How could Rory not believe in miracles? In less than an hour the whole disaster was not just repaired, it was practically erased. It also took less than an hour to become very evident to her that Rory Adams might not know a thing about ponies, but leadership came as naturally to him as breathing. “How about if you just sit this one out?” Rory had suggested with a meaningful look at her damaged footwear. She could have resented how he took over from her, but frankly she was sick to death of ponies, and though it was probably a crime in the career woman’s manual, she reluctantly admitted it was somewhat of a relief to have someone take over. But not out loud. Rory set up an impromptu command center, and she found, in her softened frame of mind, with him unaware of her scrutiny, it was nice to watch him. Rory Adams was a force unto himself, pure masculine energy practically sizzled in the air around him.
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