Mustang Wild. Stacey Kayne

first time he’d watched Skylar’s body slap against the unforgivably hard earth, his initial reaction had been to make sure she was all right. Before he could dismount, she’d jumped to her feet, dusted herself off and marched toward the mustang with a determination Tucker couldn’t help but admire.

      Hang on, darlin’, he thought as the spotted mare dipped her head, digging her front hooves into the ground and whipping Skylar to another sharp stop. To Tucker’s surprise, the mare didn’t kick and thrash, but stood stock-still. Skylar appeared relaxed, her eyes narrow with concentration as she dug her boots into the stirrups and tightened her hold on the reins, preparing for another round of bucking.

      The woman was amazing. She seemed to be able to predict the horse’s movements. And her voice… Tucker damn near melted off his mount every time she used that soft, sensual voice of hers to calm the mares.

      As if cued by his thoughts, Skylar began talking softly to the mare, attempting to reason with a creature that had proven to be as strong-willed as she was.

      Tucker’s muscles tensed as her sultry tone grated over his skin and curled around his senses. Needing a distraction, he glanced out at the wide streamers of pink streaking across the western sky, and doubted Skylar had even noticed the blush of sunset, her sole focus being the wild horse.

      “Skylar,” Tucker said when she was quiet once more. “You’ve got to be exhausted. What do you say we call it day?”

      “I’d like to ride her back to the ranch.” Her frown deepened. “But what I’d like don’t count for spit, or I’d be chin deep in a long tub filled with sudsy, warm water.”

      Tucker chuckled. That had been another surprise. Though it was as dry as the desert floor, Skylar had a sense of humor, and she wasn’t as impossible to work with as he’d feared. In fact, they’d worked really smoothly together all day. Of course, the only time she seemed aware of his presence was when they switched mounts, and even then, their verbal exchange was minimal, each knowing what needed to be done without prompting from the other.

      “Suppose I should be happy she’s letting me sit up here without trying to get me under her hooves,” she said with a heavy sigh.

      She clearly wasn’t happy with the progress she’d made with this particular mare. The horse had only one direction in mind, and that was toward the setting sun. Skylar had managed to work her in circles, but they’d been steadily moving west for the last hour despite Skylar’s efforts to urge the horse in the opposite direction.

      Tucker rode slowly toward her. “Put the lead back on her and you can stay in that saddle while I drag her back to the ranch. Perhaps after we walk her through the routine, she’ll catch on.”

      Skylar did as he suggested and tossed him the rope.

      When they reached the yard, Tucker dismounted and grabbed the mare by her harness. “I’ll take her,” he said as Skylar stepped down from her saddle.

      “She’ll be the first to go out in the morning.”

      “You got it, boss lady,” Tucker said as he led the horse toward the corral.

      A short while later he walked from the stable after finishing with the horses. He spotted Skylar leaning against the small single corral on the opposite side of the stable from the mares, where he was keeping one rowdy white stallion. Tucker had eaten quite a bit of dirt and sand trying to gentle that stud. “I hope you’re not planning to tackle him before supper,” he said, coming up behind her.

      Skylar glanced back, surprising him with a slight smile.

      “Nope. He’s all yours.”

      “Your face is starting to sunburn,” he said, noticing how her relaxed expression enhanced the delicate features of her pretty face.

      Skylar blinked, appearing confused by his comment. “What?”

      “Your face, it’s sunburned.”

      She dropped her gaze, clearly perturbed by the offhanded comment. “I’ll borrow Garret’s hat for a while tomorrow.”

      “You don’t have one of your own?”

      “I lost it the night we were ambushed.”

      “I’ll have Chance pick one up for you when he goes for supplies in the morning.”

      “I don’t want any favors from you, Morgan,” she said, eyeing him skeptically. “I only want to get to Wyoming.” She turned away from the fence and started toward the barn.

      “Chance,” she said as she passed his brother, who’d been walking toward them.

      “Sky,” he greeted in return, touching his fingers to the brim of his hat, but she didn’t pause for pleasantries. She marched her tight little butt right past him and into the barn.

      “Your wife sure don’t like you a’tall,” Chance said as he followed Tucker toward the cabin.

      “So I keep being reminded. She keeps working miracles with those horses and she can cuss me clear to Wyoming.”

      “Amen to that,” Chance agreed.

      “Where’s the kid?” Tucker asked, glancing about the yard.

      “He headed in a little while ago to check on supper.”

      Tucker stopped in his tracks. “Who fixed our supper, you or him?”

      “The kid. Stewed meat and potatoes again.”

      Tucker groaned. “If he cooks like his sister, we’ll be better off heading to the stable and eating oats with the horses.”

      “Don’t worry. I hid the salt. And I thought our cooking was lousy.”

      “It is,” Tucker said as they reached the cabin. “But there’s a hell of a difference between lousy and plain inedible.”

      While Tucker and Chance washed up, Garret set four places at the small table and began serving stew into the bowls.

      “Go get your sister,” Chance said as he sat down at the table. Garret set the pot of stew back on the stove then hurried out to fetch Skylar.

      With only two rickety old chairs in the cabin, Tucker grabbed an empty crate from the floor and flipped it up on its side, placing it before an open spot at the table. “How’d things go with you and Garret today?” he asked, taking his makeshift seat.

      “The kid talks too damn much. But other than that, he’s just like his sister. He doesn’t have any quit in him. You and Sky seemed to do all right.”

      Tucker reached toward a box of matches at the center of the table beside the kerosene lantern. Removing the glass globe, he lit the wick, spilling golden light across the darkening room.

      “Only because she was too busy with the horses to hiss and spit at me.”

      “Then you bes’ keep her busy, because we need her.”

      Tucker agreed, but hadn’t expected Chance to come right out and say so. “Glad to hear your approval. As of this morning, she and Garret are on the payroll. Skylar needs a hat. See that you pick one up for her when you get our supplies.”

      “Fair enough. I’ll put it in the ledger. I wish they’d hurry up,” he said with a scowl, glancing at the door. “I’m half-starved.”

      Tucker’s stomach grumbled as he looked at the bowl of steaming meat and potatoes in front of him. “You and Garret ate something at noon, didn’t you?”

      “Apples and dried beef don’t fill a man’s gut.”

      Tucker nodded an agreement, having inhaled the same dinner in between saddling horses.

      Both glanced up as the door squeaked open.

      “Sky won’t be comin’ in for supper.”

      “Why not?” Tucker and Chance asked simultaneously.