Rawhide and Roses (2 page)

Not supposed to let the horse eat.

Panicking, Kim jerked on the reins. The horse didn’t budge. “Damn. Damn-damn-damn Rosie. Don’t get hungry on me now.”

Jillie’s head disappeared over the mountainside.

Rosie still chomped.

Kim froze.

“Shit!”

After a moment, she sucked in a breath of courage and pulled on the reins. Hard. Rosie strained against her hands and pulled more grass into her mouth.

“C’mon, honey,” Kim sweet-talked. “We’ve got to get going, sugar. We don’t wanna get lost up here.”

When her cooing didn’t help, she gave one more solid jerk on the reins and Rosie’s head came up. Kim pressed her knees slightly into the horse’s sides, and pulled the reins harder. Rosie started moving—but in reverse!

Panicking at the horse’s faulty back-stepping up the mountain, Kim let her hands fall to the saddle horn, just to get a tighter grip. The sudden stopping of the horse’s backward movement jarred her for just a second, until the horse moved again—forward, and with a mite more speed than Kim wanted—searching for a tail to put her nose into. The panoramic view of the valley below, that she had so leisurely perused moments earlier, now whisked by in a blur as Rosie took off like a shot and galloped over the hill.

“Oh, freakin’ hell!”

She knew she was in trouble. Then she didn’t have time to think about it.

“Ro-sie...slow...down!”

Her brain whirred.

Pull on the reins! Pull! Pull on them!

The words banged around inside her skull as she flew down the
Rocky
Mountain
terrain at what seemed the speed of light.

Pull on the stupid reins? Where in the hell are they?

As a stand of trees flew by, she risked a glance to her hands wound tight around the saddle horn, the reins woven through her fingers, her ten perfectly manicured fingernails digging into her palms. Painfully. She couldn’t move. Rosie descended at a pretty fast clip.

Everything around her seemed contradictory, like silent slow motion and fast-forward, all at the same time. By now everyone in the string of horses in front of her had stopped at the sound of her screams. Someone raced up the mountain toward her, shouting. She couldn’t tell who, or what. She didn’t give a damn. All she knew how to do was hold on for dear life and pray she made it to the end of the string. Intact. She felt like flopping fish holding onto a bucking bronco—and knew it wasn’t pretty.

And when this thing was through, she was going to kill Jillie Abernathy for bringing her to this godforsaken
Colorado
backwoods. Even if she was her best friend.

Kim fought back a funny clutching at her throat. Huffing out one thick breath after another, she suddenly felt dizzy...and a little nauseous. She wasn’t going to make it.

“Lean back in your saddle!” someone shouted. “And hold on!”

Only—a—few—more—feet.

Good old Rosie…she headed straight for Muffin’s tail. Abruptly, the horse met her mark.

Unfortunately, Kim didn’t.

In a blur, she rolled over the horse’s neck and landed in an unflattering position on her fanny at Rosie’s front hooves with a “Humph!”

Hooves?

Or were they...boots?

Dazed, Kim shook her head, then looked again.

Boots. Definitely boots.

The toes of a pair of dirty brown boots were the first thing she saw after the dust clouds subsided and she’d rid her brain of the haze and fuzz. Or most of it, anyway.

Faded denims, slightly raveled and worn at the hem, fit tight over the dusty boots. Her gaze traveling upward found the Wrangler’s stretched over firm, muscular thighs. A braided leather belt with a dull silver and turquoise buckle wove through the waistband of his jeans. He wore a denim western-cut shirt with pearl snaps. His hands were balled into fists and parked on either hip. The cuffs of his shirt were rolled back to reveal wisps of dark hair on tanned skin.

She gulped. A strange, sinking sensation yanked at the pit of her stomach.

Squinting, she brought her hand up to shield her eyes, and searched for his face. The sun glared behind him, reflecting off the clear blue of the afternoon, so all she saw was a dark shadow framed by a black cowboy hat.

And all she heard was the deep resonance of his voice as it bounced across mountain and valley.

“What in the
hell
did you do to my horse!”

His horse? What did your precious horse do to me?

Kim jumped to her feet.

The last coherent thought she had then, before the bright lights sparked and the blackness claimed her, was that Cowboy Thad seemed a mite upset.

****

Thad Winchester knew, as soon as he’d set eyes on the pert blonde trying to get a foot-hold up on old Rosie, that this was going to be a long afternoon. He knew it because he and Mack had seen it all before. It was the reason why he was about to insist that they concentrate only on pack trips from now on. Then they could specify that experienced riders only were allowed on the trips.

Then he wouldn’t have to deal with the cute little vacationers who thought it was such a hoot to ogle the cowboys and play Annie Oakley for the afternoon.

He knew he shouldn’t be that way. When Mack had suggested they open up the ranch for trail rides and pack trips, at first Thad had balked at the idea. He was a rancher, pure and simple. His father had never resorted to other means to make a living, why should he? But times had changed and today, a rancher had to do what a rancher had to do to keep the wolf from the door. And since cattle prices were down and the
Durango
area pulled in a lot of tourist trade these days, well, he’d finally researched the idea and had found that with a little elbow grease and some planning, they might be able to develop a lucrative business on the side.

But it had turned into more than that. They had been turning quite a profit. In turn, Thad was becoming quite the businessman. And after three years, he took that business quite seriously.

That’s why he hated to see inexperienced riders on his horses. And why in the hell they decided to lie, make it appear they had more experience in the saddle than they had, he’d never know. Didn’t they realize that they were only making things difficult for themselves?

And everyone else.

Like the blonde. He’d heard her tell Mack that she used to ride when she was younger. Having your daddy lead you around on a pony twice a year does not constitute having ridden horses. And Mack, he was going to have to have another talk with him. He was so damned gullible when it came to a pretty face. He took their every word to heart.

So he’d put the cute blonde on Rosie. Rosie was a big horse, too big for the barely five foot and two-by-nothin’ woman, and used to someone who at least knew how to handle the reins.

He’d known there would be trouble from the git-go. And now, here he was, staring down at trouble like she owned the place.

Chapter Two

“Kim! Wake up!”

Someone shook her shoulder. Jillie? Oh, why didn’t she just leave her the heck alone and let her sleep until this nightmare was over?

She raised a hand to her face and tried to rub away the cobwebs. Had she passed out there for a moment? The last thing she remembered was arcing over Rosie’s head like Olympic gymnast Shawn Johnson vaulting over a pommel horse.

No, that wasn’t the last thing she remembered.

Her eyes fluttered open. A jet black, hooded gaze stared back. Simultaneously, her brain and body jerked into alert mode.

Kim jumped to her feet again, angry that she’d let herself in for this kind of humiliation.

“Sit down.” Large hands forced her back to the ground. Before she knew it, those hands were expertly groping over each of her legs, sliding up and down as if in search of something.

Jerking back, she kicked away from him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” He caught one tennis-shoed foot in his hand to halt her kicking. “Get away from me.”

He crouched beside her. “No broken bones there, that’s for sure, what about your arms?” he asked gruffly, then released her foot. Kim drew her legs beneath her.

“My arms are fine. Stop!” She wasn’t hurt and she wanted him gone. Someone in the crowd snickered as the last shred of her dignity was stripped away at his manhandling.

“Let me see.”

Roughly, he grasped one upper arm and pulled it out straight. His callused hands ran up and down her smooth skin to the point where her t-shirt sleeve began. Then he inspected the other. “I think you’re okay. What about your head?”

“I’m fine.” she rubbed her forehead. “Just a little bump.” Kim figured she’d passed out more from hyperventilating while speeding down the mountain than anything. She hadn’t hit her head that hard, if at all. She did remember huffing out huge breaths on her quick descent. “It’s this damn thin air up here.”

“Then what about your backside?”

Heat hit her face. Kim stood and brushed the dust from her aforementioned backside. “I’m fine. My backside is fine. Thank you very much. Now, let’s get this show on the road.”

For the first time, she connected with his eyes. Dark, almost black eyes, narrowed by the sun, glinted back at her like impenetrable steel. Thick dark eyebrows covered those eyes, only adding to the brooding quality he emitted. A thick swipe of whiskers hung over his upper lip. Under his hat, his short black hair was laced with a few silver streaks at the temples and over his ears. His tanned face held a fine, weathered look.

She swallowed. This indeed, was a cowboy.

“Then get back up on your horse and ride.” He took a brusque step away.

“No thanks. I’ll lead her.”

Thad jerked back and glared. “Don’t think so.”

Garnering strength, and realizing she was probably pretty stupid to challenge the man, she grasped Rosie’s reins and took a step forward. “You’re crazy if you think I’m getting back on that horse.”

His gaze narrowed more. He snorted then grabbed the reins out of her hands. “Like hell! Get back on that mare and ride. Give me your foot.”

Kim narrowed her own eyes. “I will not.”

His boots toed her tennis shoes. “Let me put it this way, Missy. Picture yourself on the gravity side of a thousand pounds of horseflesh and you’ll change your mind soon enough. Now get on that horse. I’ve got a schedule to keep.”

Missy? Why, of all the….

She had half a notion to stomp down the mountain all by herself, to hell with the horses and the riders and the cowboys and even Jillie...then she thought about what he’d said. She glanced at Rosie, then down the mountain. They had a ways to go and it was pretty steep drop. Slowly, she turned to Thad Winchester.

She so didn’t want to do this.

“All. Right. Just keep everyone out of my way. If Rosie starts going like that again, I’m taking her straight to the corral.”

Thad brought his right hand to his chin to cover his mouth. Was that a smirk? Then he rubbed it across his mouth as if in contemplation—which only flustered her more. All of a sudden, the temperature spiked. Was he
laughing
at her?

Jillie, having dismounted her horse, elbowed Kim. “C’mon, follow me. Get on the horse, okay?” She watched her gaze pass from Thad to Mack and then back to her.

“Fine. Just keep your horse in front of me,” she snapped, not too happy with Jillie, either, at this moment.

“All right. Come on.”

Kim jerked the reins out of Thad’s hands and turned toward her horse. She stretched to put her left foot in the stirrup. As soon as she made contact, she jumped, then once again felt a heavy hand to her rear. It was almost a slap! This time she whirled her body expertly into the saddle, turned, and riveted her gaze at the man standing beside her. Some chuckles went up from the crowd. She felt the tiny pulsing vein in her neck begin to throb, and the flush of her skin start there and travel upward to her cheeks.

She met his gaze and held. “I don’t think I’d try that again, Buster. Understand?”

Thad braced his stance and stared back. Not a muscle in his face flinched. “Perfectly.”

Horse’s ass
.

Kim watched him stride to the front of the line, mount a beautiful buckskin, and without a backward glance, start the procession. Gritting her teeth, she clutched the reins, and kept her gaze glued to the back of Thad Winchester’s body all the way. She couldn’t help it.

She hadn’t paid one bit of attention to where Rosie had her nose.

****

Kim threw her leg over Rosie’s back, then slid off the horse. Every muscle in her backside was tight, and her inner thighs screamed at each attempt to put her body back into a normal standing position. She stepped closer to Jillie, watching as she smoothed her hand over Muffin’s neck and down the coarse hairs around her bridle. She nickered and turned to lead her away, placing a quick kiss on the horse’s jowl.

Kim grimaced.

“Guess we need to take Muffin and Rosie to the barn.” Jillie turned and looked at Kim.