Free Mr. Miracle (Harlequin Super Romance) by Carolyn McSparren Page B

for Whitten. If he could prove that Roman was actually the horse stolen from him two years earlier, he would have a better shot at getting him back without resorting to theft. He’d get the information to Hamish tonight. Meanwhile, there were other important items on his agenda to deal with before Vic returned.
    First he went into the oblong arena and set twelve-foot jump poles on top of the rails at the corners so that he created a lopsided octagon. He would have preferred to work the horse in a regular round pen with high sides and no distractions, but ValleyCrest did not have a round pen.
    He zipped up his leather chaps and buckled a heavy training helmet on his head so he wouldn’t have to take the time to get himself ready later.
    He groomed Roman and put a lunge cavesson on his head, then danced him into the arena, whistling to quiet the animal. He turned the horse to face him, unhooked the twenty-foot lunge tape and stepped back, his eyes on those of the horse. Roman snorted, wheeled and ran to the rail, where he proceeded to repeat his performance of the previous day. Jamey whistled between his teeth and slapped the coiled lunge tape against the ground and his thigh. The stallion exploded at the sound and began to tear around the ring.
    Jamey kept him running for several minutes, holding his body square to the horse’s side and his eyes on the horse’s head. Every time Roman slowed down, Jamey sent him pelting away again. After only a few minutes the horse slowed to a trot, lowered his head almost to the ground as though he were searching for grass to nibble between his feet and began to chew.
    “Yes!” Jamey said. He turned his body sideways and walked away. Only a moment later he heard the thud of the big horse’s hooves as Roman also walked away from the ring and over to Jamey’s right shoulder. Jamey could feel his warm breath on the back of his neck. He grinned. “Gotcha!” He meandered around the ring while Roman followed him, nose to shoulder, blowing against his hair. Finally Jamey stopped, turned around and, when the horse did not move away, began to stroke him from head to tail. The horse sighed.
    “Well, old son,” Jamey said, “now for the moment of truth.” The horse stood quietly beside one of the big solid wall jumps. Gently, whistling under his breath the entire time, Jamey climbed onto the jump.
    The horse moved a step away. Slowly Jamey wound the fingers of his good hand into Roman’s mane and leaned his body over the horse’s broad back. Roman sidestepped, but did not buck.
    After a moment Jamey, keeping his head low, swung his right leg over the horse’s back. He was astride. Roman accepted him with equanimity. He wore no saddle, no bridle. There were no reins or stirrups to keep Jamey aboard. Nothing but his balance. He had no steering mechanism other than his palms, flat on the sides of Roman’s neck, and his seat and legs. He relaxed and simply let Roman wander.
    For twenty minutes Roman wandered all over the arena, sniffed the jumps like a bloodhound, shied at the white jump poles in the corners, snorted and skipped a couple of times just to see whether or not the thing on his back would go away. It didn’t of course.
    Finally Jamey slid off. He was elated. Tonight he’d ride him, even if he had to sneak out at midnight to do it.
    By the end of this week, he’d find some way to get Vic riding something again, even if only a pony. And by the end of next, he swore to himself, she’d be on Roman. Then he could truly see the horse work. After that, depending on whether he could prove Roman was rightfully his, he’d have to decide whether to offer Whitten a price he’d accept or schedule a theft.
    He wished he had his cousin, Tony Costello, beside him. Tony could not only ride anything on four legs, he could move like a wraith. Whenever they got into devilment as boys, Jamey either confessed or got caught. Tony always escaped, whether they were smoking behind the bam—which