Free The Rough and Ready Rancher by Kathie DeNosky Page A

a convincing argument as to why he should allow her to help out with the ranch work, but he stood firm. He didn’t want to take the chance of her getting hurt.
    â€œDon’t be pigheaded, McCray.” She sat forward. “You need the help, and as long as I’ve got time between sessions with Satin, there’s no reason for me to be idle.”
    â€œNo.”
    She went on as if he hadn’t spoken. “I could prowl the pastures, check the windmills and water holes, take a head count and report any sick or injured cattle.”
    â€œI said no. Working alone can be dangerous.”
    â€œI could team up with one of your men.”
    The thought of Jenna with any other man caused Flint’s stomach to churn. “You don’t know the area.”
    Her eyes flashed. “That’s horse biscuits and you know it. I’d be working with someone who does, and besides, if you hired somebody else, they wouldn’t know any more about the ranch than I do. Probably less. At least I’ve ridden the part between here and Devil’s Gorge.”
    â€œYou stay away from Devil’s Gorge,” he ordered.
    She hurriedly rose to leave. “No problem.”
    Flint started to emphasize that he hadn’t consented, but the phone rang, and as he answered it, Jenna made good her escape.
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    Two hours later Flint and Ryan rode across the southern quadrant of the ranch. Flint told himself they were just out for a pleasure ride. He’d promised to take his son horseback riding for the past two days and it was mere coincidence they’d headed south. The fact that Jenna was working with Tom Davison had nothing to do with the direction he’d chosen.
    Get real, McCray. After talking with Brad, Flint hadn’t been able to saddle the horses fast enough. Tom had a reputation with the ladies Don Juan would have been proud of. And, whether he liked it or not, it irritated Flint to think of Jenna alone with the good-looking cowboy.
    â€œLook, Daddy.” Ryan pointed to the herd of cattle ahead of them. “There’s Jenna and Tom.”
    Flint’s heart came up in his throat when he saw Jenna ride into the middle of the herd, separate a six-hundred-pound steer from the bunch, then move into position to rope the beast.
    â€œDammit all,” he muttered.
    Technically he hadn’t even given her permission to ride the pasture, let alone consented to let her play cowgirl. But, too far away to stop her and unable to leave Ryan alone with his horse, Flint had no choice but to watch the scene unfold.
    Jenna’s body moved in perfect time with the buckskin as they chased the steer across the pasture. When she swung the loop over her head, Flint held his breath. With any luck she’d miss. But a sick feeling settled over him as he watched the rope sail through the air to drop over the brute’s head with picture-perfect accuracy. She immediately turned the horse so the steer was in position for Tom’s heel shot and in no time at all, they had the animal stretched out on the ground between them.
    Flint would have admired such expert roping if not for the fear twisting his gut. To hold an animal like that, Jenna had to have tied her rope to the saddle horn. If you didn’t know what you were about, that could prove disastrous. The steer could have switched back and charged the horse, run under its belly, or hit the end of the rope so hard it jerked the horse down.
    He watched them dismount, doctor the steer, then exchange a high-five before they wound up their ropes. By the time he and Ryan reached the pair, Flint could have chewed nails in two.
    â€œYou can head for me anytime, sweetheart,” Tom said. Turning to face Flint, the cowboy smiled. “Did you see—”
    â€œJenna, take Ryan back to the house,” Flint ordered. “You’re done for the day.”
    â€œBut I haven’t finished—”
    â€œI said you’re done. Now get back