Free Boots and Leather: Ugly Stick Saloon, Book 2 by Myla Jackson

interesting.”
    Libby’s eyes were hidden by the sunglasses so Luke didn’t have a hint as to what she was thinking, but a smile quirked the corners of her lips. “Speaking of sharing…I meant to ask the other night…was Audrey one of the women you shared?”
    Broadsided by her question. Luke exchanged a look with Mark and then winked at Libby. “We don’t kiss and tell.”
    Mark ducked his head, a smile sliding across his face.
    For a long moment Libby remained seated on the motorcycle, her gaze running from Luke to Mark.
    Luke swung up in his saddle and turned his horse around to face Libby, more nervous than he cared to admit, waiting for Libby to commit to coming, while thinking of ways to keep her from driving off should she decide not to. “Since you said you ride, I assume you know one end of the horse from the other. You know how to mount?”
    Libby sucked in a deep breath and let it out, then swung her leg over the bike seat. “I do.” She laid her helmet on the back of the motorcycle, removed her sunglasses, tucking them into the helmet, and then walked toward him.
    The knot in Luke’s gut loosened and he fought to keep from smiling.
    “Want me to give you a leg up?” Mark brought forward the bay mare they’d selected for Libby to ride.
    “No thanks. I like doing things on my own,” she said, her voice edgy.
    Mark handed her the reins. “This is Jezebel, one of the mares we use for breeding stock. She’s a good, solid ride, no surprises.”
    “She’s beautiful.” Libby smoothed her hand over the animal, lifting the stirrup to check the tightness of the girth. Then she slipped the reins over the mare’s neck and patted her flanks, speaking soothingly as she placed her black boot into the left stirrup and floated up into the saddle like it was second nature to her. She sat tall, her back poker straight, the reins in separate hands like someone used to riding English-style.
    “’Round here, we ride western-style—reins together.” Luke held up his reins in one hand. “Jezebel responds to the lightest movement of the straps over her neck.”
    Placing both reins in one hand, Libby tugged the pair to the left. Jezebel turned left. She performed the same instruction going right, then nodded to Luke. “Ready?”
    “Ready,” he answered and led off at a walk.
    Mark unlatched the gate for them, opening out into the pasture stretching to the west across pastures of second-growth new hay only a foot deep and as green as an emerald blanket.
    Luke led the way through, waiting for Libby and Mark to come abreast.
    Then he set the pace at an easy, smooth canter, suddenly anxious to show Libby what he and his brother had been working on. He hoped she liked it.
    The sun shone down from a bright, summer sky filled with puffy white clouds. The land stretched before them over rolling hills. As they rode to the top of each rise, they could see all around, not a house, person or car in sight besides the three of them. Luke and Mark had chosen the location of their project because it was far off the beaten path. Sure, they could drive in from the road, and they did when they had to bring in lumber and supplies, but Luke had wanted to take the horses to show Libby that riding horses could be just as open and free as riding the open road on a motorcycle. Even more so.
    They rode in silence, down into green valleys, wading through sparkling brooks and up over the tops of ridges. When they came to the grasslands surrounding a particularly tall hill, Luke glanced over at Libby. “Up for a little race?”
    Her eyes narrowed. “Question is, are you?”
    He nodded. “To the top of the hill.”
    Before the last word left Luke’s lips, Libby dug her heels into the mare’s flanks. The horse leaped forward, galloping across a wide swath of lush green grass.
    Mark, riding Diablo, the black stallion who’d sired many of the horses the ranch was known for, took the lead, the horse's long neck stretching