Page 99 of Love’s Silver Bullet

“Well …”—Finn slapped two palms on his desk—“I think that about covers all you need to know for now, so unless you have any further questions, I’ll let you get back to the ranch for a far, far more difficult job.” He winked. “Giving Blaze your notice.”

CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE

“Wheeeeeeee!!” Sweet Wendell Paxton squealed with delight as Gray swept him up in the air horizontally, bracing the little guy’s chest and belly while the boy spread his arms like a bird. Autumn leaves of gold and scarlet floated down from several oak and maple trees overhead while Wendell floated in the air, a contest as to who was laughing louder—Wendell or Grayson Carmody.

Grinning in front of Professor McCall’s phaeton, Sheridan stood side by side with her teacher while Gray delivered his promised reward if Wendell passed his riding test on his final lesson of the year. Five other children literally jumped up and down inside the teacher’s vehicle, cheering the little boy on while everyone’s laughter rose in the air along with Wendell.

Shaking her head as Gray dipped him up and down in waves while they both whirled ’round and ’round, Sheridan grinned, not sure who was more the little boy—Wendell or Gray.

“All right, Mr. Donovan,” Professor McCall said with a chuckle, “I think Mr. Wendell is sufficiently dizzy, and if he’s not, Miss Donovan and I certainly are.”

With a final dip and a noisy “whooshing” sound, Gray landed Wendell on the ground in front of the phaeton. The children’s giggles merged with Sheridan’s and the professor’s when the poor little guy stumbled around like a drunken cowboy at the Silver Pistol Saloon, with Gray not far behind.

“Gee whiz, thanks, Mr. Carmody—that was fun!”

“It was, wasn’t it?” Gray said with a grin, tousling the little boy’s red hair till it stood straight up on end. Sheridan bit back a smile. Not unlike Gray’s at the moment, after an afternoon of working with orphans, spending more time giving them horsey rides at a gallop than teaching them to ride.

“Well, thank you, Miss Donovan and Mr. Carmody, once again for an excellent lesson,” the professor said as Gray hoisted Wendell up into the phaeton with the other children, “and please tell Miss Carmody that we dearly missed her and hope she gets well soon.”

“We will, Professor McCall.” Sheridan reached up to give Wendell a quick hug goodbye, the little guy squeezing her so tightly, she almost hated to let him go.

“I won’t see you again till after the holidays, young man,” Sheridan whispered in his ear, so you have a wonderful Thanksgiving and Christmas for me, all right?”

“I love you, Miss Donovan,” Wendell whispered back, and it was all Sheridan could do not to melt into a weepy puddle.

“Grayson,” Professor McCall said with a stern heft of her chin despite a trace of a twinkle in her eyes. “I insist you take Miss Donovan inside for a cup of Cecilia’s famous hot cocoa before you take her home, is that clear, young man?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Gray stood to attention in front of his distant cousin, his eyes sparkling as much as the teacher’s.

“Then I will see you both next Saturday for our usual lessons and you, Miss Donovan, in class on Monday. Good day to you both.”

Sheridan waved, then blew kisses to the children. “Goodbye, Profes—OHHH!!” The breath suddenly whooshed from her lungs when Gray swooped her up like he had Wendell, causing giggles of shock to bubble up while she extended her arms to fly.

The heat of exhilaration pulsed in her cheeks, both from the brisk October air and the clasp of Gray’s hands beneath her lower rib cage and stomach. She could hear the children’s laughter and clapping before the phaeton disappeared around the corner, and when Gray finally stopped, she was completely out of breath.

“Grayson Horatio!” she shrieked when he set her down, his hands welded to her waist to steady her while their bodies met, nearly flush. “You are incorrigible, mister!”

“But exciting, Miss Donovan, yes?” He made no effort to release his hold as he grinned down at her, so close, it put a crick in her neck just to look up.

“For Wendell, yes, Mr. Carmody,” she responded with a dry smile, pulse clipping double time at his close proximity. Her palms pressed flat against his rock-hard chest to push him away.

Gray and Grace were affectionate people, both with each other and their grandmother, and with Sheridan, so she was used to his hugs and casual kisses to her head or cheek. When Grace was around.

But she’d never been alone-alone with just Gray before, and his nearness suddenly left her more than a little unsettled. “But for a grown woman flapping in the air like a duck?” She gave him a firm shove, dislodging his hold from her waist with a giant step back, hands plunked to her hips. “I think it qualifies as manhandling, sir.”

“Well, I am a man, Miss Donovan,” he said with a wink as he offered his arm to escort her inside the white estate house blanketed in ivy, where Professor McCall lived, “and heaven knows I love to handle women, so your point is well taken.”

Lips pursed to restrain a smile, Sheridan wagged a finger in his handsome face. “Behave, Grayson Carmody, or I shall report you to your sister.”

Laughing, he gave her finger a gentle tug before hooking a loose arm over her shoulder to usher her to the elegant country house surrounded by colorful oaks. “Let’s go torment Cecilia till she gives us hot cocoa.”

“Ha!” Sheridan said as they entered the paned, white wooden door beneath the pillared portico. Reminiscent of an elegant farm home, the estate house boasted blue shutters adorning two stories of windows and wings on both sides. “Torment for me, you mean, watching you fawn and flirt all over that poor girl.” She unbuttoned her coat as she sniffed the air, the mouthwatering smell of fresh-baked cookies rumbling her stomach.

“Why? Jealous?” Gray slipped her coat off her shoulders before she could do it herself, studying her with a mischievous smile while he hung it up.

“Uh, I think ‘nauseated’ might be a better word.” She turned to offer a smirk while he hooked his own coat onto the coat rack by the door, her arms folded in schoolmarm mode. “Tell me, Gray, do you ever get tired of flirting with females?”

“Well, I could …” he said with a teasing lift of brows that belied the seriousness in those gray eyes, “if the right female ever looked my way.” Giving her shoulders a light squeeze, he prodded Sheridan into the parlour with a hand to the small of her back. “Now you go settle into the parlour, Miss Donovan, while I fetch our hot cocoa and cookies.”