“Fine. Let’s keep it that way.”
“Are you going to see Jasper on the way back?” Sky changed the subject.
“Of course I am,” Beau growled. “You and Will don’t have to remind me of every little thing.”
Sky drove on in silence. Both men were saddle sore, hungry, sleep deprived, and on the ragged edge of snapping. But they made it to the house without an all-out clash. Sky let Beau off by the porch and drove around to his own quarters out back. Once they’d had a chance to rest and clean up, things would be all right between them, Sky knew. But anxiety over the drought was eating away at everyone on the ranch. And the blazing afternoon sun promised nothing but more of the same.
Jasper, at least, was doing better and would soon be coming home. Sky was counting the days. If ever there was a time when the ranch could use Jasper’s salty wisdom, experience, and gentle humor, it was now.
Sky showered, dressed, and washed down a turkey sandwich with a cold beer. There wasn’t enough time to go to town today, but if he got right to it, he could work with the colts for several hours.
Twenty minutes later, he was in the corral, saddling a two-year-old gray gelding, when he heard Beau’s Jeep peel out of the yard and head down the long gravel lane toward the main road. Even without looking, he could tell that Beau’s mood hadn’t changed. As Jasper might have put it, dealing with bankers was like dealing with coyotes. They were quick to take advantage of a weakness, and any rancher with his back against the wall was fair game. Will had sent Beau in early to negotiate a possible loan before it was needed so they could get better terms. It was a wise move, but Sky could understand Beau’s annoyance at being treated like an errand boy—just as he understood that Will had been too preoccupied to make sure Beau was involved in the plan.
Sky eased into the saddle, lowering the brim of his Stetson to shade his eyes from the burning sun. The dwindling money, the hungry cattle, the flaring tempers—a good spell of rain would wash away all those troubles. But the heat-seared land was dying, and the heavens were merciless.
The dappled gray gelding—named Quicksilver by Erin—was a small horse with an elegant head that showed his Arabian blood. Smart as a fox and agile as a cat, Quicksilver had the makings of an ideal cow pony. Sky had singled him out for extra training in the hope of getting a premium price. Today he’d decided to introduce backing and turning, an essential maneuver for working a cow. The sharp little horse responded to the pressure of Sky’s knees and the slight shifts in his weight, performing the moves as if they’d come naturally. Some lucky buyer was going to get their money’s worth out of this boy.
Sky was paying no attention to anything going on outside the corral. A shrill whinny from the direction of the house shattered his concentration. He looked up to see a spectacular black horse dancing across the yard toward him, battling its rider all the way.
Sky swore out loud.
Clinging to the saddle, fighting for control of the reins, was Lauren.
With Quicksilver distracted by the newcomer, there was no way the training could go on. Taking his time, Sky freed the colt from the saddle and bridle and loosed him into the paddock. Emotions warred as he walked slowly back to the corral fence. Lauren Prescott was nothing but trouble in high-heeled boots. So why was he so damned glad to see the leggy, red-haired hellion?
More to the point, what was she doing to that poor horse?
CHAPTER 6
Battling the reins, Lauren managed to pull up short of the log fence. The Prescott cowhands had warned her not to ride the tall black gelding they called Storm Cloud. He had a rebellious streak and a tendency to nip and rear. He was nothing but trouble, they’d told her. Only a strong man could control a horse like that.
Which was exactly why Lauren had chosen him.
It had been all she could do, getting Storm Cloud the six-mile distance from the Prescott Ranch. He’d fought her every step of the way, shying at the wind in the brush, sometimes rearing, sometimes balking or fighting the bit with his tossing head. If Lauren had been a less experienced rider, or a less determined one, she might have been thrown.
There’d been moments when she’d been ready to give up and abandon this crazy idea. But she’d stuck it out, and here she was—sweaty, dusty, sore, and windblown, but still in the saddle, bracing herself for the most challenging moment of all.
Sky was at the fence—glaring up at her as if he’d caught her beating the wretched animal with a whip. So far this didn’t look good.
“What in hell’s name do you think you’re doing?” he demanded.
“I’m trying to ride this horse,” Lauren said. “And since I brought him all the way here to ask for your help, the least you can do is be civil.”
He shook his head, his breath easing out in a long exhalation.
“I can pay you,” Lauren said. “I’ll pay as much as you want.”
“I don’t need your money, Lauren.” His low, flat voice was more withering than if he’d shouted at her. “I don’t have much time to spare, but I’ll do what I can—not so much for you as for this poor horse. Look at him, he’s overheated and scared half to death.”
“Scared? This brute? Now, that’s hard to believe.”
He swung over the corral fence in one easy motion. “Horses in the wild are prey. Fear helps keep them alive. It’s part of their nature to be scared. You can climb down. I’ve got him.”
Gripping the bridle with one hand, he stroked the horse’s damp neck, murmuring words Lauren couldn’t understand—Comanche perhaps. She felt Storm Cloud’s taut body begin to relax. Swinging her leg cautiously over his hindquarters, she slid to the welcoming earth. The last time she’d ridden had been in her teens, when she’d competed in dressage with her grandfather’s gaited American saddle horses. She remembered the basics, but her thigh muscles were screaming.
You know where to find me.
It had been a gamble on her part, choosing a difficult horse so she could ask Sky for help. There was something aching and restless in her that yearned to see him again and take a chance on what might happen. But after what he’d said to her before he walked out of the ranch office, she had too much pride to simply show up and say, Here I am.