“Ma’am,” the horse wrangler stammered, “you aren’t really going to go out and hunt cattle . . . ?”
“It’s my ranch,” she said haughtily. “Of course I’m going to!”
She had him saddle the horse and then she stood next to it, grinding her teeth, while she wondered how she was going to get into the saddle. It had been years since she’d ridden.
“Uh, ma’am, there’s a mounting block,” the younger of two cowboys pointed to it, just at the edge of the barn.
“Thanks,” she said tautly.
She led the horse over to the block, stepped up on it, and sprang into the saddle. “Well,” she said to herself. “That wasn’t too bad . . .”
Just as she said it, her hands jerked on the bridle and the horse reared up and ran away with her.
She heard a shout behind her and then the sound of horse’s hooves thundering in the snow. At least they were going to try to save her. She caught the horse’s mane and tightened her legs around his sides, holding on for dear life. Her father had said something about runaway horses, but all she could remember was to hang on and don’t get thrown.
She tried to guide the horse with her legs, but he was unsettled and unresponsive. She hoped he wasn’t going to run her under a low limb and get her killed. She kept her head down and prayed for him to stop.
Horses’ hooves sounded closer. A minute later, the horse was being forcibly slowed, and a firm deep voice called to him, calming him as he came to a stop, finally, and stood panting for breath.
“Are you all right?” Dal Blake asked, riding his horse up to hers, but in the opposite direction. “Meadow?”
Funny, he actually sounded concerned. She was trying to get her own breath. “Yes. Thanks,” she panted.
“What happened?”
She grimaced as she forced her eyes up to his. “I jerked the reins when I mounted him.”
“Her,” he corrected with forced patience. “She’s a mare.”
She glared at him.
He reached down and got the reins, handing them back to her. “Follow me back to the ranch. I’m not leaving you here. And she’ll need to be put up.”
She wanted to argue, but she felt sorry for the horse. “All right.”
His eyebrows arched. “My God, are you actually agreeing with me?”
“It won’t set a precedent,” she muttered.
“No doubt there. Come on. Catch up.”
She followed him back to the ranch, where two cowboys stood waiting for her. She coaxed the poor horse to the mounting block, where she painstakingly dismounted. Her legs felt sore and bruised just from the short ride. She began to see that she wasn’t going to be able to just go out and get in the saddle and ride all day without some preliminary rides to adjust to the horse.
She grimaced as she got to the ground, leaving one of the cowboys to lead the animal back into the barn and take care of it.
* * *
Dal glanced at the older cowboy who’d helped her get the horse saddled. “Ted, you’d better get the men out to check on the cattle. You can’t afford to start losing calves.”
“I was going to bring the pregnant mamas closer to the barn,” Ted told him. “We’re short a couple of hands today. That damned flu laid them up.”
“I’ll send a couple of my men over to help.” He noted Meadow’s open mouth. “It’s what we do out here in the wild,” he said before she could speak. “We help each other. Neighbors do that.”
She closed her mouth and bit back a short reply. “Okay. Thanks,” she added as an afterthought.
He tipped his hat. “You’re welcome.” He stared at her. “Jeff said he’s taking you to dinner again tonight.”
She flushed. “Yes. To the new steak place.”