The Ashtons - Cole, Abigail & Megan

mousetrap?”
    “Let me guess,” Abby laughed. “He’s going to try to make a better wine?”
    “So he says.” Mercedes smiled fondly and Abby could tell that she adored her youngest brother. “But I think it’s just an excuse to backpack through France before he settles into a position here at Louret with Eli and Russ.”
    “I’m sure that will make it easier for Russ to go to a few more rodeos,” Abby said before she could stop herself. Why did she keep mentioning him?
    “Russ seems to have made a big impression on you.” Mercedes gave her a questioning look. “You wouldn’t happen to be interested, would you?”
    “Good Lord, no!” Abby shook her head. “I don’t have time for him or any other man in my life.”
    “Really? He’s a great guy and extremely good-looking. And, just for the record, available.” From the twinkle in her eyes and the teasing tone of her voice, Abbycould tell that Mercedes wasn’t the least bit convinced of her disinterest.
    “I’ve worked too long and hard at getting my degree to become distracted now.” As they walked onto the covered lanai at the back of the estate, she added, “Besides not having the time to become involved, Russ lives a thousand miles away. I’ll be way too busy with my practice for a long-distance boyfriend.”
    “If you say so,” Mercedes said, once again treating Abby to a knowing grin.
    Realizing that she’d protested a little too much, it suddenly became clear that she wasn’t trying to convince Mercedes as much as she was trying to convince herself. “I’m pretty tired,” Abby said, suddenly needing time alone. “I think I’ll take a nap before dinner.” She hugged her new friend. “Thank you for the tour and wine tasting. I really enjoyed it.”
    “I’m glad.” Mercedes hugged her back. “I probably won’t see you at dinner this evening. I’m going out with a friend.”
    “Have a good time.”
    Turning to walk the short distance to the carriage house where she and her uncle were staying, Abby wondered what had gotten into her. Talking about Russ had been more unsettling than she could have ever imagined, and she needed time to get herself back on track.
    All of her life she’d focused on her goal of becominga large-animal vet, studied her tail off in school and made it happen. And along the way, she’d purposely avoided becoming involved with anyone. It was a distraction she didn’t need and a chance she couldn’t afford to take. Her biggest fear had been, and probably always would be, that she’d turn out to be just like her mother—a man-crazed tramp who cared very little for anyone or anything beyond her own selfish pursuits of pleasure.
    But the most disconcerting realization of all was that when she and Mercedes had talked about Russ Gannon, she couldn’t seem to keep her pulse from skipping beats or a funny, fluttery feeling from settling deep in the pit of her stomach. When she’d found herself attracted to boys in high school or college, she’d never experienced anything even remotely close to what she felt when she thought about Russ. And that bothered her. A lot.
    Sighing, she entered the carriage house and climbed the stairs. “You have serious issues, Abigail Ashton,” she muttered. “And at the moment, the biggest one is a wine-making rodeo cowboy named Russ Gannon.”
    When Russ arrived at dawn a few days later to feed the horses and muck out the stalls, he wasn’t the least bit surprised to see Abby already in the stable with her sleeves rolled up, changing Marsanne’s bandages. Three out of the last four mornings, she’d arrived before him.And whether he liked it or not, he’d started looking forward to their morning encounters.
    “You’re up even earlier than usual,” he said, strolling over to where she bent down to change the dressing on the mare’s fetlock.
    Straightening, she gave him a smile that caused his pulse to take off like a racehorse out of the starting gate. He swallowed hard. She not only had auburn hair, she had his second biggest weakness—dimples. Why hadn’t he noticed that before?
    “When I’m at home, I’m used to getting up a lot earlier than this.”
    She brushed her hands off on the seat of her jeans and he almost groaned aloud. He’d love to run his hands over her sweet little rear.
    Oblivious to his discomfort, she laughed and continued talking. “There’s only two reasons a person sleeps late when they live on a farm—they’re either too sick