Free Texas Tough by Janet Dailey Page B

nothing but trouble, they’d told her. Only a strong man could control a horse like that.
    Which was exactly why Lauren had chosen him.
    It had been all she could do, getting Storm Cloud the six-mile distance from the Prescott Ranch. He’d fought her every step of the way, shying at the wind in the brush, sometimes rearing, sometimes balking or fighting the bit with his tossing head. If Lauren had been a less experienced rider, or a less determined one, she might have been thrown.
    There’d been moments when she’d been ready to give up and abandon this crazy idea. But she’d stuck it out, and here she was—sweaty, dusty, sore, and windblown, but still in the saddle, bracing herself for the most challenging moment of all.
    Sky was at the fence—glaring up at her as if he’d caught her beating the wretched animal with a whip. So far this didn’t look good.
    â€œWhat in hell’s name do you think you’re doing?” he demanded.
    â€œI’m trying to ride this horse,” Lauren said. “And since I brought him all the way here to ask for your help, the least you can do is be civil.”
    He shook his head, his breath easing out in a long exhalation.
    â€œI can pay you,” Lauren said. “I’ll pay as much as you want.”
    â€œI don’t need your money, Lauren.” His low, flat voice was more withering than if he’d shouted at her. “I don’t have much time to spare, but I’ll do what I can—not so much for you as for this poor horse. Look at him, he’s overheated and scared half to death.”
    â€œScared? This brute? Now, that’s hard to believe.”
    He swung over the corral fence in one easy motion. “Horses in the wild are prey. Fear helps keep them alive. It’s part of their nature to be scared. You can climb down. I’ve got him.”
    Gripping the bridle with one hand, he stroked the horse’s damp neck, murmuring words Lauren couldn’t understand—Comanche perhaps. She felt Storm Cloud’s taut body begin to relax. Swinging her leg cautiously over his hindquarters, she slid to the welcoming earth. The last time she’d ridden had been in her teens, when she’d competed in dressage with her grandfather’s gaited American saddle horses. She remembered the basics, but her thigh muscles were screaming.
    You know where to find me.
    It had been a gamble on her part, choosing a difficult horse so she could ask Sky for help. There was something aching and restless in her that yearned to see him again and take a chance on what might happen. But after what he’d said to her before he walked out of the ranch office, she had too much pride to simply show up and say, Here I am.
    Did he feel the same? Sky took a step toward her, leaning close. Lauren’s pulse skittered as she readied herself for a kiss, but he only sniffed the air above her head. “I can tell you one thing right now,” he said. “You’re wearing perfume, and this horse hates the smell of it.”
    â€œOh, I hadn’t thought—” Lauren swore silently. She had dabbed her earlobes, the back of her neck and the hollow between her breasts with a pricey fragrance that, according to the ads, was supposed to make men melt. Evidently it didn’t work on horses—or on Sky Fletcher.
    A smile teased the corner of his grim mouth. “In case you’re wondering, I think you smell fine,” he said. “But if you’re going to be around this horse, you’d better get rid of that scent. There’s a faucet outside the barn door. Go and rinse off as much as you can.”
    So much for seduction. Reaching the barn, Lauren found the faucet, turned it on, and began splashing cold water on the spots where she’d dabbed perfume. It was good perfume, formulated to last. Even after she’d finished dousing herself, she could still smell the sweet, musky aroma.
    By the time she