Texas Tough (The Tylers of Texas 2)

“What do you know about his history?”

“Not much. The foreman told me he wasn’t raised on the ranch. One of the syndicate men brought him in last year. He’d bought the horse for his wife, but things hadn’t worked out.”

“With the horse or with the wife?”

Lauren’s laugh was deep and real—a sexy laugh, not a ladylike giggle. “I’m not sure. But could that explain why he hates my perfume?”

“Maybe. That, or he just plain doesn’t like the smell. If you’re bound and determined to ride this horse—”

He broke off as a jackrabbit exploded out of the mesquite, almost under the gelding’s hooves. Storm Cloud squealed and reared.

“Easy, boy . . . . That’s it.” Sky soothed the quivering horse, keeping firm control as the rabbit streaked away. “As I was about to say, if you’re determined to ride this horse, I’d like to keep him here for a week or two, keep an eye on him, ride him a little and see how he does. When you’re helping Beau in the office, you can come out afterward, and I’ll work with both of you.”

“Is this a bribe to get me working on Beau’s spreadsheet again?” Mischief danced in her copper-flecked eyes. They’d be tempting fate, and they both knew it. Alone together, there’d be no way they could keep their hands off each other for long.

“Beau really does need your help,” Sky said. “He thinks you’ve stayed away because of me. We had a few words over it today. Sorry, but this drought’s got everybody on edge.”

“My staying away had nothing to do with you. It’s just that I’ve been busy.”

“So you’ll come back?”

“I’ve meant to come back all along.”

“And the horse?”

“I’m with you. He deserves better than to be so miserable. Do whatever you can for him, and I’ll give Beau some free hours in exchange.”

“You don’t have to do that.” But it would please Beau, Sky thought. Given the ranch’s limited cash flow, even that small saving would help.

“Please let me. I took the job for the experience, not for the money. And it’s a great excuse to get away from my father.”

Yes, her father. Sky had actually begun to like the woman before she reminded him whose daughter she was. Garn Prescott was everything that gave politicians a bad name—two-faced, double dealing, and greedy. At least his late father, Bull’s archenemy Ferg Prescott, had been up-front with his meanness. But Ferg’s congressman son hid everything behind a genial mask.

How did Jasper put it? Trust a rattler before you trust a Prescott. Wise words, Sky knew. But kissing Lauren by the corral had lit a bonfire inside him. He wanted her—any time, any place he could get into those damned two-hundred-dollar jeans of hers.

But having her would mean walking a fine line—maybe even a dangerous line.

They were almost there before Sky realized where he was taking her. Without conscious thought, he’d been headed toward the southeast boundary of the ranch—and the hundred acres Bull had left him in his will.

Torn by conflict over his father’s motives, Sky had avoided coming here. But he’d seen and admired the place before without knowing it was to be his. It was a choice piece of land, rolling, wooded in spots, and watered by a deep spring—perfect for horses.

Even now, as they crossed the boundary, something resisted in him. It would serve his pride to sell the land and donate the money to the ranch. He didn’t need it. And he didn’t want a guilt offering from the man who’d left his mother pregnant and alone. If he saw the land, if he rode across it, he might begin to think of it as his—and he wasn’t ready for that.

But something in him had wanted to see the place again; and being here with Lauren made it easier. He wouldn’t tell her about the land, of course. He didn’t plan to tell anybody until he’d made a final decision. For now, at least, her company kept the darkness from his thoughts.

They talked about safe things. She told him about growing up in Maryland and competing in dressage. He explained the fine points of riding a Western cow horse. Heat lay like a blanket on the land. Insects droned in the long grass. The horses had slowed to a plodding pace. Even Storm Cloud was too hot to misbehave.

A bead of sweat trickled like a liquid jewel down her cheek. Sky checked the impulse to reach out and brush it away with his fingertip. With Lauren, one thing was apt to lead to another. Maybe it was time they turned around, before they found themselves in trouble.

“There’s a spring here somewhere,” he said. “We’ll water the horses and then head back. If you want to leave Storm Cloud with me, I’ll stable him and drive you home in the pickup.”

“Fine.” Lifting her hat, she raked her fingers through her coppery hair, holding it off the back of her neck. The motion tugged her thin shirt against her breasts. “I don’t think he’s up to a ride home in this heat. I know I’m not. Tell Beau I’ll be back tomorrow to work on the spreadsheet.”

Sky willed himself to ignore the tightening of his body. “I can hear the spring. It should be just beyond that clump of mesquite.” He swung the gelding toward the sound. The mare foll

owed without any urging.

The spot where the cold spring formed a shallow pool was overgrown with watercress and ringed with moisture-sucking tamarisk bushes, which would need digging out if the water was to be of much use—but what was he thinking? Why make plans for a property he didn’t plan to keep?