized what she’d said and felt her cheeks warm. When Cade grinned at her, she braced herself for some teasing.

But then he surprised her by turning to Brant. “I would never go on a honeymoon with you, either, Ellison.”

Brant’s deep laughter filled the kitchen. “And here I was all set to propose, bro. Way to shoot a guy down.”

“Seriously, Aria.” Cade gestured toward Brant with his champagne flute. “This guy may be able to double-fist a couple of champagne bottles, but after that, it’s nothing but chips and peanuts. Maybe some cheese. He has no concept of honeymoon-worthy dining. Keep that in mind.”

“I will.”

Brant shrugged. “I like things to be simple and straightforward. Nothing wrong with that.”

“There is if you’re talking about that special time after the ceremony when you pull out all the stops,” Cade said. “Obviously, Dad knew that.” He set down his empty glass on the kitchen table. “But if we’re going to continue this discussion, we need more bubbly and I know where to find it. Be right back.”

“We can drop the subject of our honeymoon.” Rosie opened the refrigerator and began pulling out ingredients. “It was a long time ago and I’m sure customs have changed.”

“Have not!” Cade called out from the rec room.

Rosie chuckled. “He’s really looking forward to having one, Lexi.”

“I know. He probably will, eventually. Hey, Aria, Rosie and I can be your sous chefs, or whatever they’re called.”

“No, you can’t.” Brant put aside his empty glass. “You’ve both worked hard all day while I’ve been sitting on my butt driving. Allow me to help Aria. The rest of you have a seat. We’ve got this.”

Cade walked back into the kitchen with an unopened bottle of champagne. “Did I hear that right? Is Ellison, the chips and peanuts king, going to help prepare this fancy dish?”

“I actually don’t need anyone to help.” Aria wasn’t sure she’d be able to concentrate with Brant standing right next to her at the stove. Earlier she’d thought of him as a calming presence, but he wasn’t having that effect on her now.

“I promise not to get in your way.” His smile was endearingly genuine. “And I’m very good at taking direction.”

“I’ll vouch for that.” Herb pulled out a chair for Rosie and motioned her over to it. “The guy knows how to listen.”

“I reluctantly admit that’s true,” Cade said. “He may turn out to be good at this, after all. Mom, more champagne?”

“Love some.” Rosie sat and allowed Cade to refill her glass. “If I’m not going to help cook, then maybe we should talk about what needs to be accomplished this weekend. I haven’t allowed myself to think about that today because Linus took priority, but those kids will be here before we know it.”

“Even more reason I should be the one to help, so you guys can discuss academy stuff.” Brant turned to Aria, his expression hopeful. “Right?”

“Right.” Dear God, what had she gotten herself into? First she’d offered to cook a dish that was loaded with significance for Rosie and Herb, and now she’d be working with a sexy cowboy. She relished a challenge, but this might be a bigger one than she’d anticipated.

The four people sitting at the table obviously assumed she had the meal under control. Herb rounded up a pen and pad of paper while Rosie began outlining the weekend’s projects. Ringo snoozed in his bed tucked into a corner of the kitchen.

Aria glanced over at Brant.

He laced his fingers together and turned his palms out as he stretched both arms in front of him. Then he jogged in place. “Put me in coach. I’m ready to play.”

She couldn’t help laughing. “All right. While I prepare the onions, you can cut the bacon into one-inch pieces, cover the pieces with water and boil them.” She pulled a saucepan out of the cupboard and handed it to him.

“I’m boiling the bacon.” He sounded amused. “Can’t say I’ve ever done that before.”

“You’re probably used to pan-frying it.”

“To be honest, bacon isn’t my long suit.”

“Well, this part is easy. Once you have it cut up and in the pan of water, turn the heat to high. When it starts boiling, turn the heat to low and let it simmer for ten minutes.”

“I can do that.”

“So what’s your long suit?”

“I’m a pretty fair hand with toast.”

“I see.” She wasn’t sure how he could be funny and sexy at the same time, but he pulled it off.

“Okay, I’ll come clean. I don’t know anything about cooking.”

“Then why did you volunteer to help me?”

“Because I want to get to know you better.” He turned away and started cutting up the bacon as if he hadn’t just dropped a conversational bombshell.

Her heart rate picked up. “Why?” Trying to be nonchalant, she filled another saucepan with water, set it on a burner and switched the heat to high.

“I’m about to work with your foal. I want him to suit you.”

So maybe his gesture had been strictly business-related. “But actually he needs to suit my brother, not me.”

“I suppose that’s true. Then I’ll try this answer on for size. You intrigue me.”

“Oh?” Maybe his motives weren’t strictly business-related. Maybe he was interested in her as a person. He even might be interested in her as a woman. She didn’t need that kind of complication in her life, so why was her pulse racing?

“Is that other pan of water supposed to be boiling, too?”

Startled, she glanced at the bubbling water. “Yes. Yes, it is.” She dumped the onions in. “How’s that bacon coming along?”

“Just scooped the pieces into the water and turned on the heat. Am I good or what?” He did a little victory dance.

“Yes, you’re amazing.” Although he made her laugh, he was horribly distracting. At this rate she’d ruin the meal. “But you know what? I can handle it from here if you want to hang out with the others.”

He grinned. “Trying to get rid of me?”

“No, of course not.”

“Tell the truth, Aria.”

She hesitated. But Lexi had claimed nothing bothered him. “I admit you’re destroying my concentration.”

“Damn. And here I promised not to get in your way.”

“You’re not getting in my way. It’s my fault. I’m not paying attention to what I’m doing and that could be a problem, especially when I set fire to the brandy.”

“You’re going to set fire to it on purpose?”

“Yes, and I—”

“So this is one of those flaming dishes?”

“Yep.”

“Hot damn. I’ve always wanted to see how that’s done. Look, I won’t make any attempt at conversation. I won’t say a word unless it’s required. I’ll just stand here and do what I’m told. Can I stay?”

She couldn’t very well admit that he could turn her brain to mush simply by his existence. She took great pride in her cooking. Sending him back to the table would be the smart thing to do. But that wasn’t what came out of her mouth. “Sure.”

“Thanks.”

She prayed that she wouldn’t burn down the house.

3

BRANT KNEW HE made Aria nervous, but backing off wouldn’t solve the problem. So he’d moved in closer and joked around with her, which had worked better. He couldn’t say for sure if her skittish behavior was a sexual thing, but he suspected she might be unwillingly attracted to him.

He was definitely interested in her, but he could dial that back if she wasn’t in the market. A boyfriend didn’t seem likely unless he wasn’t in town. She’d put her heart and soul into Linus’s birth so any guy worth her time would have been here for the event.

She could be hesitant to encourage a new relationship for any number of reasons, and he’d respect that. Her uptight attitude in the beginning had put him off a little, but after they’d shared a special moment while admiring the newborn colt, he’d found himself liking her, after all. He’d looked forward to being around her a little more. Then she’d proudly given her champagne toast.

He hadn’t been prepared for the visceral punch of desire as she’d stood on the porch in her flirty little dress, glass raised and sincerity ringing in her voice. Despite not knowing her very well, he’d been swamped with lust. He’d desperately wanted to kiss her. He’d wanted to do a lot more than that.

So he’d volunteered to help her fix the meal to see how she reacted to working closely with him. She’d admitted he was a distraction, which probably meant she was interested in him, too. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that she was resisting that attraction.

If so, they should have a frank discussion about it. That little colt would pick up on either positive or negative tension between them and he wanted Aria to be part of the training process. That way she could continue using his methods after he’d left.

Ideally her brother would participate, but no telling how that would turn out. Aria already loved the colt. Brant had seen it in her eyes. If her brother lost interest, she would take full responsibility for Linus’s welfare, which meant she needed to be included in the early stages of his socialization.

Right now, though, wasn’t the time for that discussion. He didn’t plan to talk at all unless necessary. Following her instructions, he cut up the mushrooms while she cooked the onions and bacon in a heavy skillet. He concentrated on being totally nonthreatening as they worked silently side-by-side.

Gradually her shoulders lowered and her breathing evened out. He matched that rhythm and she seemed to loosen up a little more. She was getting used to having him close by. She might not be flattered to discover he was using a horse training technique to settle her down, but she’d never hear that from him.

Unfortunately, watching a beautiful woman prepare food was like foreplay. Her breasts shifted gently beneath her flowered dress as she stirred the onions and bacon. Heat from the skillet created a flush on her skin. Or maybe his presence did that.

If they’d been alone, he would have reached out to stroke a finger along the dewy curve of her cheek. He would have been able to judge where they stood from her reaction. But they weren’t alone, which left him with an ache that wouldn’t be satisfied now and might never be.

She was good at this cooking stuff, which probably explained her vanity plate. He’d never watched someone prepare a fancy dish like this, but Aria knew what she was doing.

Her obvious mastery impressed him and her calm instruction struck a chord. After all, that was how he worked. Under her watchful eye, he took the onions and bacon out of the pan and put them on a plate while she got the chicken ready.

“When the chicken’s browned,” she said, “that’s when the flaming brandy comes into play.”

“Do you mean brown like a buckskin or brown like a bay?” He’d spent all his adult life on ranches where someone else had done the cooking and he’d done the eating. Although he’d helped Rosie in the kitchen because she’d required all the boys to take a turn, she’d never attempted something this complicated. He found the process almost as fascinating as the cook.

“Somewhere in between those two. It’ll take about ten minutes.” She carefully flipped the pieces of chicken in the pan as she glanced over at him. “Do you want to pour the brandy or light it?”

His macho instincts kicked in. “Light it, of course. Even though I can’t cook, I know my way around matches.”

“I’ll just bet you do. And we should probably warn everybody what’s about to happen. They won’t be expecting flames.”

“I thought Rosie and Herb had this once before.”

“They did, but the flaming part was probably done in the kitchen. Rosie might know because she checked out the recipe years ago, but I can picture Herb dousing it with the fire extinguisher.”

Brant laughed. “That would be—” Then he caught Aria’s thunderous expression. “Terrible. Absolutely terrible.”

“Exactly.” She met his gaze and gave him a sunny smile. “Why don’t you tell them?”

“Okay.” One look into those violet eyes and he was a goner. No point in fooling himself. He wanted her. But if she didn’t want him, or did want him but wasn’t happy about that, he’d recalibrate.

“I’d suggest you explain it to them now, though,” she added. “We’re minutes away.”

“Right.” He reluctantly stopped gazing into her eyes and walked over to the kitchen table.

Herb glanced up. “Don’t tell me it’s done already.”

“Not yet.” He realized he had incomplete info and turned back toward Aria. “How much longer before it’s ready to eat?”

“After the flaming part, it needs to simmer at least another forty-five minutes.”

Cade got out of his chair. “Then how about some more champagne and maybe some munchies?”

“Just don’t spoil your appetite, hotshot.” Brant had become protective of this meal prepared by a woman he admired. “The food will be primo.”

“I have no doubt,” Rosie said. “But cheese is very French.” She left the table and in moments was back with a cutting board, a knife and a block of cheddar.

She offered some to Brant but he shook his head. “No, thanks. I’m saving my taste buds for the main event. But we’re about to pour brandy over the chicken and light it. When flames shoot up, we don’t want anybody to panic.”

“Flames?” Herb straightened in his chair. “Is that absolutely necessary?”

“It is if you want the real deal,” Aria called over.

“She’s right.” Rosie passed the cheese board around. “The torched brandy was the reason I never tried it. That’s not in my repertoire.”

Lexi stood. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I want to watch this flaming chicken trick.”

“Me, too.” Cade put down the champagne bottle he’d been about to open.

Herb scooted back his chair. “I should probably get the fire extinguisher.”

“No, you will not.” Rosie gave him a look. “Aria knows what she’s doing.”

“She absolutely does,” Brant said. “She’ll pour the brandy and I’ll light it. Easy peasy.”

Cade gazed at him. “You’ve done this before?”

“No, but how hard can it be?”

“Like I was saying.” Herb headed for the pantry. “Nothing wrong with having the fire extinguisher handy.”

Brant joined Aria at the stove while the rest of them gathered in a semicircle behind them. If his foster father tried to use the extinguisher, Brant was prepared to stop him. Whether Aria wanted one or not, she had a knight in shining armor. “Nothing like cooking with an audience, huh?”

She sprinkled some flour on the chicken and continued to turn it in the pan. “I do it once a week. My friend Camille lets me use her restaurant kitchen to give cooking classes every Monday night.”

“No kidding? That’s great.” And it explained her teaching skills.

“Aria’s a busy lady,” Rosie said. “Works forty hours a week at the bank, teaches the class on Mondays and makes deliveries for Camille’s restaurant on the weekend.”

“Wow.” Having her participate in Linus’s training might not be easy to arrange. Maybe that explained her hesitation where he was concerned. She was too damned busy. “When do you have fun?”

“Having fun isn’t a priority.”

He noticed that she didn’t sound resentful. Apparently she liked being under pressure, whereas he avoided it like the plague. He might want her, but they were a total mismatch. The next couple of weeks could be interesting.

She studied the pieces of chicken as they gradually turned a golden brown. “I’m ready to pour the brandy. Do you have the match?”

“Right here.” He held up the long match he’d found in a can by the fireplace. “And some extras, although I won’t need them.”

“And something to strike it on?”

“I’ll use my thumbnail.” When she frowned at him he felt the need to defend the practice. “It’s something my brothers and I taught ourselves when we lived here. I’m good at it. We all are.”

“And let me add that I disapproved back then and I still do,” Rosie said. “But they’re convinced it makes them manly.”

“Which it absolutely does,” Brant said. “Whenever I strike a match with my thumbnail, I grow extra chest hair.” He glanced over his shoulder at Cade. “Right, bro?”

“Yep, and my pecs get bigger, not to mention my—”

“That’s enough,” Rosie said. “We don’t need to hear about that.”

“I do,” Lexi said. “I had no idea. Cade, strike those matches any time you get the urge. I’ll buy you a few extra boxes.”

Brant laughed. “Let’s just say that a cowboy who can strike a match with his thumbnail gets respect. Ask anyone.” He paused. “Except Mom. She doesn’t get it.”

“Neither do I,” Aria said. “But strike that match however you care to.” She doused the chicken with brandy. “Just do it now.”

Naturally the first match wouldn’t cooperate. The second one wasn’t any better. “Guess I’m out of practice. Hang on a sec—”

“Here you go.” Herb appeared at his side with a butane lighter.

“Uh, no.” Aria looked panicked. “Just a match, please.”

“Then light the match with the butane,” Herb said.

Brant hesitated. “Let me have one more try.” From the corner of his eye he saw Cade smirking. There would be payback for this.

“Do it this way, son. The brandy’s waiting.”

“I guess you’re right.” He lit the match with the butane and eased it toward the chicken. The brandy caught with a whoosh and fire leaped from the frying pan.

Everyone gave a little gasp—everyone except Aria and Herb. She watched the flames with a smile of satisfaction.

Herb picked up the fire extinguisher. “Shouldn’t you put the lid on the pan to smother that?”

“It’ll burn down in a minute,” Aria said.

Rosie gestured toward the flames. “See, Herb? This is why I never tried to make coq au vin.”

“For which I’m grateful.” He lowered the fire extinguisher as the fire gradually died.

Lexi stepped closer and peered into the frying pan. “That was cool.”

“I like a little drama in my cooking. Keeps things interesting.”

Brant filed that statement away as another clue to her personality. So far he’d pegged her as somewhat driven, a trait that he associated with his dad’s workaholic behavior. But unlike his father, she wasn’t a martyr. She’d found a creative outlet that gave her a joyful purpose.

That still didn’t leave room for him to approach her other than as the owner of the foal he’d agreed to train. He hadn’t come here expecting anything else. But he hadn’t pictured working with Aria, either. She was damn near irresistible and he’d have to resist. Somehow.

“That’s the showiest part.” Aria added the cooked onions and bacon to the pan. Then she poured some red wine over everything.

“I was wondering where the wine came in,” Lexi said. “Have you taught your students to make this?”

“Last Monday.”

“I didn’t realize a cooking class could be so exciting.” Lexi turned to Cade. “How about you and me signing up for some classes?”

“Sure, I’m game.”

“I’d love to have you.” Aria sprinkled in some herbs and more wine. “But just so you know, there’s no class this Monday. Camille always stays open on Memorial Day, so I’ll be making deliveries for her.” She put the lid on the frying pan. “That needs to simmer for about thirty minutes before I put in the mushrooms.”

“Hallelujah! Time to head for the watering hole.” Brant gestured toward the table. “After you, ma’am.”

“You go ahead. I need to sauté the mushrooms.”

“I’d offer to do it for you but sauté sounds like a square-dance move to me.”

“I could do it,” Lexi said, “but I hesitate to meddle with such an elaborate concoction.”

Rosie nodded. “Same here.”

“I’ll be done in a few minutes.” Aria dropped some butter into another frying pan.

Her comment had a familiar ring. His dad used to promise that the business call he had to make would only take a few minutes and then he’d be available to play catch, or go to a movie, or take a hike. Those promises had rarely panned out.

Maybe he should douse this flame of lust before it got him into trouble. “Your bubbly will be waiting for you.” He picked up her champagne flute along with his and walked over to the table.

“’Bout time you showed up.” Cade slid open a box of kitchen matches and dumped it in the middle of the table.

Rosie groaned. “Here we go.”

“Brant Ellison?” Cade looked up, his green eyes sparkling.

“Dear God, you’ve gone senile. You don’t recognize me anymore.”

“I recognize you just fine, and I hereby challenge you to an official Battle of the Sacred Flame.”

“A Battle of the Sacred Flame.” Lexi grinned. “I haven’t heard those fateful words in years. Takes me back.”

“Doesn’t it, though?” Rosie shook her head. “Ah, for the good old days filled with testosterone and the smell of sulfur. I’d love to know what bonehead started this activity but nobody will say.”

As Brant sat at the table and reached for the champagne bottle, he avoided looking at Herb. Rumor had it that Herb had taught Cade how to light a match this way. Then Cade had taught Damon Harrison, the second boy to arrive, and so on. The trick had spread like...well, wildfire. “What’s on the line?”

“I would say your reputation.” Cade folded his arms and smiled. “But you obviously don’t give a damn about that if you’d surrender to a butane lighter, so let’s make it interesting. First guy who fails to light a match will wash the other guy’s truck in the morning.”

Brant thought of his mud-spattered vehicle. Old Bessie hadn’t been near a hose and a bucket for at least a month. “Have you seen my truck?”

“Not up close, but it doesn’t matter. Judging from your recent performance, you’ll be washing my truck.”

“And if it’s a tie,” Lexi said, “you can both wash my truck.”

“My van could use a wash,” Aria said as she stirred the mushrooms. “I planned on driving out here in the morning, anyway, so I can see Linus.”

Brant perked up at that announcement. Logically she should have tomorrow morning free and he’d planned to ask her if she’d come to the ranch. Instead she’d volunteered to come back, so she was making the foal a priority. Good news for Linus.

“That works,” Lexi said. “I’ll share.”

“I like this bet now.” Rosie sipped her champagne. “Puts a different spin on things. Too bad Herb just washed our truck or I’d get in on it.”

Herb leaned forward. “I won’t tell you not to have this contest, but that’s a full box. I’d advise you to set a limit on the number of matches per contestant. You can’t be lighting matches while we eat.”

“Might be sort of festive,” Brant said. “Take a bite, light a match. Take a bite, light a match.”

“Might be sort of stupid.” Cade gazed across the table at him. “What do you think? Thirty?”

“Thirty it is.” Brant dug a quarter out of his jeans pocket and flipped it in the air. “Call it.”

“Heads.”

“And it’s tails, my friend. Which is a sign that my luck has turned.” Brant counted out thirty matches and leaned back in his chair. “Light ’er up, loser.”

“Wait.” Aria hurried over to the table. “I want to see this Battle of the Sacred Flame.”

“Then allow me to be your champion.” Brant stood and pulled out her chair.

“Hang on.” Cade paused, a match in his hand. “She only said she wanted to watch. She didn’t say anything about making you her champion.”

Brant shrugged. “Seems only right. You have a fair maiden rooting for you, so I should be able to—”

“I’m actually rooting for a tie,” Lexi said. “I want my truck washed.”

“That’s my stake in this, too.” Aria took her seat.

Oh, really? Brant reevaluated the situation. A woman who didn’t want to have anything to do with a man wouldn’t jump into a contest that might cause that man to wash her vehicle. Would she?

“Right on, girlfriend.” Lexi exchanged a high-five with her.

Brant decided to go with it. “Looks like we’re on our own, bro. No fair maidens cheering us on like in the good old days.”

“Just as well. This won’t take long.” Cade leaned forward and locked his gaze with Brant’s as he flicked the match with this thumbnail. It ignited. “And that’s how it’s done.” He blew it out and tossed it on the plate he’d been using for cheese. “You’re up.”

Brant didn’t care if he won or not. He never had cared. But early on he’d figured out that winning mattered to most guys, especially when it came to things like championship basketball games. So he’d pretended to be competitive as hell. Besides, Aria was sitting at the table, and while he didn’t personally mind if he lost, winning might be better with her watching.

So he concentrated more than he would have normally and lit match after match. Cade kept pace with him and eventually they each had only one left. Brant held his up. “Let’s go for the big finish. On the count of three, we’ll both light our match...or not.”

“Just so you both end up with the same result,” Lexi said.

“My thoughts exactly.” Aria finished off her champagne. “Matilda is filthy.”

Brant glanced away from the match in his hand. “You named your van?”

“Yep. I always name my ride.”

“Me, too.” He liked knowing they had that in common. Somehow there had been a subtle shift and Aria was no longer quite so resistant to...what? He wasn’t sure, but the situation was more promising than it had been.

“Are you counting or conversing?” Cade waved his match in the air.

“Counting.” Brant dragged out the process because at this stage of the game dignity was gone, anyway. On three he scratched the head of the match with his thumbnail. Nothing. He looked over at Cade.

His brother held an unlit match and had a goofy smile on his face. He tossed his match on the table. “Looks as if we’ll be washing vehicles for the ladies.” He didn’t seem particularly upset about it, either. Brant had the distinct impression Cade hadn’t tried to light his match.

“Excellent!” Aria clapped her hands together. “How early do you want me here?”

“Early.” He couldn’t remember when he’d anticipated anything more. Between washing Aria’s van and working with her foal, he’d spend the bulk of his morning with her. He wondered if Cade had figured that out and had decided to play Cupid.

“Everybody be sure to forward your pictures to my phone,” Aria said. “I’m going to show them to Josh so I can convince him to come with me.”

“Yeah, I hope he does,” Brant said immediately. He’d forgotten about her brother, and he couldn’t let himself do that.

Linus was supposed to be Josh’s colt and if a wheelchair would be part of the mix, that should be introduced early. Yeah, the prospect of seeing her tomorrow had lost a little of its shine because Josh might be there. So what? He’d comfort himself by picturing how happy she’d be if Josh fell in love with the foal the way she had.

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