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Helen was quick to explain, “Mr. Frohme told us that he thought you’d ridden this way.”
Laura reacted to neither comment as she set her hands on her hips and surveyed Boone with amusement. “That English saddle just isn’t your style at all, Boone. I’ve never seen anyone look more out of place on it than you do. You really should stick with western tack.”
“If they had any, I wouldn’t be riding this flat thing.” He kicked free of the iron stirrups and jumped to the ground, his attention still divided between the two. “Where have you been?”
“Galloping madly across fields, jumping walls and hedgerows,” she replied, seemingly oblivious to his probing question. “It’s lucky you found us when you did. We were just getting ready to mount up and ride on after stopping to give the horses a drink. Now we can all ride together. Come on. You can give me a leg up.”
Sebastian had a clear view of the blatantly provocative look she tossed at Boone before turning away. It cut through him like a knife. If he hadn’t just held her in his arms, he would have called her a heartless bitch. He suspected the truth was simply that she was a damned good actress who had total control of her emotions. And judging from the combative light in Boone’s eyes when he rode up, Sebastian suspected that if Laura had adopted any other air than one of carefree unconcern, he and Boone would be trading punches about now. Instead, Boone walked right past him, following Laura to the horses.
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When he started to turn to retrieve his own horse, Helen caught his eye and signaled him to check his cheek. Reaching up, he rubbed his fingers over the area. They came away with a telltale smudge of coral-red lipstick on them. He fired a wary glance at Boone, wondering how the smear had escaped his notice.
Laura collected the gray’s reins, conscious of Boone directly behind her. She turned the horse around, confident that Boone would catch hold of the hunter’s bridle. When he did, she automatically checked to make sure the cinch hadn’t loosened.
“I didn’t expect you to go riding alone with him.” Boone’s voice was low and heavy with disapproval.
“Why ever not?” Laura countered in a perfectly reasonable tone, then cast a knowing glance his way. “And if you’re wondering whether Tara passed on your daddy’s message, she did.”
“Then why does he have lipstick on his cheek?” Boone challenged.
“I had to tell him good-bye, didn’t I?” She gave him a twinkling look of mock innocence. “After all, I couldn’t blame him for trying. That would be childish. Don’t you agree?”
“I don’t have your tolerance for fortune hunters.” And Boone didn’t pretend otherwise.
“I wouldn’t worry about it if I were you. I’m not.” She stepped into his cupped hand and he boosted her into the saddle.
Privately Laura couldn’t have been happier that Boone had shown up when he did. It had spared her further needless conversation with Sebastian. Her mind was made up. Nothing he might have said would have changed it.
On the ride back to Crawford Hall, Laura deliberately paired up with Boone. With her usual skill she kept the conversation focused on unimportant topics. That wasn’t difficult, considering none of the others seemed inclined to talk. By the time the manor house loomed before them, she was beginning to feel the strain of maintaining the facade that she was untouched by all that had happened. Laura welcomed the chance to escape to the privacy of her room even for a few minutes.
But it wasn’t to be.
She had barely set foot inside the front door when Tara’s voice summoned her from a nearby room. “Laura, is that you? Your brother’s on the phone. He wants to talk to you.”
“Coming,” Laura answered, and threw a questioning glance at Sebastian.
“I think they’re in the front parlor.” He pointed her toward it.
When she entered the formal parlor, Tara rose from a velvet-covered sofa, a cell phone to her ear. “Here she is now, Trey,” she said into the mouthpiece, then passed the phone to Laura.
She lifted it to her ear and said, “Hi. What’s up?”
“Don’t you ever carry your cell phone with you?”
Laura smiled at the comforting sound of her twin brother’s voice, conscious of her tension unraveling.
“Only when I choose to,” she admitted.
“That’s what I thought,” Trey replied with an undertone of censure.
“So what’s new at the ranch?” Laura asked and followed it up with a quick, “How’s Quint getting along?”
“That’s why I’m calling,” Trey replied. “Aunt Cat is flying him home on Tuesday. We’re going to have a big welcome-home bash for him on Wednesday. ’Course it won’t be quite complete without you here.”
“Wednesday, you say.” Strange as it sounded, even to herself, Laura suddenly had no great desire to continue this European tour. “Hold on a second.” She lightly cupped a hand over the mouthpiece and looked at Tara. “Quint’s coming home. They’re throwing a big party for him on Wednesday. You wouldn’t mind if we cut our trip short and flew back for it, would you?”
The request took Tara by surprise. “If that’s what you want—” she began.
