Castillo's Fiery Texas Rose - By Tessa Berkley Page 0,1

made even crisper by the bite of her Irish brogue. She would not tolerate being ogled by any driver, no matter how important he was to turning a profit.

“I came to see if you needed anything,” he replied, lifting his hand.

Her eyes left his face to follow his movement as he placed the hand on the harness two inches away from her left shoulder. Mary Rose found it hard to breathe. His foot moved forward, pressing his body closer. The odor of stale sweat filled the air, and her stomach churned. Trapped by his towering figure, she attempted to get away with a turn of her back, in hopes he’d understand her dismissal.

“I’m fine,” she said. Maybe if she didn’t have to look at him it would ease her nervousness. She tried to focus on the harness again. Across the street, she heard two men snicker. Mary Rose looked into the plate-glass windows of the store but couldn’t see her brother.

“A little lady like you shouldn’t have to check a harness.”

Moe’s voice sounded closer. She glanced at the shaft loop that held the trace. Gravel crunched beneath his hobnailed boots, and she shivered as his hot breath brushed against the side of her neck.

“You smell good.”

Panic seized her when a second arm dropped to her right. The urge to flee overwhelmed her and, with sudden agility, she ducked down, slid beneath, and backed two steps away.

“Mr. Horne, I believe you’ve overstepped your boundaries.”

He smiled and rubbed a hand across his grimy clothing. “You’re a nice lady.”

“Mr. Horne.” She dampened her lips and placed a hand upon the lines of the first horse. “You need to check your rig. Mr. Thornton will be along momentarily, and we’ll be ready to move out.”

“You wanta ride with me?” he asked.

“No, Mr. Horne. I don’t want to ride with you,” she told him curtly. “In fact, I think I’ve had just about enough of this conversation.” Turning, Mary Rose crossed in front of the team. She heard his boots scratch against the sand as he plodded after her. Two more steps and she’d be on the boardwalk near the door to the store. Daniel would see her. Too late! A hand grabbed her elbow and, despite herself, Mary Rose screamed.

“I want you to ride with me,” Moe said.

Her eyes widened. Mary Rose drew back in fear, pulling her arm up, hoping to break his grasp. The laughter erupted louder than before from the gallery across the way. She glanced over to see a small crowd had gathered. Heat roared into her cheeks. She didn’t fancy being the center of attention. Despite her attempts to get free, she could not peel his vise-like grip from her arm.

Would no one step in to help her? Her heart rose in her throat. A deep baritone voice silenced the sounds around them.

“Let the lady go.”

Mary Rose looked past Moe’s twisted face as the crowd parted to reveal a man, tall and broad-shouldered, in the center of the street. A blue cotton shirt clung to the well-made shoulders. His wide chest narrowed to his hips, where the double holster was slung low and tied to muscular thighs by thin leather rawhide strips. Her mouth went dry.

“The lady said she didn’t want to ride. Let her go,” he repeated.

Moe glanced at the intruder and back at her. The corners of his mouth turned down and his eyes grew sullen. “She wants to ride. She’s just playin’ hard to get.”

Mary Rose bit her lip as the words chilled her blood. Alarmed, she opened her mouth to protest, then stopped. Beneath the gray shadows of the stranger’s hat brim she caught the flash of eyes so blue they stole her breath away. Mesmerized, she saw his quick glance of reassurance as he continued to talk.

“Who told you that?” the man asked. He turned and glanced over his shoulder, and her gaze followed his look. “You mean those three fellows over there?”

Moe redirected his attention across the way to the three men at the front of the crowd. The men gazed at their feet and fell silent.

“Hm, I thought so,” the cowboy murmured. “Those three men take delight in getting others in trouble.”

Moe’s brow furrowed. “They said they were my friends.” His grip on her arm relaxed, and Mary Rose’s tension ebbed. The rate of her heart steadied, and she waited for Moe to move away.

“You bought the drinks, so of course you became their friend,” Trace continued moving a step closer. “What