McKettricks of Texas: Austin by Linda Lael Miller

intending to lift him up again, but Austin beat her to it. He paled slightly, beneath the bristle of his beard, holding Calvin in the curve of one arm.
    â€œAustin,” Paige said, reaching out to take the child from him.
    He hesitated before he let Calvin go.
    Calvin, for his part, was too busy petting Molly’s nose to care who was holding him. He hooked an arm around Paige’s neck, though, and she felt a rush of such love for her sister’s child that it made her light-headed.
    After a few more moments, she carried Calvin out of Molly’s stall and set him back on his feet. She was aware of Austin moving behind her, shutting and latching the door.
    â€œCan I sleep out here in the barn, with Austin and Shep?” Calvin asked, his upturned face earnest with hope.
    â€œNot tonight,” Paige told him gently.
    Conveniently, Shep wriggled out from under the cot, wagging his tail, and Calvin, distracted from the camping prospect, squatted to ruffle the dog’s ears.
    Looking up at Austin through her eyelashes, Paige was both gratified and shaken to find him watching her.
    His color was coming back, but she couldn’t help wondering if he’d hurt himself, lifting Calvin up to pet Molly the way he had.
    The grin came suddenly, nearly setting Paige back on her heels, dazzled.
    â€œYou know,” he drawled, leaning in close and keeping his voice low, “I’m starting to think I might need a nurse after all.”

CHAPTER FIVE
    O NCE HE WAS FAIRLY SURE Molly’s visiting hours were over for the night, Austin took a couple of muscle relaxants, throwing them back with tepid tap water from the tack room sink, shut off the barn lights and eased himself down to sit on the shaky cot he’d set up earlier. He began the tricky task of taking off his boots.
    With some sighing and some shifting around, Shep settled himself underneath the makeshift bed.
    â€œDon’t snore,” Austin said. So far, that was the only drawback to having Shep for a dog.
    Austin smiled and rubbed his chin with one hand, hoping it wouldn’t start itching before morning, when he could reasonably shave.
    Just sitting there, thinking his own thoughts and mostly at peace, the way he generally was around dogs and horses, he almost missed the movement in the doorway of the barn, would have disregarded it as an illusion if Shep hadn’t growled once and low-crawled out from under the cot to stand guard.
    â€œBest show yourself,” Austin advised the unknown visitor mildly, rising to his feet with a lot less ease than he would have liked. “It’ll save us all some grief—you, me and the dog.”
    No answer.
    He rubbed the back of his neck and waited. How longwould it be until the pills kicked in, anyhow? Austin wasn’t exactly hurting, but he was stiff as hell, and in all the wrong places, too.
    The shadow in the darkened doorway resolved itself into a small and enticing shape.
    â€œIt’s me,” Paige said. From the tone of her voice, she was a little surprised to find herself in that barn, after nightfall, with all the lights shut off. Maybe even more surprised than Austin was to see her there.
    He felt the right corner of his mouth kick up in a grin, as his heart staggered like a drunk and slammed against his rib cage before righting itself.
    A shaft of moonlight found its way in through a high window way up there in the hayloft and Paige passed through it, a goddess in blue jeans and a pullover sweater, moving slowly toward him.
    Shep had long since given up growling by then, and taken to wagging his tail instead.
    Paige bent to muss the dog’s ears, then straightened and looked up into Austin’s face. “Did you hurt yourself?”
    He couldn’t stop grinning. Good thing it was dark in that barn—mostly. There was that liquid-silver moonlight spilling in, but things were cast in angled shadows.
    â€œHurt myself? How would I have done that?”
    She