Sandra Marton - The Taming Of Tyler Kincaid

If Tyler Kincaid thought the same thing, he was in for a nasty surprise.

Eventually the mare was trembling with exhaustion. Tyler rubbed her ears, whispered to her, then jerked his head toward Manuel, who was watching with the others.

“She’s had enough for today,” he told the boy. “Take her inside. Give her a good rubdown and some of those special oats she’s so fond of.”

Caitlin waited for Manuel to point out that Tyler could take the mare inside himself, that he was nobody to give orders, but the boy nodded and did as he’d been told. The same thing had happened when Tyler began working with the mare. One of the older men had been standing around, smoking. Tyler had asked him to get the mare’s tack and Pete hadn’t hesitated, even though he was as independent in spirit as most cowboys.

There was an art to giving men like this orders, and some basic rules.

Rule number one was that one ranch hand didn’t give an order to another but the men seemed to have forgotten that. Tyler asked a man to do something, the man did it. It was as simple as that.

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