Mary Jo Putney by Sometimes a Rogue

to smile. The carefully applied smudge on her cheek made her look young and mischievous, though he knew she must be twenty-five or twenty-six since she was twin to Ashton’s wife.
    He reminded himself sharply that his job was to return her safely to her home, not develop a deeper bond that would do neither of them any good. He still couldn’t believe how much he’d told her about his younger life. Maybe being in Ireland made him talkative. Or maybe it was that she listened so well. “Lead the horses to the livery stable. You can take a look at the ones that are for sale while I buy what we need.”
    She dismounted with a nod. Rob did the same and pulled a folded canvas carrier from his saddlebags before he headed into the jumble of stalls. He noted that Sarah stayed between the two horses she led so that no one would see her clearly. Smart girl.
    Smart lady.
    It didn’t take long to buy more cheese, bread, meat pies, the previous autumn’s apples, and two coarse but warm blankets. They wouldn’t have to sleep in each other’s arms again, which would be wiser if less enjoyable.
    The livery stable had the weathered name “Holmes” painted above the broad doors. Sarah had tethered their mounts adjacent to the ones for sale and was lurking unnoticed behind them. Since the market was noisy enough to cover conversation, as Rob packed his acquisitions into his saddlebags, he asked quietly, “Any of these hacks you fancy?”
    She looked up with swift surprise. “A man is asking my opinion about horses? The heavens may fall!”
    This time he did smile. “Any woman who can ride like you must know horseflesh.”
    Her face lit up with laughter, and he felt an odd lurch in the vicinity of his heart. He’d never met a woman who radiated such joy.
    She gestured to the left. “That dark bay over there would probably do, I think, but you might ask the livery owner if he has anything better inside.”
    Rob scanned the line of horses. None of them rated better than adequate. “You’re right. Let’s go inside. But keep your head down.”
    She obeyed and became a sullen boy in an oversize hat. The inside of the livery had the familiar scents of hay and horses. A large orange cat sprawled on a bench and watched them sleepily. There were a number of stalls, all of them occupied.
    A burly man ambled toward them. “I’m Holmes. If you be looking for stabling, I’m full up till the market closes. I’ll have space then.”
    “I’m looking for a good, sturdy horse with stamina,” Rob replied. “Do you have any in here for sale? My cousin’s horse outside is old and slow, and I promised him we’d look for something livelier.”
    The owner barely glanced at Sarah. “Two good horses at the end of the aisle on the left. On the right is a pony that might suit a small lad like this one.”
    “We’ll take a look then.” As Rob turned to go down the aisle of stalls, he added, “I’d like to trade in his old horse. You might take a look. She’s tethered outside.”
    The owner nodded and headed out as Rob and Sarah moved down the aisle between the stalls. When they reached the end, Rob asked, “What do you think of the chestnut?”
    “Looks like a nervous beast, but probably fast,” she said judiciously.
    Rob nodded. Her judgment matched his. “The bay is handsome, but let’s look at the pony. Holmes was right that you don’t need a large horse. A pony will add to the impression that you’re a young boy.”
    They moved across the aisle to study the pony, a relaxed chestnut with a white star on his forehead. “He reminds me of my first pony,” Sarah said warmly. “Only larger, close to the size of a horse. I wonder if he has as good a disposition.”
    She cooed to the pony, apologizing for not having a bit of carrot ready. He butted her in a friendly way, and he was sturdy and healthy looking. Rob guessed that he’d hold up well through several days of hard riding. He opened the stall and moved inside, watchful but