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Max lay dead, hardly flicking an eye when Laura knelt at his head. "Poor thing, poor thing! Is it his leg? Who's your vet?"

At the sight of the horse lying with his big head nestled in the lap of Laura's pretty blue skirt, Michael tucked his tongue in his cheek. "Looks like it's curtains for old Max."

"Don't say that," Laura snapped back. "He might have just bruised something." But what if he hadn't? She pushed back the hair that curled flirtatiously at her jaw. "Girls, go back to the house now."

"But, Mama—"

"Don't argue." She couldn't bear the idea of either of them witnessing what might have to be done.

"Laura," Michael began.

"Why are you just standing there?" Worry and temper warred in her eyes. "Why aren't you doing something? The poor thing is suffering, and you're just standing there. Don't you care about your own horse?"

"Yes, ma'am, I do. Max, cut."

On cue, and to Laura's astonishment, the big horse rolled again, then got to his feet.

"It was a trick, Mama." Kayla laughed gaily at the shared joke while Michael pulled Laura up. "Max does tricks. He was playing dead. Like a dog does. Isn't he wonderful? Isn't he smart?"

"Yes." Under a ragged cloak of dignity, Laura brushed off her skirt. "He's certainly talented."

"Sorry." A wise man knew when to smother a grin. Michael rarely chose to be wise. "I'd have warned you if I'd seen you coming. Then you were off and running." He scratched his cheek. "Seemed a lot more worried about my horse than about me. I could have broken my neck."

"The horse was down," Laura said primly. "You weren't." But everything faded into admiration as Max bent his head to her. "Oh, he is beautiful. Aren't you gorgeous? Aren't you clever?"

"Max has been in tots of movies." Ali moved closer. "So has Mr. Fury."

"Oh?"

"Stunts," Michael explained. He took a carrot out of his pouch, handed it to Laura. "Give him that, he's your slave for life."

"Who could resist?" As she offered the treat, she spoke slowly. "Didn't I tell you girls not to pester Mr. Fury?"

"Yes, but he said we weren't." Kayla smiled hopefully up at Michael. Standing on the rail of the fence, she lifted her arms, confident.

"Because you weren't." He hauled her up, fit her so naturally on his hip that Laura frowned. "I like the company," he said to Laura. "So do the horses. They get tired of looking at me all day. The kids are welcome to come by anytime. If they're in my way, I'll tell them."

To Kayla's delight, and Laura's momentary horror, he plunked Kayla onto Max's wide back.

"It's high. Look how high up I am."

"I'm trying not to," Laura said, her hand automatically going to the bridle. "He's a stunt horse, not a saddle pony."

"Gentle as a lamb," Michael assured her, then lifted Ali over the fence and put her behind her sister. "He'll carry the three of you if you want. He's also strong as a bull."

"No, thank you." Her heart settled as she looked into Max's eyes. They were indeed gentle. "I'm not exactly dressed for it."

"So I noticed. You look good, Ms. Templeton. And you looked damned good climbing over the fence."

She looked back, into Michael's eyes. Gentle? No, indeed, she thought. But just as compelling. "I imagine I made quite a picture."

"You don't know the half of it, sugar."

She stepped back. "Okay, girls, party's over. You need to wash up for dinner."

Ali started to complain, stopped herself. She didn't want to risk being told she couldn't come back. "Can Mr. Fury come to dinner?"

"Oh." Discomfort and manners. Manners always won. "Of course Michael, you're welcome to come."

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