Stacey Kayne - Mustang Wild

“Don’t look like he needs much help to me.”

Tucker followed his brother’s gaze across the mesa. Garret was riding the chestnut stallion toward the cabin and holding three leads, each attached to a mare. “Well I’ll be damned.”

“Don’t I know it. But it’s your own fault. Marrying angels by accident,” Chance muttered in disgust, shaking his head. “Seems we’ve been spotted by your angelic wife,” he said, waving to Skylar as she walked toward them.

Tucker pushed away from the cabin wall and leaned close to his brother. “One more thing, Chance, before you rush off to greet her. Remember when I said it was a fool idea to send our deed off with Daines? Seems he told his daughter you and him were partners. Married or not, as I said just now, she believes half our land is hers.”

Chance’s eyes widened as Skylar approached them. His surprise confirmed it. Zach Daines had lied to his daughter.

“Chance,” Skylar said, stopping in front of them.

Chance was quick to recover. “Sky.” He extended his hand. “It’s been a long time.”

“It has,” she replied, shaking his hand, her lips twitching with the hint of a smile. “I never knew you had a twin brother.”

“I never knew Zach had a daughter.”

Her frown deepened. She gave a slight shrug. “Minor family details, I suppose.”

“Tuck mentioned you were hit by rustlers, lost your father and your stock. You have my condolences, Sky. Your father was a good man.”

The instant shadow of sadness in Skylar’s blue eyes surprised Tucker, and he realized he hadn’t offered her any such sentiment in regards to her father’s death. Another area where he hadn’t handled himself very well. Damn.

“Thank you,” she said.

Her thick tone pricked at Tucker’s skin. She cleared her throat, visibly fighting moisture from her eyes. The show of emotion didn’t last but a second.

“We need to discuss the agreement you had with my father,” she said in a firm tone.

Any sentiment she felt over her father’s death didn’t compare to her determination to claim what she believed to be hers. Since Chance was the one who had hired Daines, he’d damn well better find a way to set her straight.

“I believe Garret could use my help,” Tucker announced, and quickly started across the yard, leaving Skylar and Chance to hash things out.

A half hour later, he and Garret had the horses corralled. Chance and Skylar had gone into the cabin. Concerned, Garret headed inside, but Tucker opted to keep out of rifle range. He’d had his round with Skylar, and lost. He mounted his horse, preparing to round up his white stallion and the last of his mares when the cabin door slammed.

Tucker couldn’t hold back a burst of laughter at the sight of Chance’s rage-reddened face. He had to give Skylar credit. It took a stubborn soul to get a rise out of his twin. By the murderous look on Chance’s face, he was mighty ticked off.

“I don’t see a damn thing funny about this, Tuck!” Chance shouted as he stomped toward him. “I’ve never met a man with more determination than that woman. You do know what she’s determined to get, don’t you? Our land!”

“I know. Did you tell her about your contract with her father for the horses and employment?”

Chance stopped beside him and planted his hands on his hips. “I sure did.”

“And?”

“She demanded to see the contract.”

“Did you show it to her?”

“It’s on our ranch, in Wyoming!” he shouted, sounding frantic. “She said she’d take a look at it when we get there, but until then, she’d take her father’s word over mine. I swear, if Zach wasn’t dead, I’d kill him! I trusted that man!”

“Skylar seems to share your good faith in him.”

“And to compound our problems, you had to marry her. What the hell were you drinking? I thought Winifred had cured us both of ever seeking any prospects of marriage.”

“She did,” Tucker insisted. An instant tension seized his spine as the memory of his stepmother’s yipping voice calling their father’s name echoed in his ears, along with the unpleasant recollection of his father’s simpering replies. Sorry, Winifred. Right away, Winifred. It was enough to make a grown man sick.

“Could have fooled me,” Chance retorted.

Tucker imagined his twin felt slightly betrayed by his marital slipup. Not only had he broken their pact by getting himself hitched, he’d managed to marry a woman with a stubborn streak as wide and wild as the Rio Colorado.

“What are we supposed to do now, Tuck?”

He followed Chance toward the cabin where his horse was tethered. “She wants proof, we’ll give her proof. Once we get to Wyoming she’ll see she’s wrong and we’ll have the marriage annulled. If we gussy her up a bit she could land the first Wyoming man we meet for a husband. Problems solved.”

Chance’s scathing glare told Tucker he wasn’t the least bit convinced. “It’s a long way to Wyoming, little brother.”

Chance hadn’t calmed down one bit when Tucker finally led Rosie into the stable. Sick to death of his brother’s obsessive complaining, Tucker felt his jaw clench with tension. Straining to control his temper, he focused his attention on the sunlight streaming through wide cracks in the west side of the barn. The bars of light flickered across his Appaloosa’s spotted coat.

The old barn wasn’t much in the way of shelter, having cracks just as wide in the rotted wood overhead, but he’d paid next to nothing to occupy this abandoned farm. He’d spent a week reinforcing the fragile shell of the barn just to be sure the whole shooting match wouldn’t collapse on his horses when the wind kicked up.

“You’ve really done it this time, little brother,” Chance continued as he led his horse into a stall.

“Would you stop calling me that,” Tucker said with a scowl. He led Rosie into the neighboring stall. “You don’t know which of us was born first. It wouldn’t matter even if you did,” he said as he started to remove his saddle. “We’ve been mixed up so often, neither one of us knew what name to answer to until we were old enough to decide for ourselves.”

“It was me,” Chance said with infuriating finality. “Did you know Zach was ransacked by one of his own men?”

“Yeah. Garret mentioned that. Backshot him, too.”

“Sky seems to think Randal is still headed for Wyoming and plans to squat on our land. She says he knew we were waiting on Zach for the return of the deed and is hoping she got lost in the Arizona desert along with the document. He has big plans to keep those horses and our ranch. Maybe we ought to sell off your mustangs or set them free so we can get back to the ranch as quickly as possible. We’re short over a half-dozen men, we don’t have—”

“I’m keeping my horses,” Tucker cut in.

“—Daines to break your mustangs or the manpower to drive them.”

Tucker lifted his saddle from Rosie’s back and tossed it onto the railing before he looked back at his brother. “I’m keeping my horses. I didn’t just ride out one sunny afternoon and pick them at random, Chance.”

“They’re vicious and wild as hell!”

“You were the one who suggested we wait for Daines to gentle them!”

“That spotted mare nearly whipped you clean out of your saddle when you lassoed her,” Chance continued, obviously trying to take the focus off the fact that this whole mess was all his fault.

Despite his irritation, Tucker smiled as he began to brush his horse. “That skewbald is a spirited one, and the best of the herd. She’ll gentle.”

A short, rueful laugh broke from Chance’s chest as he tossed his saddle blanket and sheepskin over the wood railing. “By the time you gentle that mare, snow will be filling the Colorado passes. Your white stallion’s no better. In the two weeks you’ve been working with him, he’s given you more lumps and bruises than you’ve given him manners.”