Linda Miller - Always A Cowboy

The gate was heavy, but his older brother knew his stuff and the hinge was done in a matter of minutes. Slater leaned against the fence and crossed his arms. “So, still no missing calf?”

“Nope.” Drake had searched as far as anyone could in country this size and hadn’t found anything; that was predictable. “Not a trace.”

“Too bad—but here comes trouble of a different kind.” Slater’s grin was wide. “I think your campaign of avoidance is about to go south, brother. I have to give you credit. Up until now, you’ve been fairly successful.”

Damned if his brother wasn’t right. Drake saw the unmistakable outline of the female figure walking toward them, the sun catching the chestnut glints in her hair. Any trace of guilt was wiped clean by his irritation. He muttered, “I know you find this just hilarious, but how would you like it if some eager film student wanted to follow your every movement?”

“Hmm.” Slater nodded with exaggerated introspection. “Grace might not approve of this answer, but between you and me, if the nonexistent film student looked like Ms. Hale and I wasn’t happily married, I would have no objections at all.”

“She knows nothing about running a ranch.”

Slater burst out laughing. “So maybe you should teach her? I think that’s why she’s here.”

Starburst had the gall to lift his head and whinny in greeting as she walked up. Her cheeks held a slight flush, but otherwise the hike apparently hadn’t been that much of a challenge. Slater was watching in obvious amusement, so Drake tried to respond with equanimity. “You found us, I see.”

“And I did it without a horse,” she shot back defiantly.

He let the gibe pass. “Red will teach you to saddle one if you give him a sweet smile. Grace’s mare is gentle enough.” For a greenhorn.

“Why do I feel I’m being patronized?” So much for his attempt at subtlety. “Plus, you’ve been avoiding me.”

That was true. Slater was clearly enjoying the exchange. From the corner of his eye, Drake could see his brother grinning like a damn fool. “I’d say you are being patronized,” Slater said.

Luce seemed to be as annoyed by that as Drake was, so at least they had one thing in common.

“The wild horses are back on that ridge,” she said curtly.

Drake’s attention sharpened. “The entire herd?”

Luce nodded. “I spotted them as I walked up here. The stallion was standing at the top, watching me. A hundred feet away is my estimate.”

Drake felt a prickle of alarm. That was way too close. “A hundred feet?”

“Yes. That’s what I said.” In the next moment, she turned breezy. “I go looking for them every day, and when I’m lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time, I sit there as quietly as I can and try not to spook them. The big guy’s starting to get curious about what I might be up to.” A pause. “Should we go over and take a look if you’re done here?”

They could. Why not? Slater was still smiling to himself as he gathered up the tools, not even bothering to pretend he wasn’t taking in every word.

Drake considered Luce’s invitation. He had plenty of other things to do, but he wouldn’t mind an opportunity to recover at least some of those mares. There were other considerations, of course. Starburst was not a small horse, and he might spook the herd. Size-wise, he and the stallion could stand shoulder to shoulder; they were both males, but Star was gelded.

If the stallion got aggressive, Starburst would come out the loser.

More likely, though, the wild horse would turn his mares and head for the hills, as he’d done all the other times.

Another part of Drake’s brain was caught upstream in the conversation. A hundred feet? She had gotten awfully close to those horses, and she didn’t seem to have the first clue how dangerous they could be.

“I’ll walk up there with you,” he said reluctantly. He asked his brother, “Mind unsaddling Starburst for me and letting him graze with the cattle?”

“Nope.” There was still a wicked glint in Slate’s eyes. “Have fun hiking in those boots.”

“I live in these boots,” Drake retorted. “I’ll be fine, big brother.”

“Just sayin’.”

“Thanks for your concern,” Drake responded drily. “You can put salve on my blisters and rub my feet when we get back.”

“I think you’ll have to find someone else for that.” Slater raised his brows and turned to Luce.

“No way.” She smiled. “If anyone’s entitled to a foot massage, it’s me. I’ll have walked up there twice today.”

“I learn something new about you every day.” Drake took his rope from Starburst’s saddle, in case it came in handy. He doubted he’d get close enough to use it, but stranger things had happened.

“You don’t know as much about me as you think you do. We only met eight days ago.”

He couldn’t possibly ignore that one. “Maybe it just seems longer. Let’s go.”

He received a well-deserved lethal look for that comment. “If you’re ready, cowboy.”

She led the way, sticking to the open areas, which told him she really wasn’t a greenhorn when it came to this sort of country.

She provided him with a very nice back view. Following her was no hardship.

He knew the trail to the ridge as well as anyone and better than most. Certainly better than she did. But she walked with a sense of purpose and he climbed behind her. Slater had a point about his cowboy boots, but he could cope. Those mares had cost the ranch a small fortune.

Sure enough, Luce was right. The group of horses was at the top, quietly cropping the grass, half-hidden by a line of aspen. Ever vigilant, the stallion noticed their approach, lifted his head and allowed them to get decently close, with little more than a warning snort. They stopped obediently behind a small group of bushes, fairly well hidden, but the stallion made clear that he knew they were there.

Luce whispered, crouching next to him, “Smoke’s in a good mood today.”

She’d named the horse. That figures.

Those mares were valuable, he reminded himself again, and losing them permanently would have an effect on the bottom line. “Smoke? That’s original,” he said sarcastically.

“Hey, he’s gray and black. Pet names are not my forte.”

Drake sighed. “That’s no pet, that’s more than half a ton of testosterone and muscle. I couldn’t take him, even in a fair fight. Think teeth and hooves.”

He might have come across as peevish; he was used to riding, not walking, and he’d broken a light sweat on their impromptu stroll. His companion, on the other hand, looked as if they’d been cruising some city park, throwing bread at ducks in ponds or whatever people did in places like that.

She gave him an assessing stare. “Yet I feel you are about to beat him—but not on a physical level.”

That was absolutely correct. “Yup. I’m going to win this one. I want my horses back, and he needs to go somewhere else.”

Easier said than done, of course. That horse had no respect for fences at all. He’d kicked his way through more than one to get at the mares. Drake had thought about building an enclosure like the ones they used for bull riding at rodeos. But getting him into it was quite the challenge. Although he and Luce had barely met, he sensed that she wasn’t going to agree with what he had to say next. “A tranquilizer dart is probably my best bet at this point. I’m going to hire someone to do it because that horse knows me. He’s smart. He knows exactly who runs this ranch. I’m a good shot, but this is about as close as I’ve ever gotten to him and I doubt I could do it from here.”

As predicted, she turned to scowl at him and said firmly, as if she had some authority over the situation, “No. You aren’t shooting him with anything.”