And there were dangers there, too.

‘Of course we’ll fit,’ Erin said soundly. ‘We just have to persuade Cecil to move to the back of his stall.’

Hmm. Easier said than done.

The stalls weren’t huge, but they were all the space allocated to them which was why at most, one or two people were bedding down beside each animal. If Cecil lay width-ways at the back of the stall the thing was possible, but if he’d done that his rear would be against one wooden division and his nose would be pressed against the other. Cecil was nothing if not large!

So Cecil, being the sensible animal he was, was lying full length on the hay, his nose poking out onto the walkway so he could gaze his fill at the dancers. He was one sleepy bovine, and he looked as if his intentions to shift were at about nil.

‘I suppose if we all shoved,’ Erin said doubtfully and Matt grimaced.

‘Yep. You and a two-ton crane might do it.’

Which left two strips of hay three feet wide on either side of Cecil, stretching back the eight feet or so to the rear of the stall.

‘We can take a twin each and sleep on either side,’ Matt said slowly. But it wasn’t the arrangement his gut wanted-and he might have known it didn’t suit the twins either.

‘We want to sleep together.’ Of course.

‘You will be sleeping together,’ Matt told them without much hope of being heard. ‘Except instead of a pillow between you there’ll be Cecil.’

‘We can’t share Tigger. And Cecil’s as big as a mountain.’ Henry put a finger on his nose. ‘See? He’s up to here.’

Erin choked, and Matt frowned her down. Didn’t the woman realise there was no alternative?

Apparently she didn’t.

‘Of course you must sleep together,’ she told them. ‘You can’t cut Tigger in half. So, into the bathroom, into your pyjamas and then into these wonderful sleeping bags. Now!’ It was her command voice and the boys responded accordingly.

‘Okay.’ They hesitated just long enough for William to ask; ‘But where will you sleep?’

‘Matt and I will top and tail on the other side, of course,’ she said-as if the matter had never been in doubt.

‘Top and tail?’ Matt was frowning and she grinned.

‘Easy to see you haven’t slept in a family with eight children,’ she told him. ‘You fit two in a bed this way, and it minimises fights. It doesn’t stop them entirely-’ another grin ‘-but I’m sure we can fight quietly. You sleep with your head near Cecil’s head and I sleep with my head near Cecil’s butt. We’ll be cosy as two bugs in a rug. The only thing is…’ She looked down at her toes and grimaced.

‘Yes?’ he said resignedly. This woman was nuts. Nice, but definitely nuts!

‘After all that dancing and carting cattle around all day, maybe you’d better not take your boots off, Mr McKay. If there’s one thing I can’t bear sleeping with, it’s a man with stinking socks!’

Matt’s socks weren’t the problem.

There wasn’t room for Matt’s camp bed or Erin’s blowup mattress-not both-but the hay was thick and fresh. Matt hauled his sleeping bag up to his chin, tossed his pillow beside Cecil’s head and lay down. Erin did the same, lying in reverse, but nobly Matt had left her the side against the wood partition.

On the other side of Cecil, the twins snuggled in with plenty of room. Their noses barely reached Cecil’s neck, and their toes didn’t reach his rear end. Once assured Erin and Matt were settled for the night right on the other side of Cecil, they closed their eyes on their shared pillow, snuggled Tigger and were out for the count. Two exhausted but perfectly content children.

As Erin was content. Matt’s legs were distracting, and she was absurdly aware of the presence of his body so close to her, but this was a way of sleeping she’d been brought up with. She could cope.

‘Erin?’ It was a hoarse whisper and Matt’s toes nudged her shoulder to gain her attention. He had it!

‘Yep?’ She had to whisper back. The entire pavilion was settled to sleep now, and the lights had been turned low. Cattle and cattle carers alike were purposefully sleeping.

Not Matt. ‘Erin, Cecil’s chewing.’

She choked on a bubble of laughter. ‘He’s what?’

‘He’s chewing.’

She thought about that, and nodded into the dimness. ‘I wouldn’t worry. Cattle do.’

‘Not right in my ear, they don’t.’

‘Take away his feed, then.’ Honestly!

‘He’s not chewing his feed,’ Matt told her, and there was a trace of desperation in his whisper. ‘At a guess, he’s chewing yesterday’s feed, or even…’ His toes nudged her shoulder again as if to emphasise the awfulness of it. ‘By the smell of it, even the day before’s!’

‘Are you saying,’ Erin asked, trying not to laugh out loud, ‘that your champion bull has halitosis?’

‘If halitosis means breath that stinks like rancid garlic, then yes,’ Matt told her, forgetting to whisper and being shushed from about six different stalls for his pains. ‘That’s exactly what I’m saying. And he keeps trying to lick my face.’

‘He loves you.’

‘Oh, right.’

‘You want to swap sides so I’m against Cecil?’

‘All that means is that he’ll lean over your feet to lick my face.’

‘So…’

‘So I’m shifting!’ Matt was nothing if not a man of decision, and some decisions were easy. Cecil or Erin? Erin won every time. He rose, sleeping bag and all, hopped until his feet were with Erin’s and then flopped down again onto the straw.

Which meant that now his face was level with Cecil’s tail. And Erin’s nose.

There was no room for two pillows. They had to share.

Uh, oh… Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea after all.

The intimacy which had been building during the night had dispersed a little while putting the twins to bed and settling themselves. Now however it slammed back like a lightning bolt. Unconsciously Erin found herself hauling her sleeping bag zipper higher, right to her chin. As if that could protect her from what she was feeling…

‘Hey, I’m not into seduction mode here,’ Matt told her, seeing her movement and trying to make light of it. ‘It’s just if I have a choice of being kissed by you or by Cecil…’

Being kissed?

He’d meant to say licked!

No. That wasn’t right either. Hell, his whole body was going rigid with the strain of having her so close.

‘You prefer me to Cecil?’ Like Matt, Erin was trying desperately to keep things light. She chuckled and rolled over to face him-which was another mistake as she hadn’t realised how close he was. His nose was inches from hers. Major mistake!

‘You…’ Her voice cracked and it was only after a couple of desperate swallows that she made it work again. ‘You mean it? Matt, it’s the very sweetest thing to say, but I’m very sure you don’t mean it. One of the guys I was dancing with tonight told me what Cecil is worth. That’d make ten of me and then some.’

Maybe.

‘But only one of Charlotte,’ she teased gently. ‘She’s a lady who knows her worth.’

‘She is…special,’ Matt said grudgingly and tried like crazy to conjure up Charlotte’s image. The image refused to be conjured. All he could see was a smattering of freckles, one pert nose and gorgeous, laughing eyes. And lips that were so soft…

Hell!

‘She’s a lucky lady, too,’ Erin whispered warmly into the dark, seemingly unaware of the sensations he was feeling. ‘To be marrying you. You’re one fantastic guy, Matt McKay. To have given the twins today… It was just great.’

‘And it’ll stay great as long as Cecil doesn’t roll over and squash the pair of them.’

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