“I’m glad you think so…since he’s yours.”
“Now, now,” his grandmother said. “Enough of that. The horse is yours, no matter what the bill of sale says.”
But Sam was shaking her head. “A deal’s a deal. He’s yours, at least until I can pay you back, which I promise to do.” Her smile faded a little and Clint knew she was thinking…somehow.
“Yeah, well, one of these days you’ll have to show us what he can do,” he said.
“How about you ride him since you own him,” she suggested.
“No, thanks. I like my western saddles.”
“You could ride him western,” she insisted. “He’s a quarter horse, remember?”
When Gigi laughed, Clint glanced over at her. His grandmother looked tickled to pieces—and it was such a pleasure to see. She hadn’t laughed like that since, well, since his grandfather had died.
“She has a point, Clint,” Gigi said. “I say you should ride him.”
“No.” Clint shook his head.
“Chicken?” Sam taunted.
“Smart,” Clint contradicted.
“Fine. I’ll ride him in a western saddle. I’ll even take him out on a trail to prove to you that the fancy show horse you own is, in fact, a horse bred to chase cows, no matter what his size.”
“That horse chasing cows is something I’d like to see,” Dean called out.
“Deal.”
“But, Sam,” Gigi said, switching suddenly into mother-mode. “You have no idea how that horse of yours will react.”
“It’s your horse,” she repeated. “And I suspect he’ll react just fine. He’s seen cows at the shows. So as long as you don’t mind me trying something new with your horse, I’m game to try.”
“I’m sure you are,” Gigi said. “But let’s take it slow, okay? Sure, a trail ride today, that’ll be good for him. He can stretch his legs after his long journey.”
“Actually, I was thinking of taking Coaster on the roundup…if that’s okay with you.”
“No,” Clint said. “You have no idea how your horse is going to react out on a trail. Creeks, wildlife and rough terrain—no place for a fancy animal like that.”
“He’s a horse,” she said, “not a show dog. He’ll do just fine.”
“No.”
“Gigi,” she implored, turning toward his grandmother.
“I have to agree with Clint on this one,” the woman said.
Sam’s gaze darted between the two of them. “How about if I prove it to you.”
“Prove it how?” Clint asked.
“Like Gigi suggested, when you’re done with work today, meet me at the arena. We’ll move some cattle inside there.”
“We haven’t brought any cattle down from pasture.”
“I’ll bring a few head in,” Dean offered.
“Dean.” Clint shook his head.
“What?” the young ranch hand asked. “I wanna watch a rodeo tonight.”
Clint crossed his arms. “Don’t you have work to do?”
Dean looked at him sheepishly. “I was just offering to help.”
“We don’t need your help.”
“Actually,” Sam said, “if he wants to move some cows for me, that’d be great.” Her horse tossed its head impatiently. Sam soothed him with a kind hand. “See. He wants to go play, too. Don’t you, boy?”
“We’ll talk about it later,” Clint said. “Right now, we all need to get back to work.” He looked at the employees that’d gathered around. “Go on,” he said. “We’re heading out tomorrow at dawn. Let’s make sure we’re ready.”
“Speaking of that,” Gigi said, “I still have my own packing to do.”
Which left him alone with Sam. “You’re not going to take that horse of yours out on the trail.”
“Oh yeah?” she asked, fishing the lead line through her hand so she could scoot closer. “You going to ground me in the house to keep me off him.”
He was half-tempted to pull her into his arms to kiss the sassiness off her face.
“Yeah, to your room,” he said softly, but the words were a mistake because the minute he said them, he was reminded of what had happened yesterday morning—in her room—and how much he wanted to do the same thing tonight.
“Is that a threat? Or a promise?”
“Take it as you will,” he said. But he couldn’t stop himself from touching her. “Go ride your horse,” he said. “Get some practice time in. But no cows.”
“Will you join me?”
“Wish I could,” he said. “I’ve got too much work to do. But I’ll see you tonight.”
“After dinner?” she asked suggestively.
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?” Her eyebrows arched.
“It’s going to be a long day, Sam. Honestly, I don’t know if I’m going to have the energy to do much more than crawl between the covers.”
“I see,” she said. “You’re the love-’em-and-leave-’em type.”
“No,” he said on a huff of laughter. “I’m the let’s-take-things-slow type.”
“And what if I’m the take-things-fast type?” She smiled up at him flirtatiously.
“I would say slow down, champ. We have all the time in the world.”
Something changed in her face, something he might not have noticed if he hadn’t been watching her carefully.
“What is it?” he asked. “What’d I say?”
“Nothing,” she said quickly. “Nothing at all. I was just thinking you’re right. You’ve got a lot to do. We’ll be leaving tomorrow. I should be letting you get back to work.”
“Hey, wait,” he said when she turned away, Coaster following meekly behind. “Sam,” he called out again.
Reluctantly she faced him.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he said gently. “I’ll see you later. And, who knows, I might just have enough energy to kiss you senseless again.”
She smiled wanly. “Don’t mind me,” she said, running back and kissing him on the cheek. “I think I’m just overwhelmed by everything that’s happening.”
“Well, I can certainly understand that,” he said, rubbing her upper arm. His ranch hands were watching and he knew he was going to be teased about that peck she’d just given him.
Jealous. They’d all be jealous.
“Go on,” he said. “Ride your horse. Away from the cows. I’ll peek in on you in a bit.”
WE HAVE ALL THE TIME in the world.
But what if they didn’t? Sam thought, leading Coaster to the barn so she could tack him up. What if, like so many other things in her life, something changed…something radical and unexpected—like her vision. God, she hadn’t even told him about her eyes.
Hey, Clint, thanks for jumping into bed with me. Did I mention I’m going blind?
She paused at the entrance to the barn, ostensibly to let Coaster sniff the interior, but there was another reason. It’d gotten to be a habit of hers. She would pause for a moment and let her eyes adjust to the sudden darkness, allowing herself to feel—just for an instant—what it was going to be like when the world went dark. Permanently, went dark.
“Maybe he has all the time in the world,” she said, looking over at Coaster. “But I don’t.”
She knew what she was about to do would make him mad. It might even make him mad enough to leave her home tomorrow. But she honestly couldn’t think of another way to convince Clint that Coaster could be trusted on the trail. And doing exactly that suddenly became critical to her. Once her vision went away, she wouldn’t be riding again, not unless someone led her around. This might be one of her last chances to do something with Coaster that she could remember forever—in her mind’s eye.
So she tacked up her horse. When she was finished, she looked up and down that barn aisle and nonchalantly closed off one end of the barn.
Someone did look up. She just smiled sheepishly and said, “Too drafty,” and the guy went right back to work.
To be honest, people were com
ing and going from all over. Dean and Elliot and a bunch of the other ranch hands were setting out gear or fitting saddles to the horses. There were packs on the ground, grain bags for the horses, sleeping bags, canvas covers and what looked to be tents. Clint was gone, she’d been told. Off to pull in some horses from the pasture to use on their ride.
Her timing couldn’t be more perfect.
She slipped between the massive double doors. She knew how to work cattle chutes. Her trainer back in Delaware specialized in all types of show events, even ones that involved cattle, and so she’d lent a hand or two there. It was a simple matter to push a few of the yearling Herefords into an alleyway, then close them off. Even more simple to open the chutes ahead of those cows, then force them through. In a matter of minutes, she had five mooing, mad, brown-and-white steers in the arena.
“Shh,” she ordered, glancing back at the barn.
The doors were still closed and no one had noticed what she was doing. Her biggest fear was Clint returning, or Gigi spying her from the house.
“Okay, Coaster,” she told her horse once she snuck back into the barn, “I know we’re in a western saddle, but you can do this. We’ll show Clint and Gigi.”
Her horse seemed to eye her as if he knew she was up to no good. She almost laughed. Truly, she shared a bond with Coaster unlike any other. Her horse could do anything.
This would be fun. And maybe, if she was lucky, Clint would catch her doing it. She could prove to him that Coaster had what it took to be a ranch horse.
“Come on,” she said, opening one side of the barn doors and slipping out.
The cows were right where she left them. Coaster gave them hardly a look.
“See,” she told no one in particular, “this is going to be a piece of cake.”
Slipping into the arena proved to be the tricky part. Once the cows caught sight of her, they started running around. She had a second or two where she thought they’d come right at her, but they kept to one end.
“All-righty,” she said, studying Coaster. Funny, she’d never thought of her horse as being particularly big, but with that big old western saddle on him, he was closer to eighteen hands than seventeen. “Looks like we’ll need to use the fence.”
She glanced toward the house, convinced Gigi would come running toward her any minute now. When that didn’t happen, she glanced toward the rolling hills. No sign of Clint.
Coaster was busy staring at the cows and so he stood still as she climbed the fence, and then into the saddle. He wasn’t afraid of them, just curious. She clucked him forward.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Son of a—
She swiveled in the saddle. “Hey, Clint,” she said, smiling.
“Samantha, get down off that horse.”
“Why?” she asked. “You can see Coaster’s going to be fine. He’s not even looking at them.”
Well, that wasn’t exactly true. Her horse was very definitely staring, but it was no big deal.
“Sam,” Clint said in a non-nonsense, dead calm voice. “Get down from that horse now.”
There was one thing about Sam that Clint didn’t know. She had a stubborn streak a mile wide. “I’m just going to push the cows around for a little while,” she said. “Prove to you that old Coaster here can be a ranch horse.”
“Sam,” he repeated.
But Sam cued Coaster for a trot, and, being the obedient show horse that he was, Coaster went straight for the brown-and-white cows, head down, which was the quarter horse way to go. She knew immediately that he wasn’t as committed to the idea of working with steers as she was. “C’mon, boy. We can do this.”
But her horse had had enough. He stopped at least twenty feet away, head lowered, a loud snort coming from his nostrils.
“See,” Clint called. “Bad idea. Come out this instant.”
Sam just patted Coaster’s neck. She was in a western saddle. The thing had a horn. If she got in trouble, she’d just hold on. “It’s okay, Coaster. It’s just cows. No big deal.”
Her heart was pumping. To be honest, she hadn’t felt this alive since…well…since before the accident. There’d be hell to pay, but she was a terrific rider—if only Clint would give her a chance to prove herself.
Her horse took a step forward, his head still low, his breath still coming out in snorts, but Coaster trusted her. One of the steers at the end of the arena broke free. Sam tensed, having anticipated the move. Would Coaster run? Or would he hold his ground?
He held his ground.
“Good boy,” she called as the steer in question made a strafing run for the other end. Its buddies called out.
Now came the real test, sending Coaster after the cow. She would need to chase it back to the herd. Pulling on the reins, she pointed the gelding toward the far end of the arena. He meekly trotted in that direction. A lone cow didn’t seem to concern him as much as a whole herd.
“Good boy,” she told him.
Something must have clicked. Some long-forgotten genetic memory that switched on in Coaster’s mind because suddenly her English riding horse was eyeing that cow like it was a gunslinger at the O.K. Corral. The cow ducked right. Coaster followed.
“Hah,” she cried, glancing in Clint’s direction. “I told you he could do this.”
She followed after the steer, returning it to the herd. Another one broke free. She sent Coaster after it. Her horse still wasn’t too sure about that group of steers at the end of the arena, but he had no problem chasing after the lone deserter. This time Coaster ran. Sam found herself at the opposite end of the arena in no time. The cow rounded one corner, toward the left. So did Coaster. But then the cow turned back, abruptly facing Coaster.
“Crap!” she cried.
But her horse didn’t freak. He pinned his ears, and as the cow slid past, he spun on his backend. It was a move that would have done a cutting horse proud, but Sam wasn’t ready for it.
She was off balance, and as Coaster set off after the cow, she became even more off balance.
“Sam!” she heard Clint yell.
She was going to fall. Damn it. But having come off a horse more than a few times before, she knew what needed to be done. Curling her body into itself, she dove for the ground.
She hit with an oomph that would have done a cartoon character proud.
Clint was right beside her. “You fool, idiot, stubborn woman.”
But she was laughing. “Did you see that?” she asked, moving first one leg and then the other. All seemed to be in working order. She sat up on her elbows.
“Don’t move,” Clint said.
“I’m fine.” She pushed herself to her feet.
Coaster was only a few paces away, looking at her as if he was shocked she’d fallen off him. “That was incredible. He actually chased that cow.”
“You could have broken your neck.”
“Boxing cows?” she asked, moving to catch Coaster’s reins. “Don’t be silly.”
He stepped in front of her, his eyes all but spitting fire. “What were you thinking?”
“Coaster can make a ranch horse.”
“By chasing cattle?” he asked. “Lady, it takes a lot more than that to prove a horse’s mettle.”
“What other untrained animal would go after a steer like that?”
“I don’t care if he looks good enough to win the National Cutting Horse Futurity. It was a damn, stupid thing to do.”
“Clint, I’m fine,” she said, reaching out to touch his arm.
“Because you were lucky.”
“Riding horses is risky,” she said. “Always. The truth is I have less chance of getting hurt here, in a soft, sand arena, than I do out there.”
“You’re right,” he shot back. “It’s going to be too dangerous for you out there. You can’t go.”
“What!” she cried. “You can’t do that.”
“Yes, I can.” He crammed his hat down on his head. “I own this ranch and I can do whate
ver I want.”
“No, you don’t. Gigi owns this place.”
He leaned toward her. “Wrong.” He glanced at Coaster. “Bring that horse back to the barn. You’re through working cows for the day.”
“But, I—”
“Bring him back or you’ll never get on him again.”
“You wouldn’t do that,” she said, tipping her chin up. Yes, she knew she’d been reckless. All right, maybe even irresponsible, too, but he didn’t need to come down on her so hard.
I own this ranch.
How had she managed to miss that? Why hadn’t Gigi told her? Why hadn’t Clint?
“Yes, I would,” he said, a vein on the side of his neck popping out. “I own him, remember?” He turned away.
“Clint—”
He ignored her. Sam was left standing in the arena with nothing but Coaster and a few cows to keep her company. “Darn.”
Chapter Fifteen
“You’re being too hard on her,” Gigi told him later.
“Too hard on her?” Clint said, stuffing work shirts into the canvas duffel he’d be strapping to his saddle tomorrow. “We hadn’t even left the ranch yet and she’s already disobeying me.”
“She was trying to prove a point.”
Clint faced her. Eyes nearly as blue as his own stared back at him. “Don’t tell me you’re taking her side?”
“I just understand her reasons for doing what she did. Sometimes you’ve got to take the bull by the horns, especially with the men in this family.”
“She shouldn’t have done it,” Clint said, returning to his task.
“No, she shouldn’t have. You’re right. But she’s an excellent rider and she didn’t get hurt. And for some reason, it’s important she ride that horse of hers on the roundup.”
“I didn’t buy that horse from her so she could put herself in danger.”
“Actually, I arranged to buy the horse. But you were the one who called that horse broker at least twenty times to make sure he’d get here in time for the roundup. If you didn’t want her to ride him, why’d you push so hard?”
He shrugged, refusing to answer the question. But Gigi was like a dog with a bone.
“Why, Clint, if you weren’t thinking she might be able to use him this week?”
The Wrangler Page 10