McKettricks of Texas: Garrett by Linda Lael Miller Page B

Calvin,” she said. “And they’re right. He has asthma, but it’s not as if he’s fragile or anything. I don’t want him to grow up frightened of all the things that scare me. ”
    â€œWhat scares you, Julie?” Garrett asked, resting one booted foot on the opposite knee and settling back in the big armchair. He was so wholly, uncompromisingly male, so at home in his own skin, that Julie began to feel warm again.
    â€œThe uncertainty, I guess,” she answered, after giving the question some thought. “What if he gets hurt? What if he gets sick? What if—?” Julie stopped herself, shook her head. “You see what I mean.”
    Garrett nodded. “Libby looks out for Calvin when you’re not around,” he told her. “So does Tate.”
    â€œI know,” she said.
    Garrett leaned forward a little. Lamplight played in his longish dark blond hair. “Are you afraid of horses, Julie?”
    She stiffened. “Afraid?”
    â€œAfraid for yourself, I mean.”
    She shook her head. “I used to ride a lot,” she said. “When I was younger.”
    That wicked, McKettrick-patented grin flashed. “But now that you’re old and decrepit, you don’t?”
    She laughed. “It’s been a while,” she admitted, sobering.
    â€œThere’s a bright moon out,” he said. “How about a ride?”
    The prospect, out-of-the-blue, off-the-wall crazy as it was, had more appeal than Julie would have expected it to. “Calvin’s in bed,” she said. “I can’t just go off…”
    â€œEsperanza’s still up,” Garrett said easily, when Julie ran out of steam in the middle of her sentence. “I heard her TV when we came in earlier. She could sit with Calvin for a while.”
    Julie shook her head. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”
    Garrett was already on his feet, headed for the door. He seemed to have no doubt at all that the family housekeeper would agree to serve as an impromptu babysitter.
    In the doorway, he stopped and looked back at Julie. “You’ll want to switch that getup for jeans and a warm shirt, a jacket and boots,” he said.
    â€œBut I—”
    But Garrett had already left the room.
    Within twenty minutes, Esperanza had settled herself on the sitting room couch, knitting and smiling while she watched TV, the sound muted.
    Julie was wearing jeans, boots, a thick shirt and a denim jacket.
    How did this happen? she asked herself, as she followed Garrett across the kitchen, out the back door, across the broad, grassy yard toward the barn. How did I get here?
    The moon and stars were so bright that night, she could have read by them. Small print, no less.
    â€œIs this even safe?” she asked. “Going riding? What if the horses can’t see?”
    Garrett glanced back at her. “Does everything you do have to be safe?” he countered.
    â€œI’m the single mother of a very young child,” she retorted, mildly defensive. “So, yes, everything I do has to be safe. As safe as I can make it, anyway.”
    â€œI’ll put you on the tamest horse we have,” Garrett replied, waiting until she caught up, fell into step next to him. “We’ll stay on soft ground—not that Ladybug would ever throw you—and it’s like daylight out here.”
    Julie said nothing. She didn’t look at Garrett, didn’twant him to see in her face that for all her misgivings, she was excited by the adventure. Maybe even a little thrilled.
    â€œUnless, of course,” Garrett went on, stepping in front of her just before they reached the entrance to the barn, blocking her way, causing her to look up at him in surprise, “it’s not the horse you’re afraid of.”
    Julie thrust out her chin, rested her hands on her hips, elbows sticking out. “If you’re implying that I’m afraid of you, Garrett