The Rancher's Wife

by April Arrington

  Amy winced, a lump rising in her throat. Betty had probably stayed up half the night, too. Worrying and weeping. And she’d been the cause of it.

  “Thank you, Mama.” Amy hugged her close, murmuring near her ear, “I’m not going anywhere yet, you know?”

  Betty sighed, squeezing her tight. “I know. I’m glad to have you home for however long you’re able to stay.” She pulled back and smiled. “I’m happy about your new job and I’ll help in whatever way I can. For now, let’s just have a great Christmas together, okay?”

  Amy grinned, the pressure easing in her chest. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Betty looked at Logan. “Dominic and Pop said they’d handle the trail rides for you today. So make sure you eat, too, before getting started.”

  Logan dipped his head and winked. “Yes ma’am.”

  Betty left, calling over her shoulder, “I gotta get back to the kitchen. Sun’s coming up and there’s a hungry crowd of guests that needs to be fed.”

  Amy tugged at Traci’s arm as she turned to leave. “You’re still gonna help me out with Thunder, right?”

  Traci’s brows rose. “Do you want me to?”

  “Of course. I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Amy placed the foiled sandwiches in Traci’s hand. “Can you do me a favor and hold on to these? I need to change out of these clothes before we get started, then you can watch me work on getting Thunder out of the stall.” She laughed. “Or, at least, try getting him out. Do you think you can round up a couple sticks and strings? We’ll need a rope, too.”

  Traci beamed. “No problem.”

  Amy changed into a gray hoodie, jeans and boots then joined Logan and Traci outside. The strong morning sun had broken out above the horizon and burned off the frost from last night. The air turned warmer and the wind less fierce. Amy tilted her head back and pushed up her sleeves, absorbing the heat.

  Figured. Georgia weather was unpredictable at best. It could be thirty degrees at night then spring back to seventy by noon. She’d learned a long time ago to just take it as it came.

  She, Logan and Traci took up residence on the white fence lining the paddock. They lingered over the sweet and salty breakfast Betty had provided, watching the horses stroll across the dormant brown grass of the fields. The pleasant chatter of guests sounded and, soon, Raintree’s grounds were speckled with visitors, all soaking up the pleasant late–November day.

  After eating, Logan brought the hose around and they scrubbed their hands under the spray, cleaning the traces of grease and sweet aroma of the sandwiches away. The fewer strange smells introduced to Thunder, the better.

  Amy brought the hose to her mouth, swallowing a few gulps of the water, the metallic taste of the nozzle clinging to her tongue. Logan followed suit, splashing the spray over his face and rasping his palms over the stubble lining his jaw. The thick muscles of his shoulders and back rippled beneath the tight pull of his shirt with each movement.

  Amy’s palms itched at the display, a deep longing to smooth her hands over his broad shoulders and weave her fingers through the dark waves of his hair overwhelming her. She turned away and faced Traci.

  “Did you round up everything?”

  “Yep.” Traci handed the items to her. “Rope, sticks and strings, just like you asked for.”

  Amy thanked her and attached strings to two of the training sticks.

  “You ready?” Logan asked, turning off the faucet and shaking his hands dry.

  Amy nodded, handed Logan the rope and one of the sticks then led the way into the stable. Her heart tripped in her chest.

  A finger threaded through her back belt loop and tugged. She stopped and looked over her shoulder. Logan’s eyes peered into hers, the sensual curve of his lips pressing into a firm line.

  “Go easy, Amy,” he said.

  She swallowed hard, ignoring the warm flutter in her belly, and walked to the back of the stable to stand in front of Thunder’s stall. The stallion pinned his ears and tossed his head back, nostrils flaring on sharp pulls of air.

  Amy’s thighs trembled. The shaking traveled down her knees to her shins, leaving her lower half weak and unstable.

  “Easy,” Logan repeated.

  He stood a few feet away, a tic appearing in his jaw. Traci hovered behind him.

  Amy waited as Logan prepared his rope, studying the movements of his strong hands. The thick, twisted fibers seemed like such a weak support against a frightened, thousand-pound animal. She closed her eyes and placed her hand on the latch of Thunder’s stall.

  * * *

  LOGAN MOVED CLOSE to the stall, keeping an eye on Thunder as he whipped the rope overhead and lassoed him. The stallion cried and kicked the wall with his back hooves, thrashing against the pull of the rope.

  “It’s okay, boy,” Amy murmured.

  Thunder stopped at the sound of her voice, pinned his ears back and pawed the ground. Logan’s throat closed.

  “Go wait for us outside, Traci.” Logan firmed his hold on the rope, then nodded after Traci left. “Let him out.”

  Amy unlatched the stall and pulled it open, raising her arms and directing Thunder’s feet toward the exit. The stallion backed away, jerking wildly, but eventually exited with her encouragement.

  It took several minutes to maneuver Thunder out of the stable and into the round pen. Logan removed the rope and let him buck around the pen until he settled down and drew to a halt on one side.

  Amy moved toward the entrance of the pen, her tender expression causing Logan’s mouth to run dry.

  “He’s not like you remember, Amy. He’s aggressive now. Likes to dive and bite. You have to start hard and end hard.” Logan lifted his training stick, jiggling the string and motioning toward hers. “Use that thing on him if you need to.”

  She frowned. “I’ve never whipped a horse and I won’t start now.”

  Logan shook his head. “I’ve never done it, either. But the last time I tried to work with him, he almost forced me into a position where I had no choice.”

  “This time will be different,” she said, walking to the gate.

  He bit back a curse. “How you figure?”

  She stopped and faced him. “Because you have help. We’re doing this together.”

  Together. Logan glanced away, focusing on Thunder and ignoring the pleasurable tingle sweeping through him. There was no room for distractions in that pen.

  He cleared his throat. “We start hard and we end hard.”

  Amy opened the gate and they entered, walking to the center of the round pen. Thunder pinned his ears and pawed the ground, dipping his head and snaking it from side to side as if to attack. Logan immediately threw his left hand up and whipped his training stick behind Thunder’s heels, lashing the ground with the string.

  “Move,” he shouted.

  Thunder started then ran left, making it halfway around the pen before he stopped. Amy stepped in, striking her stick against the ground behind him and forcing him forward. Thunder balked, rearing and spinning his back to her.

  Amy slapped the ground with the stick again, regaining Thunder’s attention. She pointed in the air and shouted, “Right.”

  Thunder complied, running around the curve of the pen, but stopped again. He laid back his ears again and made to charge.

  Logan ran him back, thrashing the ground with his stick and yelling, “Move!”

  They continued the tactics, shouting commands and running Thunder around the pen until he began to respond.

  “Good boy,” Amy praised, easing off when Thunder obeyed a request the first time it was issued.

  Logan returned to her side. They stood still, breathing hard and watching Thunder trot around the pen.

  “He’s doing good, huh?” Traci called from the other side of the fence.

 
Amy’s eyes followed Thunder’s progress. “Looks that way.” She turned, glancing up at him with excitement. “It’s an improvement, right?”

  Logan smiled. “Yeah. But he still has a long way to go.” He took a step back but stayed close to her side. “When he comes around, ask him to face you. See if he’ll give you both eyes.”

  Amy did as instructed, dropping her arms and maintaining her stance. Thunder drew to a halt, faced her and pricked his ears forward.

  “Remember me, beautiful?” she asked.

  Thunder huffed and ducked his head.

  Amy took a step forward. “It’s okay, boy.” Then another.

  Thunder licked his lips and Amy moved close. She murmured phrases of affection and rubbed his forehead.

  “Can we try to saddle him now?” Traci asked.

  “Not yet,” Logan said. “This is just the first step. It’ll take a lot of attention and time.”

  Traci eased closer to the fence, eyes glued to Amy’s actions. Thunder relaxed even more with each of Amy’s touches and eventually, he allowed Amy to smooth her palm over his neck. He leaned into her hand, tilting his head slightly when she scratched a favorable spot.

  Amy giggled and smiled. “He might put up a hard front but he’s still a softie underneath.” She crossed carefully to Thunder’s other side and continued the tender touches. “You like getting attention. Huh, handsome?”

  A low rumble of pleasure sounded in Thunder’s throat and he leaned closer to Amy.

  Logan chuckled. She was good with a horse. Always had been.

  “Ready to give him his space?” Logan opened the gate.

  Amy nodded and they exited the round pen.

  “You’re stopping?” Traci’s brows furrowed as she moved to Amy’s side.

  “Yeah,” Logan said. “Horses learn as much from the release of pressure as they do when you exert it.”

  “Thunder’s worked hard and he’s been cooped up in that stall for a long time.” Amy squinted against the afternoon sun, shielding her eyes with her hand. “He deserves a chance to burn off some energy.”

  As if on cue, Thunder cried and tore around the pen. His black mane rippled and clods of dirt sprayed from his hooves on every pass.

  “How’s the training going?”

  Logan turned to find Cissy strolling toward them. The boys skipped ahead of her, their blue eyes bright and excited.

  “You might want the boys to stay back, Cissy,” Logan said. “He’s making progress, but he’s still dangerous.”

  Cissy hurried forward and pinched the boys’ shirts, tugging them away a few feet. The boys grumbled and strained against her hold, gazes flicking expectantly from Thunder to Amy.

  “He seems angry today,” Cissy said.

  “No more than usual. They’ve done wonders with him already,” Traci said, grabbing the railing as if preparing to duck down. She glanced at Amy. “Want me to help you run him the next round?”

  “Not yet.” Amy threw out a hand. “Stay there. And help Cissy keep the boys still.”

  Thunder noticed the onlookers, his eyes growing wild and his cries increasing.

  “He just wants out,” Jayden said, pulling agains Cissy’s hold.

  “Shhh.” Cissy tapped a finger against her mouth. “Amy and Logan are helping him. You have to be quiet if you want to stay.”

  Logan tensed, shifting from one boot to the other, and kept an eye on Thunder. The stallion remained at the opposite end of the enclosure, bucking and rearing. Each kick of his hooves against the fence clanged louder than the one before it.

  The muscles of his neck and chest stood out in sharp relief. His midnight hide gleamed almost blue in the sun. The long black strands of his mane and tail flew in strong arcs with each of his head tosses and kicks.

  “It’s okay, boy,” Amy soothed, slipping back through the fence.

  “Amy,” Logan said. “Wait.” He caught her wrist and tugged. “He’s too worked up.”

  “I’ll be fine,” she whispered, pulling away.

  She straightened and lifted a hand. The shiny length of her raven hair rippled across her back as she approached the center of the pen with graceful ease. The stallion backed up, calming slightly at the sight of her.

  Logan’s eyes clung to them, admiration surging through him. A crack of laughter rang out from a neighboring field. Two guests cackled from their saddles as their friend struggled to mount his horse with a ranch hand’s assistance. Thunder bucked. His hooves struck with violent smacks against the fencing again.

  “Go ahead, boy,” Amy said. “Kick all that steam out.”

  The click and creak of the paddock gate rang out.

  “No, Jayden!” Cissy shouted.

  Logan spun, eyes shooting to the gate. Jayden clung to the top of it, releasing the latch and swaying as it swung open. Cissy ran toward Jayden as fast as the girth of her belly allowed, stumbling over the ground and falling hard to her hands and knees.

  Hooves pounded at Logan’s back, increasing in intensity and heading straight for Jayden and Cissy. Logan shoved away from the fence and sprinted toward them.

  “Move, Amy,” he yelled, racing past.

  Logan shoved the gate as he ran, thrusting Jayden out of Thunder’s path and barely rolling Cissy out of the way as Thunder charged. The stallion barreled past, eyes wild and lips drawn, kicking up a spray of dirt. It stung Logan’s eyes, caking his lashes and obscuring his vision. He rubbed the back of his arm across his face and blinked hard.

  Shrieks and yelps from the guests shattered the cheerful atmosphere as the startled stallion darted wildly in different directions, alarming the other horses and causing them to bolt. One of the horses saddled up for the next trail ride reared. The man on his back toppled off and slammed to the ground.

  Logan knelt at Cissy’s side and cradled her against him. She sat up with his assistance, chest rising and falling on ragged breaths.

  “Are you okay?” Amy asked, rushing over and placing a hand to the curve of Cissy’s belly.

  Cissy nodded and pushed to her feet. “I’m fine.”

  “Don’t force it,” Logan said, supporting her arms. “Sit for a minute.”

  “I’m okay, really,” Cissy said. She tried for a smile. “Just clumsy nowadays.” Her blue eyes darted beyond Logan’s shoulder, voice trembling. “Jayden?”

  Logan glanced toward the gate. Traci stood beside it, hugging both crying boys against her legs.

  “Are they okay?” Logan called out.

  Traci nodded. “They’re fine.”

  The yells from guests continued. Confused by the crowds, Thunder gathered speed and leapt over a fence into an adjoining pasture, galloping through groups of horses. They scattered and took off in all directions.

  “Get him,” Cissy gasped, waving a hand in Thunder’s direction. “Before he hurts someone else.”

  Amy spun and took off. Logan tore his eyes from Amy and tightened his hold on Cissy’s arms. He skimmed his gaze down her length once more for injuries. There were none visible aside from the scrapes on her hands.

  “Go,” Cissy insisted, patting his chest. “I’m fine. Go help Amy.”

  “Aunt Cissy?” Kayden ran to her side and reached a hand up to her belly.

  Logan grabbed it and tugged the boy around to face him. “You and your brother go straight to the house and tell Mrs. Betty she’s needed down here right away.”

  Kayden blinked, blue eyes darting over the chaotic fields surrounding them.

  “Kayden.” Logan shook him. “Do you hear me?”

  “Yes, sir.” He motioned to his brother and they ran toward the safety of the main house.

  “Traci, stay with Cissy,” he said. “You’re not to leave her side until your mom gets here. Understand?”

  Tra
ci nodded and wrapped an arm around Cissy. Logan hesitated, stomach dropping as Amy gained more distance.

  Cissy shoved at his chest. “I’m fine. Go.”

  Logan scrambled around in the dirt for the rope. Fisting it, he tore off after Amy.

  She was ahead of him, climbing over the fence. Logan ran faster, slowing as he approached the pasture Amy had entered. Thunder paced at one end, tossing his head and eyeing the chaotic movements of guests. Amy stood several feet away, motionless, with her right side facing Thunder.

  Logan froze. Thunder was scared and confused. And Amy would be no match for a thousand-pound animal that fought to protect itself. If Thunder felt threatened enough to attack...

  She’s dead.

  Logan flinched. Jayden’s innocent whisper from earlier returned, spearing his gut and reverberating in his skull.

  His hands shook. Exactly as they had years ago. The night he’d sat beside Amy’s hospital bed, watching her work her way silently through the dark delivery of their stillborn daughter. Unable to help her. And unable to save their baby girl.

  She’s dead.

  Logan’s heart slammed against his ribs, his eyes blurring. “Get out of there, Amy. Let me handle it.”

  She glanced at Thunder and walked a few steps away from him. “Just give him a minute.”

  Logan frowned and studied her determined expression. She wasn’t leaving that pasture and there was no way he could drag her out without spooking Thunder even more.

  Thunder eyed Amy, jerking his head and shuffling from side to side. Amy moved further away, stopped then murmured words of affection.

  They watched and waited. After several restless movements, Thunder stilled and took a hesitant step toward her.

  She walked a few more steps, slowing as Thunder approached and halted calmly at her side. Amy reached out, stroked Thunder’s forehead with the back of her hand and eased away. She applied and removed her touch on both sides of the stallion, speaking to him in soothing tones.

  A few minutes later, she walked away again. Thunder followed, stepping behind her and waiting for direction. Logan sighed as Amy stroked Thunder’s forehead with one hand and held her left side with the other. A small amount of blood seeped through her shirt.