Hot in the Saddle (Heroes in the Saddle Book 1) Read Online Free

trying hard not to stare at the manly, sexy ass displayed in
black boxer-briefs right in front of her, then helped him slip on the soft
jersey pants. Off to the side of the bed, she spotted the bathroom door, and
walked in, turning on the light. Fancy. A big jetted tub took up one corner, a
glass shower big enough for ten spread across one wall, and the entire room was
done in soft, glowing, golden tiles.
    “I’ll take it from here.” He came in and nodded his head
toward the door. Luckily, a few of his fingertips had escaped severe burning
and blistering.
    “Okay, but shout if you need me.” She winked. “Remember, I
travel with a pit crew of mostly men, so I’ve seen it all.”
    He tried to stifle a yawn.
    “Do you want something to eat?” She checked her watch. “It’s
almost time for your next pain pill, and you should have something in your
stomach.”
    “Sure. Just a sandwich.”
    “A sandwich I can do.” Cooking wasn’t a strong point for
her. “Ask me to install a brake rotor, and I’m your girl. But to get water to
boil? Uh uh.”
    He chuckled. “I’m a man of simple tastes.”
    “Then we’ll get along just fine.” She left the room, pulling
the bathroom door behind her, but leaving it open enough that he could get his
foot in the crack to open it. At the bed, she ran her fingers over the blue
cotton quilt, then pulled down the corner of the bedding to make it easier for
him to climb in. She hoped he’d nap, and the thought of him lying in that big
bed made her want to crawl in and wait for him.
    In the kitchen, she peeked into the dozens of white Shaker
cabinets which seemed to carry everything a chef could need plus the floor
space for about fifty people to do the cooking. This house truly took her by
surprise. She’d expected a bachelor hovel, not a brand-spankin’ new,
state-of-the-art custom home.
    When she was halfway through putting together a sandwich for
him at the big black-granite countertop on the kitchen island, a car pulled up.
Three women climbed out, each carrying a box. “What is this about?” She crossed
the kitchen and opened the side door as they climbed the few steps onto the
porch and stopped, staring at her through the screen door.
    “Ms. Pennington.” The oldest, maybe in her fifties, smiled
brightly. “We heard you were here, but didn’t dare to believe it.”
    So they’d come out to Treven’s ranch to check? Unbelievable.
She put her hands on her hips and tipped her head. “Is there something I can do
for you?”
    The youngest, in her twenties and evidently pregnant,
stepped forward. “We wanted to bring a few things for Treven. He’s done so much
for everyone in town, the prayer chain is buzzing.”
    Delta felt like a total bitch.
    The young woman looked behind her as another car pulled into
the driveway. “We won’t keep you, but we have some food, and some, um, things
that might make it easier for him.” She swallowed, her cheeks turning pink.
    “Please.” Delta pushed open the screen door and gave them
her biggest smile. “Come in. Can I get you a cup of coffee?”
    “You’re so kind, but no thank you.” The women stood talking
for a few minutes, greeting the next arrival who bore her own box of food.
    The ladies set their boxes on the center island. Delta
unloaded two casseroles, three frozen crock-pot meals in giant plastic baggies,
cookies on paper plates, a whole cake, and three loaves of homemade bread. She
and Treven were set for a week.
    One woman gave her a box of adaptive items she’d brought
from the long-term care facility she worked at, and Delta tucked that box away
in a closet, for now.
    She couldn’t thank the ladies enough, and even admitted she
wasn’t enough of a cook to know what to do with everything. The women left
copious notes on reheating, and by the time they’d left—with a warning that
there would be more folks stopping by—the kitchen island was full.
    Delta leaned against the countertop, surveying the