Mustang Wild

by Stacey Kayne

  "About the only thing we can do. Go eat supper with Skylar Daines-Morgan, our new trail boss."

  Chapter 4

  Skylar sat atop the fence outside the stable, watching a small beacon of white light blossom in the darkness. The orange sun began to slowly crest the eastern horizon, magically chasing shadows from the land. Pale streamers of light sprayed across the sky, replacing the nighttime stars with the warm glow of early morning, and transforming hidden patches of white into brilliant pink clouds.

  Skylar saw no beauty in the colorful sunrise, only deception. Pink clouds were merely an illusion of light, just as her father's promises had been an illusion to lure her to Wyoming. The bitter reality of her father's lies crashed through her spirit with devastating force, filling her chest with such pain she hardly had room for breath.

  Life seemed to be one big deception after another. Her father had never intended to build them a home. Zachary Daines had caused her plenty of disappointment in the past few years, but to her knowledge, he'd never flat out lied to her. Why did he lie?

  To get the only thing that's ever mattered to Zachary Daines, her mind answered. The chance to see and roam a new stretch of ground. To do that, he'd needed her to tame his horses and look after Garret.She didn't want to believe Chance Morgan's word over her father's, but when she stared into Chance's cold green eyes, she knew he was telling her the truth. The deed she'd safely sealed inside the rear facing of her father's Bible belonged to the Morgans alone, yet she couldn't let them have it. Not yet.

  Drawing a deep breath, she shifted her gaze into the corral at Tucker's small band of anxious mustangs. She'd spent the last two years turning wild ponies into fine horses many cattle or cavalry outfits had paidtop dollar for. Yet here she sat, with nothing to show for all her hard work and a little brother to raise on her own. How on earth was she supposed to take care of Garret without a job or a penny to her name? How could her father do this to them?

  She had to get their horses back. She and Garret could at least make a start with the money from those mustangs. If they made good time and followed the trails marked in her father's journal, they could catch up to Randal in Wyoming. Although even if she recovered her horses, she still had the Morgans to worry about. As Tucker's wife, they could try to claim her horses without paying her one red cent.

  Tugging at her leather gloves, she jumped down into the corral. There didn't seem to be a man on this earth who could be trusted, and Tucker Morgan had proven to be as deceitful as the rest. She and Garret had overheard every word of Tucker's plans to gussy her up and marry her off to the first Wyoming man they came across. Fuming, she had served a bowl of stew for herself and Garret, then dumped a handful of salt into the rest. She was here to train horses, not cater to a man who planned to trade her off like livestock.

  She shrugged her lariat from her shoulder, catching the coils of rope in her gloved hand. Tucker Morgan had a thing or two to learn about women. By the time they reached Wyoming, he'd be begging her to stay on and work with his horses.

  "Okay, ladies, who's gonna be first?" She scanned the mares, all of whom were stamping and snorting, making it clear they had no desire to tote a rider on their backs. Time they learned life didn't have a damn thing to do with what anyone wanted. If she was going to beat Wade Randal to Wyoming, they had work to do.

  Pulling some slack through the knot at the end of her rope, opening her lasso, she glanced at the saddled brown-and-white mare she'd separated from the herd the night before. She'd spent most of the past evening assessing Tucker's mares, allowing them to become familiar with her and the sound of her voice. The spirited paint had caught her attention right off as she moved through the corral, pushing the others out of her way. Skylar had seen a few nips and cuts on some of the other mares, and figured the dominating brown and white was responsible for those injuries.

  The headstrong mustang had been a handful just to haul into a solitary pen. She'd been a snorting, stamping beast while Skylar slung a saddle onto her back during the early-morning darkness.

  I'll save the best for last! she thought, shifting her gaze back to the other horses.

  Tucker stood in the cabin doorway watching Skylar lead a mustang with a light golden coat away from the corral. He wondered what she planned to do with the wild mare. The sun hadn't been up for a full half hour, yet she had already saddled two of the mares and apparently had plans to take an early-morning ride on one. A pair of fringed chaps clung to her long legs, the fawn leather encasing her shapely backside like a picture window.

  He had a notion to tell her she'd be better off mounting an untamed horse inside a corral, but as he watched his wild mustang trot along beside her, showing no signs of protest, he decided to remain a silent spectator. The faint, soothing sound of Skylar's voice drifted back as she guided the horse farther away from the ranch.

  As they walked deeper into the vast expanse of dry dirt, sage and chaparral, Tucker saw Garret riding bareback on his chestnut Arabian, all bright-eyed and ready to assist his sister. Skylar stopped a few yards away from him. Within the space of a breath she was on the mare, sitting tall in the saddle as she waited for the mare's reaction.

  The mare seemed to be as stunned as Tucker by Skylar's quick jump into the saddle. The buckskin stood perfectly still for a moment, then began to sidestep, steadily working toward an all-out fit. Twisting to the right, the horse bucked its hind legs up off the ground.

  After a few more sharp kicks, the horse planted its hind quarters on the ground, trying to dump the extra weight. Skylar stuck to the mare's back as though her denim pants were sewn to the saddle. She leaned forward and touched her heels to the horse.

  The mare shot up and took off across the desert. He could see Skylar was trying to nudge the stubborn horse to the right. When the mare didn't respond, Skylar's left arm shot out, and to Tucker's surprise, a bull whip uncoiled from her hand and pierced the air with a sharp snap.

  The horse veered right.

  "I'll be damned." A smile tugged at his lips as he watched the woman and mare in sheer amazement.

  "What the hell!" Chance bumped Tucker away from the door frame as he barged outside with his gun drawn. "I heard—"

  "Skylar riding a mare," Tucker finished for him as he glanced at his brother's half-shaven face. "You might want to pull your jaw shut. All that sweet lather's bound to attract flies."

  "She's riding one of your mares."

  "She is," Tucker said, shifting his gaze back toward the open desert.

  "She's got a bullwhip," Chance said as the whip cracked again.

  "She certainly does."

  Skylar continued maneuvering the horse in different directions, only cracking the whip when the horse didn't respond to her nudges. Garret stayed close by, riding a short distance behind her. After a few minutes of zigzagging, the mustang was catching on, taking its cues without being prompted by the crack of the whip.

  "That's the damnedest thing I ever saw," said Chance as he holstered his gun. "Has she whipped the horse at all?"

  "Nope."

  "I told you Daines was known to be one hell of a horse trainer," Chance said, sounding smug.

  Tucker laughed at the jubilant gleam in his brother's eyes. Seemed they had their horse trainer after all. "Maybe you ought to finish shaving before your lather starts to crack." Still needing a shave, Tucker followed Chance inside.

  When Tucker returned to the yard the buckskin Skylar had ridden was tethered outside the corral, the saddle already pulled from its back. Not seeing any sign of the boss lady, Tucker approached the tethered buckskin.

  "Easy, girl," he murmured, running a hand across her thick, golden coat. He inspected the horse's flank for any abrasions caused by Skylar's spurs.

  The mare didn't have a mark on her.

  "I didn't bloody your horse, Morgan."

  Tucker glanced back at the woman standing behind him, her hands firmly planted on her hips, a coil of rope over one shoulder, her bullwhip coiled around th
e other. Narrowed blue eyes bore into him as he turned to face her.

  Daines had either been a desperate man, incredibly brave or just plain stupid. If Daines hadn't been killed by horse thieves, he surely would have had hell to pay when Skylar reached Wyoming and discovered he'd lied to her. Thanks to Zach Daines, Tucker was left to deal with her wrath.

  "I didn't accuse you of any such thing," he said in an easy tone. "In fact, I'm impressed as hell by the way you handled this mare."

  "I'm just getting the job done. If you have a preference as to which horses you want gentled, say so now."

  "After watching you, I wouldn't be surprised if you broke them all before we leave."

  "I don't break horses, I train them."

  Tucker didn't miss the sharp edge in her tone. "There's a difference?" he asked, fully aware that there was and quite certain of her position between the two. Yet he was curious to hear Skylar's take on the subject. Or maybe he enjoyed the incredulous expression that eased her harsh frown.

  Her big blue eyes widened a fraction, her lips parted.

  Full pink lips.

  For a shrew, she had the most kissable lips he'd ever seen.

  "You say you own a horse ranch?" she asked.

  "It's a new business venture," he explained, which was true. He'd gentled a few horses in his day, but he was far from being a skilled trainer. His field of expertise was tracking vermin. "Are you going to enlighten me or stand there and silently call me an idiot?"

  She took her time in deciding. Then those pretty pink lips shifted into a slight grin, and Tucker felt a true sense of caution.

  "A spirited horse with good training," she said, "knows its job, can execute routine tasks with little to no prompting, and most importantly, has enough sense to know when a useless lump is riding on its back. A real intelligent horse will unload that useless baggage at the soonest opportunity. Pleasant creatures, really."

  Skylar's tight smile told Tucker he'd been lumped into her useless-baggage category of riders. Although judging by her hostility, men in general occupied that category.

  "A horse that's been broken," she continued, "has been bullied into doing its master's bidding. Convinced it's too stupid to think for itself, it relies on the rider for guidance. Unfortunate, and frequently disastrous. From my own observations, I'd choose horse sense over a cowboy's any day."

  Tucker didn't doubt it. "Why didn't you take the spotted mare out first?"

  Her blue eyes narrowed and Tucker had to fight a grin. She didn't like being questioned. He was suddenly overwhelmed by curiosity, his mind filling with questions he couldn't wait to have answered by his new horse trainer.

  "She's the strongest, most ill-tempered of the lot. But don't worry, Morgan, she'll be gentled. I'll take her out just as soon as she wears herself out a bit more warming to that saddle. Like I said, if you have a preference with the others, say so now."

  "Miss Skylar, you can go ahead and pick and choose as you see fit."

  "Good." She turned her back on him and opened the gate. Tucker watched her shrug the rope from her left shoulder and open her lasso as she spotted the mare she wanted. She tossed her rope, snaring the mare with an ease that came from years of practice. The kid hadn't been exaggerating when he'd said his sister knew her business.

  "Morgan, are you gonna come take this mare or am I working alone today?"

  He tensed at her impatient tone. Lord, my brain must have been floating in whiskey when she walked into Big Jack's. He wasn't about to let her walk all over him.

  He entered the corral and held his hand out to take the rope. "Is calling me 'Morgan' a shortcut so you don't have to figure out which one of us you're talking to?"

  "No, Tucker." She turned, leveling her gaze on him. "It's supposed to keep things formal between us."

  Tucker couldn't fight his smile, a small part of him liking that she recognized him from Chance, and mostly amused that she felt she needed anything other than her sweet disposition to keep their relationship strictly business. He quickly tied the mare to the fence outside the stall and went to retrieve another.

  "So, what's on the agenda, boss lady?" he asked, certain she had one.

  "We'll separate twelve horses to be gentled. One of you can help Garret rig them with cinches so they can get used to having their barrels strapped before we toss a saddle on them."

  She grabbed another rope from a bundle on the fence. "The other can work with me."

  Tough choice. But he'd never been one to take the easy way out. "What are we gonna do?"

  Her gaze flickered up, and Tucker swore he saw a smile in her eyes.

  Seemed he wasn't the only one who enjoyed a challenge.

  "We get to teach your mustangs some manners," she said.

  "And we'll work with the other eight tomorrow?" he asked.

  Taken aback by his question, Skylar wondered just how much this handsome cowboy truly knew of horses. "No. We'll work with the same twelve tomorrow."

  His pinched expression told her he_didn't like that answer.

  "Morgan, you can either have twelve well-mannered horses, or twenty that won't ride worth a damn. Your choice."

  "I hope you don't think I'll be leaving the others behind."

  Skylar hoped he didn't plan on arriving in Wyoming with all twenty of his mares. They had plenty of wild territory to cross, and his band of horses would slow them down, making it nearly impossible to travel without being detected. Four measly horsemen certainly wouldn't intimidate a band of thieves or hostile Indians into keeping their distance. Unsure of how Tucker would react to the prospect of such situations, she decided not to mention it. He'd catch on soon enough.

  "You won't have to leave any horses. The others will follow the more dominant of the group, but we need horses we can ride. I won't put Garret on a wild mare, and I won't kill our two stallions by pushing them too long and hard. When I'm finished, we'll each have four horses, including our own mounts."

  Tucker's eyebrows shot up. "You're planning on doing some hard riding."

  "I plan to head out in two days and keep as fast a pace as possible."

  "Two days?"

  "I already went over this with Chance, and he didn't have a problem with leaving in two days. In fact, he seemed real pleased and said he'd ride out tomorrow to get supplies."

  "You'll have twelve horses ready in two days?"

  "I will." She waited to hear him say she couldn't. He surprised her by saying, "Then we bes' get busy," before he beamed one of his smiles.

  She wished he wouldn't do that. With his freshly shaven face all bronze and shiny, and the scent of shaving lather strong on his skin, Tucker was already plain delectable.

  Skylar turned away from him, her face warming from the ridiculous thoughts fluttering through her mind.

  Delectable?

  Good Lord. She'd gotten carried away with a single kiss and now she was thinking like a harlot. She'd been working and bunking with men most her life, yet not one of them had ever caused her pulse to stir or mind to spin by simply looking at her. But she didn't want a repeat of her encounter with Randal. She'd make it perfectly clear she had no such interest in Tucker.

  What she needed was to get her hide on a wild mare and focus on work, not the green-eyed cowboy with a fallen-angel smile.

  Tension eating at his spine, Tucker sat anxiously in his saddle, watching Skylar in silent fascination. After working with most of the mares they'd separated from the herd, he wasn't proud to admit he'd eaten far more dirt than she had. In fact, she was presently sitting on the only horse that had managed to toss her from its back. More than once.

  The first time he'd watched Skylar's body slap against the unforgivably hard earth, his initial reaction had been to make sure she was all right. Before he could dismount, she'd jumped to her feet, dusted herself off and marched toward the mustang with a determination Tucker couldn't help but admire.

  Hang on, darlin', he thought as the spotted mare dipped her head, digging her front h
ooves into the ground and whipping Skylar to another sharp stop. To Tucker's surprise, the mare didn't kick and thrash, but stood stock-still. Skylar appeared relaxed, her eyes narrow with concentration as she dug her boots into the stirrups and tightened her hold on the reins, preparing for another round of bucking.

  The woman was amazing. She seemed to be able to predict the horse's movements. And her voice... Tucker damn near melted off his mount every time she used that soft, sensual voice of hers to calm the mares.

  As if cued by his thoughts, Skylar began talking softly to the mare, attempting to reason with a creature that had proven to be as strong-willed as she was.

  Tucker's muscles tensed as her sultry tone grated over his skin and curled around his senses. Needing a distraction, he glanced out at the wide streamers of pink streaking across the western sky, and doubted Skylar had even noticed the blush of sunset, her sole focus being the wild horse.

  "Skylar," Tucker said when she was quiet once more. "You've got to be exhausted. What do you say we call it day?"

  "I'd like to ride her back to the ranch." Her frown deepened. "But what I'd like don't count for spit, or I'd be chin deep in a long tub filled with sudsy, warm water."

  Tucker chuckled. That had been another surprise. Though it was as dry as the desert floor, Skylar had a sense of humor, and she wasn't as impossible to work with as he'd feared. In fact, they'd worked really smoothly together all day. Of course, the only time she seemed aware of his presence was when they switched mounts, and even then, their verbal exchange was minimal, each knowing what needed to be done without prompting from the other.

  "Suppose I should be happy she's letting me sit up here without trying to get me under her hooves," she said with a heavy sigh.

  She clearly wasn't happy with the progress she'd made with this particular mare. The horse had only one direction in mind, and that was toward the setting sun. Skylar had managed to work her in circles, but they'd been steadily moving west for the last hour despite Skylar's efforts to urge the horse in the opposite direction.

  Tucker rode slowly toward her. "Put the lead back on her and you can stay in that saddle while I drag her back to the ranch. Perhaps after we walk her through the routine, she'll catch on."