Page 30 of When a Cowboy Falls Hard
He gave her a sheepish grin. “Gets me every time.”
“I can see why. Thank you. Thank you so much.”
He shrugged. “Speckles gets all the credit. I just watched.”
“But you were here. That meant the world to me, knowing that I didn’t have to worry if something didn’t go the way it?—”
“Mommy, look.” Tex pulled on her sleeve. “Monty gots spots.”
“Oh, my gosh, you’re right!” The foal’s dark muzzle was the only solid black on his body. The rest of his coat was decorated with irregular black spots just like his mother’s. Speckles had given birth to a beautiful leopard Appy.
“He’s already trying to get up, the little bugger.” Uncle Graham chuckled as he took his phone from his back pocket. “Guess I’d better record some of this.”
Startled, Zinnia looked at the phone in her left hand. “I blew it. I promised Mari pictures of the birth and I totally forgot.” She let go of Tex and began videoing the foal’s struggle to get his spindly legs under him. “I feel terrible. Now she won’t get to see?—”
“No worries.” Monty’s soft voice tickled her sensitized nerve endings. “I got it.”
“You took pictures?”
“A video. I’ll send it to you.”
She sighed in relief. “Thanks for saving my butt. She would have forgiven me, but I probably wouldn’t have forgiven myself. I’m so glad you took it.”
“I usually do unless I’m assisting with the birth. If I’m filming, I can zoom in and check on the progress while still leaving the mare to handle things on her own.”
“Good idea.” What a dedicated professional. She admired that. She also admired his ass. What a mess she was, lusting after a man who’d admitted he wasn’t ready for the only deal she could offer.
“Come on, Monty!” Tex leaned against the stall, intent on the foal’s struggle. “You can do it! I know you can! Go, Monty, go!”
She snuck a glance to check out how the other Monty was taking this. He watched with a bemused expression as Tex continued to use his name to cheer on the foal.
She edged closer to him and lowered her voice. “You hate this, right?”
“I wouldn’t say that. But I’ve never met another person with my name. This is a small town. Whenever someone calls out Monty, I know they mean me.”
“That’ll still be true unless you’re over here.”
“Are you saying you’re not on board with Mister Monty?”
“Only when I’m talking to my son, to avoid confusion. I sure as heck won’t be addressing you that way.”
His cheek creased in a tight smile. “I appreciate that.”
“I suppose I could call you Bridger, though. How would you feel about that?”
“It wouldn’t work in a crowd. There’s a passel of us.”
“I see your point. Maybe you’ll be able to tell in context whether I mean you or the foal. Or by my tone of voice.”
He grinned. “You’ll have a special way of saying my name? That could be interesting.”
“Never mind. Bad idea.”
“What about Montgomery?”
“I thought you didn’t like it.”
“It beats hey, you.”
