Free Ballad Beauty by Lauren Linwood

walked with her valise down the steps to the uncobbled road. She caught a glimpse of Mr. Webster and watched him come up the street. He was a very handsome man, almost too handsome for his own good. He was astride a beautiful black horse that had a touch of white on his forehead.
    Come to think of it, he had a glib tongue, as well, and though she’d told him she enjoyed his conversation, she wondered about it now. He was probably what would be termed a charming rogue. She wondered again if she should trust going off with a total stranger. In her other life, it would be against her better judgment, but she was starting fresh now. She was stuck with Mr. Webster and he with her.
    He was leading an unfamiliar horse, as well as a pack horse laden with their supplies.
    “Where is my horse, Mr. Webster?” She found she hadn’t kept the snooty schoolmarm tone from her question because he raised his eyebrows at her.
    “Your horse, Miss McShanahan, is back where it should be. In the stockyard. I had Whitey trade it for a new one.”
    “You had no right!” She slammed her suitcase to the ground for emphasis.
    He dismounted from his horse and strolled the few paces to her. “I had every right, ma’am, seeing as to how I’m your guide. That nag you chose wouldn’t have made it twenty miles before it keeled over. You have a nice piece of horseflesh now. She’s even-tempered and should be fairly easy for a greenhorn to handle.”
    He walked to her new horse and brushed a hand along its flank. Jenny had to admit it was a lovely horse, a deep chestnut color. She moved closer and lifted a hand to stroke its silky coat. With one pat, she fell in love.
    “Now shall we help you mount this replacement and be on our way?”
    Before she could reply, he placed his hands around her waist and lifted her onto the horse as if she were lighter than a floating balloon. Startled, she griped the horn of the saddle. Then just as suddenly, he pulled her back down.
    “You look might pretty, but that’ll never do,” he said, shaking his head.
    “Now what?”
    “You’ll have to change, Miss McShanahan.”
    She gritted her teeth. “Not this again.” She crossed her arms. “My outfit is perfectly fine. I felt very comfortable in it for the limited time I sat upon my horse. Which, by the way, Mr. Webster—what is her name?”
    Noah looked surprised at her question. “Why?”
    She blew out a noisy breath, not trying to hide her irritation with him. “She must have a name, Mr. Webster. How can you expect me to ride her without being able to talk with her?”
    He wore a bemused look on his chiseled features. “She doesn’t have a name.”
    She pressed him further. “Does your horse have a name?”
    “This here’s Star, ma’am,” he said with pride.
    “Then I’m sure you see my point.” She leaned over and petted his horse. “Hello, Star,” she cooed. “I’m Jenny, and this is . . .” She eyed her mare speculatively for a moment. “Sassy. We’re going to be traveling together. I know we’ll have a nice trip.”
    She swept a gentle hand along her own horse’s flank. “Hello, Sassy, dear. I know we’ll get along famously. I’ve always wanted a horse, and you’re a real beauty. I’m going to need lots of help, though. I know you’ll take good care of me.”
    She looked to Noah. “Well? Are we ready to leave or what?”
    “Not till you take off that corset.”
    Her face immediately registered bright red. “I beg your pardon! That is not a matter for discussion, sir.”
    Noah tipped his hat away from his forehead. “We’ll discuss it and anything else I see fit to discuss. You simply cannot ride any length of time, especially as far as we need to go, in such . . .” he searched for the appropriate words, “. . . restrictive attire.”
    He had the grace to look a little sheepish. “It’s just for your own good, Miss McShanahan. Besides,” and he gave her a slow, heated look as he took in her tall frame. “You don’t