Free A Cowboy's Touch by Denise Hunter Page B

thirty thousand acres without a GPS.
    Awhile later they crested another hill, and Abigail arched her back. She was going to find a whole new set of muscles in the morning. The view from the top, however, was worth it. The river meandered through the pasture, rippling and turning, its banks shaded by tall leafy trees and towering evergreens. Wildflowers dotted the meadow with vibrant reds and yellows.
    “We’re here,” Maddy said.
    “Wow, it’s beautiful.” Abigail scanned the horizon as they began the descent. “Where’s the red barn?”
    “Oh, it’s long gone. They just call it that ’cause there used to be a red barn here. Hey, there’s Dad!” Maddy nudged Destiny, and the girl and her horse went sailing down the hill at a pace that made Abigail’s heart skip a beat.
    “Don’t even think about it,” she told Trinket. But the horse continued her plodding steps downhill, following Destiny without direction. It might be dinnertime by the time they reached the bottom, but at least she’d be in one piece.
    She watched Maddy racing toward her dad, who hadn’t spotted her yet. Abigail’s body swayed to and fro with Trinket’s steps. She was getting the hang of this. She held her reins to one side like she’d seen in the movies. Oh yeah. She was good.
    The next moment Trinket hit a hole, flinging Abigail forward in the saddle. She gripped the reins against the horn, brought her legs in. Her feet thumped against Trinket’s side, knocking twice as Trinket regained her footing. Abigail’s left foot slipped from the stirrup.
    Trinket took the nudge as some kind of signal. Her hooves dug in and she picked up speed. Abigail leaned forward, hung on to the reins, the mane, anything she could grasp. Her knees clamped onto the horse’s side.
    “Stop!” she called. No, not stop . “Halt! Stay!”
    Her body jolted against the saddle. She was slipping. The noises Maddy demonstrated, what were they? She made a clucking sound. Trinket didn’t respond. She made a kissing sound.
    And Trinket’s speed increased. They raced down the hill. “Noo-ooo-ooo-ooo!” The jarring broke her word, was breaking her breath, her rear end. Gentle, my foot .
    Air rushed past Abigail, tore at her hair. She slipped sideways. She was going to fall. She was going to be trampled. She was going to die on her relaxing trip to Montana. Not from complications of hypertension, but from sheer stupidity.
    She slipped further, tilting, bumping, her one foot still caught in the stirrup. She had visions of dangling from the stirrup while Trinket raced merrily along.
    Jump or fall? Those were her options now. A braver soul might choose the first, but she clung to the shred of hope that neither would happen. That she could somehow hang on until the horse stopped.
    One slip, tipping her crazily to the side, relieved her of that notion. She was going down. She shook her foot free of the stirrup as gravity had its way.
    Abigail extended her arms, hoping to break her fall. She heard hooves thudding the ground. So close. Please, God!
    The next jolt made love pats of the earlier ones. Her body thudded on the ground, her head slammed into the hard earth. How could something so soft-looking be so hard? That was her last thought before darkness closed in.

11
    W ade nudged the stray Hereford from the riverbank, through the wooded copse, and toward the hill where the others gathered. The sun was getting higher in the sky, and the cows had stopped to graze. Soon they wouldn’t budge, but the meadow was just over the ridge.
    “Dad!” Maddy approached on Destiny, a smile stretching across her face. The sun gleamed on her mahogany hair in copper sparkles. Destiny neighed as they neared, then Maddy reined her in.
    Wade frowned, looking around. “You didn’t come out here alone.”
    “Abigail’s with me.” She pointed to the ridge where his dun mare was lumbering down the slope. Abigail leaned back in the saddle, tense.
    “Can we help you awhile?” Maddy