Rose couldn't argue his point. She learned early on that you never tell a wolfdog what to do. You have discussions with it, mainly whether or not you're going to share your sandwich with it. But she didn't believe Tundra was as unhappy as Tyler implied. "He listens pretty well and he's intelligent so I think he got the best traits of both wolf and dog," she said. "What I read is that if you breed the best wolfdogs with each other, after a few generations you get nice animals."
"Actually, what you get are dogs because you’ve re-domesticated the wolf into a dog," Tyler said. "Meanwhile, you have the problem of what to do with the culls—euthanize them or put them in overloaded rescues where they spend their lives pacing around in a world that doesn't work for them. And I hope you don't plan to breed him."
"Don't worry," Rose said. "He's already neutered." Looking at Tyler with curiosity, she asked, "How do you know so much about wolfdogs? I assume you've never owned one."
"I haven't, but I worked one summer at a wolf sanctuary up in Washington, which was long enough to know that a wolf hybrid is a complete misfit," Tyler replied. "It doesn't think like a dog, respond like a dog, or relate to its owner like a dog, and it isn't a wolf because without its pack it's socially crippled. A low content hybrid may appear gentle, but when you look in its eyes you know you can never trust it because you'll always see the call of the wild in them."
Rose too had seen something in Tundra's eyes at times but she'd never been able to define it. "I know he's restless and I want to understand him, so what exactly do you see when you look in his eyes?" she asked, while looking down at Tundra, who was watching the circling of a hawk.
"I don't know. I can't explain. It's just there," Tyler replied. "It's a feeling that comes when our eyes connect, like the animal's silently talking to me. Sometimes it works with humans too."
When Rose glanced up she found Tyler looking at her, like he was studying her, for whatever reason. He was a baffling man. "Is that how you knew it was okay to walk up to him when he was growling, by reading what was in his eyes?" she asked.
"No, I applied pack instinct," Tyler replied. "A wolf in a pack can stop something instantly with just a look, so when you force them to look into your eyes they can't bite you. I'm curious about one thing though. Both times he growled at me he had his ears up and his eyes wide open, like he was excited. It's a mixed message. Does he do that with everyone who approaches you?"
The question caught Rose off guard. She hadn't been aware of anything when Tyler approached her both times, except how strikingly handsome he was, so the idea that Tundra was reacting to her response to Tyler was not so implausible, but she wasn't about to let Tyler know what she now suspected. "He has a kind of sixth sense about people and his own reasons for not liking certain ones," she replied. "Are you still planning your attack on the spirits in Whispering Springs by opening fissures?"
Tyler looked as if he were holding back a smile, as he said, "Are you saying that Tundra growls at me because I don't believe in spirits?"
"That could be a good assumption," Rose replied. "I guess the only way you can find out is to stop what you're doing at the spring and see if Tundra changes his attitude."
Tyler's eyes brightened with amusement, making her heart skip some, as he said, "You mean, roll over and join his pack."
At once, the female silliness of moments before was replaced by irritation. "You're very one-sided in your quest, having no regard for the feelings of those who place great importance on the spiritual nature of the spring," Rose replied.
"That spring is no more spiritual than Old Faithful Geyser," Tyler said. "The only difference between the two is that the geyser beneath the spring doesn't rise to the surface because the water's trapped, so instead, steam seeps through fissures and cracks while those sitting in the pool let their imaginations run wild."
Feeling increasingly exasperated with Tyler's callous attitude, Rose said, "Whether you're right or wrong makes no difference. You're being insensitive in that many people believe there is something mystical about the spring and you should respect that."
Tyler let out an ironic snort. "If scientists respected everything people considered mystical, they'd still be teaching in school that the earth is flat and ships could fall off. But to relieve your mind for now, I won't be doing anything there until after the rodeo in Wyoming where I'm contracted to perform at the Cody Stampede."
"Perform… riding on your horse's backs?" Rose asked.
Tyler nodded. "I'll be taking them in pairs while demonstrating Roman riding."
Rose found herself blinking rapidly as the dream emerged yet again, almost as clearly as when she stood on the embankment at the Oregon coast while looking across a wide expanse of sandy beach at a man maneuvering six horses in an elongated figure eight.
Until fifteen minutes ago, when she peered into the clearing and saw Tyler interacting with six nearly-white horses, she'd pegged what happened on the beach as a figment of her imagination. She still wasn't absolutely sure it wasn't a dream.
Brows gathered, she said, "Do you ever run your horses on the beach at the coast?"
"Why would I do that?" Tyler asked.
"I suppose no reason," Rose replied, feeling foolish, realizing once and for all that what transpired at the coast had been nothing as glamorous and romantic as having witnessed the man in the dream her grandmother described come to life at daybreak on an isolated beach. Nor did she want to have romantic feelings for Tyler, so in a sense it was a relief to know that what she'd witnessed had been a fantasy, by whatever form it materialized.
"Actually I do take them there on occasion," Tyler said. "The sand's good for their muscles, taking them into the surf tests their complete trust in me, and they like running in the water."
Rose tried to process the reality of it. This man, who lived in an otherwise spiritual vacuum, had an almost mystical bond with his horses. She was even having trouble convincing herself that she should stay clear of someone whose short term goal was to desecrate a spring that hundreds of people praised. But there was still a chance that his trip to the coast and her dream were isolated incidents. On the long shot that they were, she said, "Did you happen to take them there a couple of weeks ago?"
Tyler eyed her curiously, like her question surprised him. Then he nodded, and replied, "I check the tide tables and go early in the morning of a low outgoing tide, when no one's on the beach, but apparently you were there too."
"Yes," Rose said, "but not on the beach. I was on a rise above the beach. The family of a friend of mine has a weekend house and when the family's not using it, friends can stay. It was a clear night so I decided to sleep out. I love sleeping under the stars and do it whenever I can, and I especially love it at the ocean where the sky's wide open and you can see forever."
Tyler looked at her in a way that had Rose's heart hammering because it was the same look she'd seen him give his horses when he was happy with them—eyes that were soft with affection, a slight smile on his lips. But the next moment his eyes began moving slowly over her face and pausing, as if studying her features.
Feeling unsettled with his close perusal, she glanced over at his horses, which were standing in a group looking their way, and said, "How have you managed to teach your mares all the things you have? My family has always had horses, but what you do with yours is amazing."
"Not really," Tyler replied. "It's all about herd instinct. Horses are social animals that depend on a leader for survival, so if the leader turns and runs, the herd instinctively follows."
"That explains why they follow you," Rose said, "but not how you got them to do things in unison, like loping around you in a circle."
"That's just copycat behavior," Tyler replied. "Synchronized reactions are characteristic of herd animals. A foal cantering alongside its mother often matches her strides in perfect cadence, and in the same way, my mares mimic what I do since I'm their leader. Then I show them lots of affection to let them know I'm pleased, so they have a st
rong desire to do what I ask them to do."
"How long does it take to get them to do things?" Rose asked, realizing it was a ridiculous question that had no exact answer, but her thoughts were scattered between her reaction to Tyler's presence, what he was able to do with his horses, and the realization that she'd never been awestruck before and she was having trouble processing the unfamiliar feeling.
"It varies with the things," Tyler replied.
"A month? Two months? Six months to train them?" Rose asked, because she'd run out of questions, mainly because Tyler was a distraction that made her thoughts jump around.
Tyler smiled, which made Rose edgy, not knowing if he was amused with her mindless cross-examination, or because he'd picked up on her female reactions to him, which had to be evident in the heavy beating of her heart, which was pulsating in her neck, and her quickened breathing, which she could do nothing about except fill her lungs with air and try to settle things down, which he no doubt picked up on because he seemed to be an unusually perceptive man.
"I don't count the days or hours," Tyler replied. "Two of my mares have never performed with the team, but with luck they'll be ready by the time we leave for Wyoming."
"That's a thousand miles away. Will you trailer them there by yourself?" Rose asked, while wondering about the whole process of moving and stabling that many horses that distance. His magnificent mares were definitely not your average rodeo horses. She could not begin to imagine what they were worth.
"I've contracted with professional horse transporters," Tyler replied. "I have a brother who lives in southeast Oregon who'll meet me there. Josh raises bucking bulls with my brother, Jeremy and his wife, Billy, who live… somewhere, and Josh will be bringing a couple of Billy's bulls, so he'll be helping me at the other end."
Rose puzzled over Tyler's wording. "You said Jeremy and his wife live somewhere. Does that mean they live near your other brother or somewhere else?" she asked.
"Somewhere else," Tyler replied.
"Where?" Rose asked, still baffled by the exchange.
"I don't know," Tyler replied.
"You don't know where your brother lives?" Rose asked.
"It's a long story," Tyler replied. "Josh is looking after Billy's bulls until she and Jeremy can return home from where they are right now, and that's all I can say."
Rose thought about that. It made no sense, but it made no difference either because beyond her job at the museum, she was not directly involved with the Hansen family. Except that the youngest of the sons was dominating far too much of her mind.
Deciding it was time to cut this encounter short, she said, "I'd better get on with exercising Tundra and finding materials for my baskets."
To her surprise, Tyler lifted his hand to her face and said, while tracing the outline of her cheek and the angle of her jaw, "You have good bone structure."
It was an awkward thing for him to say, and Rose wasn't sure what to make of it, except that for some reason she thought it was a compliment. The man was perplexing. The only thing she could think to reply was, "So do you."
Tyler smiled, which she found both arousing and unsettling, arousing because she got the impression he was interested in her, and unsettling for the same reason. But as she stood looking at him, he slowly moved toward her, as if he were about to kiss her, and when she thought he would, he stopped, squared his shoulders and did nothing.
After a stretch of silence, Rose tightened Tundra's leash, and said, "I guess I'd better get back," then quickly turned into the woods. But as she retraced her tracks, with Tundra following along on the leash, her feelings were more conflicted than ever. After having watched Tyler with his horses, playing with them as if he were one of them, and seeing the affection between them, she knew it would be impossible to unravel such a man, one who communicated with horses on a level that transcended normal human-animal communication, yet he refused to believe that the voices in the mountain could be anything more than steam seeping through cracks because the voices didn't touch that special place in him that could connect with horses.
Why she couldn't let the man go, and shove all thoughts of him from her mind, she couldn't understand. But she also realized he wasn't the dispassionate man she'd thought him to be, at least not with his horses, but it was the human connection that he lacked, which was why he was dispassionate about what he perceived to be ill-informed people hearing non-existent voices. But now, her continued attraction to the man was more confounding that ever.
If you want to read on, here's the link to Forbidden Spirits on Amazon
BOOKS BY PATRICIA WATTERS
DANCING MOON RANCH SERIES
Prequel: Justified Deception
LIVING WITH LIES TRILOGY
Book 1: Righteous Lies
Book 2: Pandora's Box
Book 3: False Pretenses
THE LIES UNCOVERED TRILOGY
Book 4: Uncertain Loyalties
Book 5: Becoming Jesse's Father
Book 6: Bittersweet Return
CUTTING THE TIES TRILOGY
Book 7: Cross Purposes
Book 8: Dancing With Danger
Book 9: Bucking the Odds
BOUND BY LOVE TRILOGY
Book 10: Forbidden Spirits (mid 2014)
Book 11: Imperfect Magic (late 2014)
Book 12: Sheer Combustion (early 2015)
Sequel: Finding Justice (mid 2015)
HISTORICAL ROMANCES
Colby's Child
Perilous Pleasures
Miss Phipps and the Cattle Baron
Her Master's Touch
Come Be My Love
CONTEMPORARY ROMANCES
In Hot Pursuit
Broken Promises
Adversaries and Lovers
Never Too Late
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Born and raised in New Orleans, Louisiana, Patricia Watters gave up city life and now writes from a log cabin nestled in the evergreen forests of Oregon. An author with Harlequin and Avon-Harper Collins in the past, Patricia specializes in romance, and she invites you to visit her website and drop her a line. She responds to all notes. http://www.patriciawatters.com/
Bucking The Odds (Dancing Moon Ranch Book 9) Page 24