Free Wild About the Wrangler by Vicki Lewis Thompson

slept in her clothes.
    She hadn’t bothered to zip her quilted vest, and underneath it her shirt was a wrinkled mess that was no longer tucked into her jeans if it ever had been. The jeans didn’t show wrinkles, but the cuffs were bunched around her boot tops. Most people either pulled them over the boots or tucked them in, but she hadn’t taken the time to do either.
    They weren’t the same clothes she’d had on yesterday, though. She’d obviously changed outfits. At first glance he wouldn’t have recognized her except for the canvas messenger bag slung over her shoulder.
    He got no cheery smile from her, either. She gazed at him in silence, her usually bright eyes dull and unfocused.
    â€œGood morning, Anastasia.”
    â€œMorning.” Her voice was hoarse.
    â€œReady to work with Jasper?”
    She nodded.
    Ed walked up to stand beside Mac. He surveyed Anastasia for a moment. “Young lady, how about if I fetch you a cup of coffee from the house?”
    She nodded again.
    â€œI’ll be right back.” Ed hurried out of the barn.
    She stayed put, as if somebody had nailed her boots to the floor.
    Mac nudged his hat back with his thumb. “Guess you weren’t kidding about that zombie thing.”
    Once again her reply sounded like a rusty hinge. “No.”
    â€œBut you made it on time. Congratulations.”
    â€œThanks.”
    He resisted the urge to fix her hair, or straighten the cuffs of her jeans, or tuck in her shirt. She needed tending to, but he wasn’t the person who should do the tending. He was touched, though, that she’d done what she had to in order to make it here by six. Obviously it hadn’t been easy for her.
    â€œIs it okay if we hang your messenger bag on one of those wall hooks?” He gestured toward a section that Ed had constructed specifically for ladies’ purses.
    A friend of Ed’s had welded horseshoes together to make eight hooks that Ed had nailed to the wall. Women who arrived for short rides armed with purses could leave them here. Only one lady had ever questioned the security of this arrangement, and the insulted expression on Ed’s weathered face had convinced her that she didn’t have to worry.
    â€œYou’ll need to have both hands free,” Mac added.
    She looked at the messenger bag hanging from her shoulder as if surprised to see it there. If she’d been operating on automatic this morning, she might have scooped it up out of habit. Or maybe she intended to stick around and draw horses after the lesson.
    She swallowed and handed it over. “That’s fine.”
    As Mac looped the strap over the first hook, Ed came back with a steaming mug in one hand and an energy bar in the other.
    â€œIt’s hot.” He handed her the mug carefully. “Don’t burn your tongue.”
    â€œThank you.” Her voice sounded slightly more normal.
    â€œJust in case you didn’t have time for breakfast, Vivian told me to bring this.” He opened the top of the energy bar and peeled down the wrapper before handing her that, too. “It’s strawberry. Most people like strawberry.”
    â€œThanks.” She took a cautious sip of the coffee and closed her eyes. “Ah.”
    â€œApparently you had the right idea, Ed. Thank you.” Mac wished he’d thought of it. He could have brought a thermos of coffee. He didn’t have energy bars, but he could have made her a P B and J.
    Ed chuckled. “I recognize the look. My daughter’s a night owl. She moved to California and took a job writing computer code for a company that doesn’t care if she works nights or days so long as she finishes her projects. She told me once that she wouldn’t be able to keep my hours if I put a gun to her head.”
    Mac glanced at Anastasia. “Then I guess I should be even more flattered than I was that you got out of bed to be here.”
    â€œYou