Free A Cowboy Worth Claiming by Charlene Sands Page A

on her, most likely.
    Lizzie ate some dust this morning, riding drag behind the herd first. Most times, the Mitchells gave the job of riding in back of the herd and catching the most dust to the greenhorn in the crew, the one with the least experience or the one who had hired on last. But Lizzie knew Chance had given her the easier morning shift of riding drag. They’d be shifting out after the noon meal where she and Chance would trade positions. She’d ride point and swing while Chance took the brunt of windstorms that kicked up a fuss in the afternoons.
    She thought to argue with him, to let him know she could handle anything the trail offered up. She could do the job any of the crew could do without complaint and whining. She sought to make her point, but Chance cast her a stern, I’m-the-trail-boss look when he issued the order and then rode off on Joyful, just like that, without a look back.
    One of Lizzie’s jobs was to tally the herd, making sure they wound up with the same amount of cattle at the end of the trail as they started out with. They had exactly thirty-one heads and she’d already counted them three times, just because there wasn’t much else to do but prod the lazier cattle at the back to keep them from slowing everything down.
    Her stomach grumbled. And then it grumbled again. She was being punished, to be sure, for not eating a hearty meal this morning. Ten minutes later and none too soon by her accounts, Chance doubled back to take a place next to her. “We’ll stop in half an hour for lunch.”
    Half an hour?
    Lizzie’s stomach protested noisily and she wondered if Chance heard the unholy sounds coming from her empty belly. If he did, he didn’t say a word or make a gesture to indicate it.
    Lifting his face to the sun, he squinted, leaning forward on the saddle to glance at the herd before him. “We’re making good time today. The weather’s holding.”
    “I suppose.”
    Her stomach rebelled as soon as she uttered the words, and Chance met her gaze.
    “Anything wrong?”
    “Uh…no. Nothing’s wrong.”
    “Fine, then. Check for my signal to stop.”
    She sent him a quick nod. Chance tipped the brim of his hat lower on his forehead and right before he rode off, she could’ve sworn she’d seen a big ole smirk on his face.
    The half hour moved at a snail’s pace. With the herd settled, Lizzie and Chance found a mesquite tree nearby and rode the few yards there together. Chance dismounted his mare with usual grace and Lizzie slid down from Surefoot, hanging on to the saddle horn until her boots hit the ground. Riding a smaller horse made it much easier for her to mount and dismount and she was forever grateful that she didn’t need Chance’s assistance anymore.
    Chance tossed a blanket on the ground and Lizzie helped him spread it out. She prayed her stomach would stop complaining. But there was just no controlling some things.
    “How you holding up, Lizzie?” he asked as he brought over a sack of food.
    Her stomach growled.
    Chance grinned.
    “I’m hungry, Chance.”
    “Oh, and here I thought you were serenading the herd earlier. Could barely hear my own thoughts with all the noise you were making.”
    She sent him a frown and plopped down onto the blanket. “You’re not amusing.” She pointed to the sack. “What’s in there?”
    “In here?” he asked with the innocence of a young boy.
    He stood by the blanket. She squinted to see his face. “Yes, in there.”
    Chance lifted both arms overhead, the sack still in his hand. He joined them together and pulled both arms back behind his head in a slow easy stretch, keeping the sack of food out of her reach. If Lizzie wasn’t so darn hungry, she might have enjoyed watching him move like that. She might have fastened her gaze on the muscles that worked in his forearms and reveled in his sheer strength and power. He was all man, and Lizzie didn’t like that she’d been noticing, more and more. Because he annoyed her, just for