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Lainie stood and took a couple steps. She’d
worn heels before, sure, but nothing like these. It felt like the outside of
the heel wanted to slip sideways and under, and as she compensated for that,
her balance teetered the other way.
    Jackie Lyn smothered a laugh with her hand. “You’ve
never worn boots before.”
    “Never liked them. Still don’t.”
    “You’ll get used to them.” Jackie looked at the
clerk. “Good fit?”
    “Yep.” He nodded his head once, still seated on the
short stool and looking bored.
    The longer Lainie teetered around on the heels, the
more awkward she felt. “I don’t know about this.” She was a secretary, for
Pete’s sake, not a cowhand.
    “Suit yourself,” Jackie Lyn said. “They’re good
boots for a good price.”
    “No.” Decisively Lainie shook her head. She sat down
and stuck her foot out for the clerk to remove the first boot, and braced
herself to avoid being yanked off the chair.
    The next morning she was on her second cup of coffee
when Reed appeared for breakfast. She’d waved at him yesterday, but that was
it. She’d eaten lunch in town and had then carried a sandwich to her cottage
for her evening meal. But it’d been worth it. She’d gotten her shopping done
and her house in order.
    With a plate heaped with thick-sliced bacon,
scrambled eggs, grits and four biscuits, he settled in the chair opposite her.
“Saw you with your hat on yesterday. Looked good on you.” He paused and
grinned. “And that shirt you were wearin’ had enough color in it that it stood
out like a neon sign. But where are your boots?”
    “Didn’t get them.”
    Bottles of hot sauce, green and red, were scattered
along the length of the rectangular table. She watched him pour the mixture in
the red bottle over his eggs.
    “You need them,” he said. “Even around the house.”
    “I tried a pair on but didn’t like them. I’ll be
fine without them.”
    “No.”
    She frowned, wondering what he was refusing. He
continued eating, attention divided between her and his plate. “I beg your
pardon?” she asked.
    He finished chewing, swallowed. “I said no. You
won’t be fine with something else. Has to be boots.” He washed the food down
with coffee.
    He appeared perfectly serious. He really thought he
could tell her what she could and couldn’t do, and what she could and couldn’t
wear. She felt like saying oh, yeah ?
    Instead she said, very mildly, “Really?”
    “Uh-huh.”
    Well, now. What was the best way to handle this guy
and his attitude problem? For her sake, she needed to maintain her cool. His
sake she wasn’t much concerned with.
    She settled back in the chair. “You’ve got a
good-sized bossy streak in you,” she said, pleased with her conversational
tone.
    “Not bossy, just sensible. You don’t seem to
understand what I told you. Snakes are a hazard and you need boots. It’s that
simple.”
    “You don’t seem to understand what I told you. I
don’t like them, don’t want them and won’t wear them. It’s that simple.”
    He gave her the kind of look a patient school
principal might bestow upon a troublesome child. “Then you’re not planning on
riding horseback, I take it.”
    “You take it incorrectly. I’ve ridden before, in
sneakers, and had no problem.”
    “You won’t do that here. No boots, no horse. You can
drive your own car to town and back but nowhere else. There will be no
exploring by car, on foot or on horseback, until you’ve got decent protection.
In the form of boots.”
    Lainie straightened her spine. “Cowboy,” she said
carefully, “you’re pushing it.”
    “Yep.” He didn’t seem concerned about it. He lifted
his mug of coffee and drained it, put it down. “You can go to Miles if you
want, but it won’t get you anywhere.” Pushing his chair back with an unhurried
motion, he got to his feet and carried away his dishes.
    Lainie watched his back until he was out of sight
and then she stared at the chair he’d