Nothing Sweeter (Sweet on a Cowboy) Read Online Free PDF Page B

brushing and warming as she leaned in to penetrate the heavy winter coat. The broomtail grunted in pleasure. She inhaled the mixture of frigid air and warm horse. A bubble of happiness built in her chest, rising to explode in her brain.
    She worked her way through the string, and the ponies crowded her, curious, each wanting to be next. She spoke to them in a low voice of silly endearments, enjoying both the solitude and the camaraderie.
    Time passed quickly in that peaceful place. Giving the last pony a final swipe, she let the brush fall to her side and massaged her biceps. It was going to take a few daysto build up the grooming muscle. She glanced up to the welcome light of the dining hall, shining warm and yellow on the brightening yard. The aroma of fresh-brewed coffee drifted to her.
    After dropping the brush box in the barn, she strode to the weathered building and shivered, imagining warmth enveloping her. Stepping onto the porch, angry male voices brought her up short. She hesitated, reluctant to have anything shatter the fragile calm of her morning. All she wanted was coffee.
    “I heard in town yesterday that Trey Colburn married Jo Clark last fall.” The morning paper rustled as Wyatt turned the page. They’d been the first to arrive at the mess hall. “Didn’t you tell me on the phone once that you and she were dating?”
    Max shot a look over the edge of his coffee cup. “We were.”
    “So, what happened?” Wyatt scanned the page, then turned it.
    Something in Wyatt’s uninformed nonchalance loosened the tight wad of words in Max’s throat. He barked them out. “Goddamn Colburn came back to town and sidled up to Jo, with his baby face, smooth ways, and family money.” He lifted his cup, but the slug of coffee he took had turned bitter. He forced himself to swallow it.
    “I’m sorry, Max.” Wyatt looked up. “I’m surprised. I remember Jo being such a sweet girl.”
    “She is. It wasn’t her fault. It’s that weasel Colburn.” He said the name like it was Osama bin Laden. He scanned the walls, the ceiling, looked out the window, but the silence pulled him back to his brother’s puppy-dog eyes. “Okay,so maybe some of it was me.” He clunked the cup on the table. Coffee sloshed out. “Shit, you know me, Wyatt. I don’t go around calf-eyed, spouting poetry at a woman.”
    Wyatt studied the paper, but his eyes didn’t move across the page. “No, no one could accuse you of that.”
    So I have more in common with Dad than just his looks. But why do people have to run around talking, spewing their feelings all the time?
And if he were the type who did, would Jo be asleep in his bed at the main house right now, instead of in another man’s, a few short miles down the road? “I’d planned to marry that girl,” he almost whispered. The sadness he heard in those words burned almost as much as Wyatt’s pitying look.
    “If you never told her how you felt, how could she have known that?”
    “I don’t want to talk about it, Wyatt.” He needed to change the subject and fast. Living in the past never did anyone any good.
    Max took a sip from his mug, trying to find the right words. “Wyatt, I know the ranch is half yours. I’m good with that. But let’s be realistic. At some point, you’re going to go back to your boyfriend and your fairy tale life, and I’ll be the one left to deal with whatever we decide.”
    Wyatt leaned in, his face red. “Damn it, Max, you’re just like Dad.”
    “That’s bullshit.” He snapped out. “If I were just like the old man, you wouldn’t have come home. And you damn well know it.” He forced a deep breath and got control of himself. “Wyatt, this isn’t about Dad. It’s not even about you. It’s about me. Humor me for a minute, will you?”
Walk gentle. Your future depends on this.
    “I’ve thought about your dude-ranch idea. Let’s ignorethe fact that the repairs would cost more than we have in the bank. The bottom line is that I can’t