To Tame a Wild Mustang

by J. Rose Allister

  William smiled. “Should I have?”

  Well, didn’t the two of them look mighty pleased with themselves at her foolishness? She fought off the urge to hit William. “You were the one who said I made an impression.”

  He put his hat on and untethered his horse. “Oh, yes, ma’am. And you can consider me duly impressed.”

  “Amen,” Jack said, climbing on his horse.

  William’s thigh swung up over Windstorm, and he tipped his hat to her. “Night, Miss Marsh.”

  Her chest felt like a hammer was trying to beat its way out of it while she watched them trot off into the night.

  Chapter Four

  Try as he might, William couldn’t stop himself from throwing frequent glances at the stall where Kate was checking over Misty and the foals. The woman was truly a puzzle. She dressed like a man and put on a tough exterior, but had showed up to the dance the previous night in a dress that made her look soft and feminine and quite vulnerable. Sexy as hell, too. Then again, he found her deliciously all-woman regardless of what she wore, enough to make it difficult to keep his hands off her. Then there was the mystery of where they had allegedly met before. Was that just a game? How could he have made such an impression on her and not even remember?

  If that weren’t all curious enough, her behavior doubled the trouble. She’d shocked William and Jack both when she’d kissed him right out in the open. He knew Jack felt the same way because they talked about it all the way back. Jack fancied the girl, too, though he’d been more amused than put out by her boldness toward William. The heat of her lips had kept William up much of the night—in more than one sense. This time, he’d been the one moaning late into the night, though judging from Jack’s tight smile as they rode home, William probably hadn’t been the only one.

  After all that, Kate had marched onto the ranch that morning like a soldier, all business like nothing had happened. Her manner was as crisp as the tailored white blouse she paired with her split skirts. She checked on the foals with little more than an abrupt hello to the men she’d made big blue female eyes at the night before.

  He tried to turn his attention back to digging out Windstorm’s hoof. The horse had taken lame again this morning, and for the life of him, William couldn’t understand why. She’d seemed fine coming home from Kate’s, and William had cooled her down with a slow walk through the ranch and rubbed her good before putting her up for the night.

  William checked the underside of the horse’s hoof carefully. There was no sign of bruising or anything stuck in there that would explain the limp. He sighed and reached a hand up to pat the animal’s powerful flank.

  “The foals aren’t growing as much as I’d like to see.”

  Kate’s voice just outside Windstorm’s stall startled William into dropping the animal’s foot.

  He frowned at her. “They were a mite small at birth.”

  Kate nodded. “Twin foals don’t add up to much more size overall than a singleton birth. Still, I don’t see any appreciable growth, though they both get a strong tug on the teats. I’m afraid Misty’s not got enough milk for them both. You’d best start supplementing right away.”

  He rose and leaned on the gate to the stall, raising a brow. “I don’t quite have the right equipment for that, Doc.” He emphasized the last word on account of her cool, reserved manner toward him today. “And I don’t have other mares with milk right now.”

  “You’ve got cows. Their milk will do fine, if you add things to it to make it more fitting for the foals. I’ll give you the recipe before I head out.” She nodded toward his horse. “Something wrong with Windstorm?”

  “She took lame again this mornin’.”

  She scowled and moved forward. “I can have a look if you want.”

  Without waiting for an answer, Kate pulled open the stall and entered, murmuring gently to Windstorm and holding a hand out toward her muzzle. She gave a snort and a nod, almost as if granting permission for the hoss doc to examine the hurt leg. William stood close to Kate, and pressed together in the confined quarters of the straw-bedded space, it was damned hard not to think of the way her lips had melded against his.

  Kate crouched to run a hand along the horse’s front legs. “Is she tossing her head up when you walk her?”

  “Yep.”

  “Trying to take the weight off that front leg, then.”

  “And she’s limpin’ like she stepped on a hot poker. But there’s nothin’ wedged in the hoof.”

  “There’s some heat in this leg. That means an injury.” She straightened, stroking her mane with tenderness while turning a none-too-kind eye on William. “I told you, you’re riding her too hard.”

  “No, I’m not. You saw me ride her last night. I didn’t go any harder than that on the way back from your place. Somethin’ else is goin’ on.”

  She turned back to the animal with a frown. “Maybe it didn’t heal all the way the last time, and the walk to the dance and back was too much.”

  “She seemed fine all the way home.”

  “The leg has a small amount of swelling as well,” she said, bent over Windstorm’s front fetlock.

  “You don’t think it’s founder, do you?”

  “Not likely. Got any bandages?”

  “No.”

  “Old sheets or shirts I can tear up, then?” She stood close enough to trigger another in a string of memories of her lips pressed to his, and he licked his own in response. “I want to wrap the leg. It’ll hold down the swelling and give her some support while it’s healing. You’ll have to stay off her longer this time. No turn out time for a while, either.”

  Windstorm chuffed at this. “Guess she don’t like the sound of that. A free spirit, that one. Took about all I had to tame her.”

  Kate cocked her head. “I’d like to hear about that sometime. Meanwhile, she’ll like it even less if she stays lame ’til you have to put her down again.”

  He arched a brow. “Again?”

  Kate turned away. “I mean, like other horses of yours.”

  William thought about the odd comment while he went in the house after an old undershirt. She made efficient work of tearing it into strips, and then wrapping Windstorm’s leg in even, neat rounds from the horse’s cannon to the knee. The horse didn’t fuss a bit, which surprised William.

  “You really do have a touch with animals,” he said, watching her reaction closely. “I imagine that’s what sent you chasin’ after the vocation.”

  She got up and dusted off straw that had clung to the lower edges of her brown split skirt. “I told you before. You were the reason.”

  “I know you did. I just don’t twig how you came by that idea.”

  They wandered out of his stall and she turned to face him. “You really don’t remember, do you?”

  He searched her face carefully. “I’ve thought a lot about it. But I’m certain I’d have remembered if we’d met.”

  “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. I was a lot younger then. But I’d be shocked to hear you forgot that day.”

  “What day?”

  She sighed. “It was five years ago. You lost a horse because of my clumsiness.”

  He stared at her for a moment, then his eyes widened. “You were the girl who ran out in front of my paint.”

  She nodded. “He tossed you like a bad idea, and then the poor thing fell and broke its leg.”

  “And you didn’t want me to shoot him.” He nodded, his eyes traveling over her as he thought back to that day. The girl had a gleam of fire in her eyes when he’d pulled his pistol. Yes, Kate had that same fire, but the woman staring at him now had definitely blossomed from the skinny young thing he’d encountered that day.

  The blaze in her dark blue eyes brightened. “You lied to get me out of your hair so you could do the deed.”

  “I didn’t lie. I just told you to go ahead and leave.”

  She fisted her hips. “To get help.”

  He shook his head. “No, that part was your i
dea. I just didn’t want you to have to watch. You were young and set dead against it.”

  “Fine, so it was a lie of omission.”

  “You’re a hoss doc now, so you’ve learned I was right. There is no cure for a broke leg.”

  “Actually, I’m still not convinced that’s the case.”

  He laughed. “So, you invented crutches for horses after all.”

  The look she shot him silenced his fun. “There are other treatments that can allow a horse to recover.” She looked at the ground when he raised a brow. “Theoretically.”

  “You’ve never had it work.”

  “Doesn’t mean it won’t someday.” She folded her arms and lifted her chin. “Mark my words, animal medicine will see horses survive broken legs. I didn’t cast my lot in with veterinary science just to find out that a cure is impossible.”

  He walked up to her, his voice gentling. “You really went off in search of vet trainin’ because of my horse?”

  She nodded. “You thought I was playing around carelessly when I ran in front of you. But I really was being chased, you know. Either way, I felt terribly bad. I was responsible for Sunrise’s death.”

  He smiled and curled a finger beneath her chin. “You remember his name.”

  “How could I not?” She stamped her foot, and he pulled his finger away. “Oh, I was so angry with you for what you did. When I heard that gunshot, why, I sat right down in the dirt and cried like I’d lost my only friend.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I was madder at myself for letting it happen. I decided then and there I would make sure no other horse got shot over a bad leg again.”

  “It weren’t your fault,” he said. “You were bein’ chased.” He tried to remember that day and frowned when a bit of her bold words came floating out of memory. “Who was after you, anyway?”

  She shrugged. “Some drunk I’d never seen. Came to water his horse at the stream where I was fishing after school. Real nasty rabble, he was. When he tried to get fresh and grab me by the skirts, I slapped him good and took off running. Wasn’t easy escaping him once he got back on his horse, but I stayed ahead of him for a while.” She let out a heavy sigh. “He’d have caught me for sure if I hadn’t run straight into you.”

  “That was the day I first rode into Tanner’s Grove,” he said. “I was barely eighteen, sent to my uncle Jed’s to work on this ranch. He fell on hard times and needed help. The thing with Sunrise slowed me up a spell, of course. And it was stupid of me to leave the horse with his tack on while I walked to Tanner’s Grove for help. It got stole right off the carcass by the time I came back with a wagon and a shovel to bury him.” He curled his lip at the memory.

  “Someone robbed it off him that fast?” she said. “That’s unbelievable.”

  “That was the start of the raids. Thievin’ rode right in on my heels, my uncle said. He died durin’ a raid here that cost a good piece of the rest of his herd. Tyler Ranch still hasn’t recovered.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “Boss.” Jack stood at the entrance to the barn, huffing and looking flustered. “Sheriff just rode up.”

  “What for?”

  Brown eyes flashed. “Not sure, but he’s got that no-account deputy and several others with him. Trouble’s brewin’.”

  William and Kate exchanged grim glances. “Well,” William said, “Sheriff Grande is a busy man. Best not keep him waitin’.”

  They hadn’t made it three steps before a group of men converged on the barn, displacing Jack off to one side along the way. In their midst was Sheriff Angus Grande, one hand riding low on his gun belt and the other tweaking an unruly silver mustache.

  “William Tyler,” he said. “Need to talk to yeh.”

  “Sure thing, Sheriff.” He nodded to Kate. “I trust you know Miss Kate Marsh, the hoss doc. She was just leavin’.”

  She bristled beside him. “Actually, I wasn’t.”

  The sheriff tipped his hat. “Beg pardon, Miss Kate, but I think it’d be best if yeh went on yer way.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not finished examining Mr. Tyler’s animals.”

  “They takin’ sick?”

  “Not if I can help it.”

  William cut off further banter between the pair. “Can I help you, Sheriff?”

  “There was another raid last night, out at the Miller place.”

  “I’ll be,” Jack said from where he stood. “Damn thieves get braver by the month.” He flashed Kate a look. “Pardon my language, ma’am.” He turned back to the others. “Anyone hurt?”

  “Not this time.” Angus paused. “We got a bit of a break on this one. There was a witness.”

  William fisted his hips and nodded. “Good. So did they recognize who done it?”

  “Not exactly. But they recognized his horse.” The sheriff stepped forward, spurs jangling. A ray of light piercing through a knothole in the barn bounced off his star-shaped badge. Two of the other men followed, including Jimmy Smith, his tall, reed-thin deputy. “A ranch hand said it were the same horse he saw at the dance last night. Stood out because of the markings. You rode in on a paint last night, didn’t yeh?” The sheriff glanced over at Windstorm’s stall.

  “Yep. So?”

  “Yer gonna have to come and answer some questions.”

  “What the blazes?” Jack asked.

  Suddenly, the hard expressions on his men’s faces were making an ugly sense. William stiffened. “You don’t think I had somethin’ to do with it?”

  “I’m sorry, Tyler. The witness saw yer horse at the scene.”

  His gangly deputy nodded to several of the men, all of whom now had hands quivering near their holsters. “And some of us seem to recall that the problems with raidin’ came to town right around the same time you did,” he said.

  “That’s bull, and you know it,” Jack said, his eyes narrowed at the deputy.

  “I had nothin’ to do with it,” William added.

  The sheriff grunted and puffed out an already barrel-shaped chest. “I’m gonna have to arrest yeh, son. Don’t make it hard on yerself. Especially not in front of a lady.”

  William felt his gut tighten into a tiny ball. This couldn’t be happening. They assumed he was a thief because someone thought they saw his horse? He had ridden straight home from Kate’s.

  Jack stood fiddling with the hat in his hands, his eyes shifting wildly back and forth between William and the sheriff’s men. A thought hit, and William glanced at Windstorm. The animal had taken lame again suddenly that morning. He hoped they wouldn’t notice the bandages. A lame horse wouldn’t aid the thought that he hadn’t been involved in a wild, hard ride last night.

  Three men came forward, but Kate stepped in front of them, her hands propped on slim hips.

  “You can’t arrest him, Sheriff,” she said, a tinge of desperation in her tone. “It isn’t right.”

  “Miss Kate, yer gonna have to stay out of this,” the man said. “Ain’t none of your concern.”

  “It is when you’re planning to string up the wrong man,” she said. “There’s no way Mr. Tyler here is guilty of thieving.”

  “And I suppose you’ve got proof of that?”

  Kate paused for a moment. “Matter of fact, I do.” She marched up near William while he wondered what in blazes she was up to. “He couldn’t have been part of that raid, you see. He was with me.” He watched her meet every man’s eyes in the barn, except his own. “All night.”

  Jack coughed. William’s mouth fell open. Then he stammered, “No, Kate, don’t. That ain’t so, Sheriff. Don’t listen to her.”

  She whirled on him with a barbed look. “Now, Will, don’t try to protect my honor at a time like this. I’m not worried about my reputation right now.” Her eyes flashed a warning. “I’m more worried about your innocent hide.”

  The men’s wavering expressions still bore skepticism, the sheriff’s most of all. “Miss Marsh, afore you go puttin’ yerself on the line like this, be r
easonable about what yer sayin’.”

  “Reasonable? You’re arresting the wrong man. How reasonable is that?”

  “Ma’am,” he said, patience slipping from his tone, “I don’t mean to doubt yer word, but he might have snuck out while yeh were sleepin’.”

  There were scattered grunts of laughter that silenced when she moved toward him, swaying her hips in a wanton manner William had never seen outside a saloon hall. “Beg pardon, but what gives you the idea he let me get so much as a single wink of sleep?”

  Jack let out a rush of air that sounded forceful enough to knock a man off his feet. Several eyebrows shot high. Jimmy Smith’s eyes looked ready to bug out of his skull.

  “Kate,” William said with a growl. “For lands’ sakes, stop this.”

  “Why? We both know you’re innocent.” She moved over to him and ran her hands over his chest and onto his shoulders, lighting a fire in his skin despite his current predicament. “No use hiding what’s between us just because nosy folks might tongue-wag about me.”

  Before he could argue, her mouth laid claim to his. He stiffened at the feel of her hot lips. Unlike the shy and tentative kiss she’d given him the previous night, this melding was potent and demanding. Neither his disbelief nor the trouble he was in could override the sensation of her tongue prodding his lips apart, or the full breasts pressed against him.

  He gave up trying to fight her deception, ill-conceived though it was. He met the challenge by taking hold of her head in both hands and opening for her, thrusting his tongue into her mouth. Heat seared every inch of his body as his need for her took hold right in front of what amounted to little more than a wide-eyed lynch mob. He felt Kate freeze in what was no doubt surprise, but he muffled her small gasp of shock with a more pronounced groan of his own.

  The sheriff cleared his throat loudly to break up the display. Kate pulled back, sliding a quick, dazed glance at William that betrayed for a moment the fact that this had been their first real kiss. Then the mask of a worldly woman slid into place again, and she turned to the other men.

  “You’ll let him go, I trust?” she asked.

  Most of the men were gazing at her with very male expressions that William didn’t particularly care for. Why the devil was she doing this? Surely she didn’t feel she owed him because he’d had to put his horse down five years ago?