To Tame A Texan

by Georgina Gentry

  The girl had moved over to pet the broken-down-looking gray nag that was eating cornbread from the skillet.

  Forrester could hardly contain his pleasure at tricking the Durango heir. “You agreed?”

  Ace Durango nodded. “You bet! It’d pleasure me considerable to beat you, Forrester.

  The trap was set. Willis could hardly contain his delight. “Good. Now I get to choose, and I say I ride against the girl.”

  “The girl?” Ace looked like he was choking on a frog. “Naw, that ain’t fair.”

  A murmur of protest went up from the cowboys. They didn’t think he was being chivalrous, but Forrester didn’t have much use for women except when his sexual appetites heated up.

  The McBride girl faced him. She looked headstrong and stubborn. She was almost pretty when she was angry, Willis decided.

  “I’ll take that bet, Forrester. I can already see how funny it’ll be when word gets back home that you were beaten by a girl.”

  The cowboys laughed, and Forrester felt the blood rush to his face. He had always hated the Durangos and the McBrides, and now he would have his revenge. “I wouldn’t count on it, Missy.”

  “Lynnie ...” Ace turned toward the plain, stubborn gal. “You don’t have to do this. . . .”

  “It’s my play,” she insisted.

  “Lynnie,” Ace said, “I’ll loan you my horse—”

  “Naw,” Forrester protested, “she’s got to ride her own horse. That her old nag eatin’ cornbread?”

  “Boneyard is a very good horse,” she defended her mount, her green eyes blazing. “Okay, Forrester, what do you want to bet?”

  He made a mock bow from his saddle. “Ladies first. You pick your prize, honey, and I can tell you, you’re gonna lose.”

  She grinned up at him, as cocksure and stubborn as Ace Durango. They made a good pair, Willis decided.

  “All right, Forrester,” she said, “if I beat you, we get to move our herd ahead of yours and get to Dodge first.”

  She was a smart little bitch, he had to hand it to her, but Forrester had another trick up his sleeve. “Done,” he snarled. “Now, I get to pick what I want if I win the race.”

  Lynnie looked up at him. She had never trusted the rich and powerful Forrester family. They were as proud as peacocks of the fact that they had arrived in Texas with Austin’s pioneer families, and they were legendary for doing whatever it took to win. She looked up into his pale-turquoise eyes. “All right, Forrester, name your prize.”

  He laughed. “It ain’t you, if that’s what you’re thinkin’.”

  Lynnie snorted with contempt. “I wouldn’t be seen out in public with a Forrester. Name your prize, you lily-livered, sorry excuse for a man.”

  “Them’s fightin’ words, but I’ll overlook it since you’re only a gal.”

  “If I were a man, I’d do more than call you names.”

  Forrester shrugged and smiled. “You agreed that I get to name my prize?”

  She nodded.

  Oh, this was going to be so sweet. He grinned and looked around at the scene. “Anything? I got your word?”

  Alarm bells began to go off in her head, but there was no way to back down now. “Everyone knows the McBrides and their reputation for square dealing. You got my word.”

  Forrester threw back his head and laughed out loud, then gestured toward the calves grazing near the wagon. “Tell you what: I win, we’ll have your little pets barbecued and fed to the crew—especially that ugly little cross-eyed one.”

  Lynnie felt herself go white. “Eat Daisy Buttercup? No, anything but that, Forrester. Take a couple of our best steers.”

  “You welshin’ on the bet?” Forrester sneered. “Wait until they hear about this back home.”

  The cowboys set up a murmur of protest, and Ace stepped to her side. “Don’t do it, Lynnie. Forrester, let me put my fine black horse up instead.”

  “I’ll take him as a side bet,” Purdy said.

  There was a long moment of silence. Lynnie was shaking as she looked around at the horrified cowboys. They all knew what Daisy Buttercup and Nighthawk meant to the pair. Yet she knew that if she won the race and moved the herd ahead of Forrester’s, they wouldn’t have to breathe Forrester’s dust for the last few hundred miles of the trip, and they’d get a better price for their beef by arriving first.

  Daisy Buttercup raised her little head and looked at Lynnie. At least, she appeared to be looking at Lynnie. She shook her yellow ribbons and bawled.

  Tears came to Lynnie’s eyes so that her vision was blurred. “I—I can’t. Think of something else.”

  “Well?” Forrester grinned. “You ready to holler ‘calf-roped’?”

  “Forrester,” Ace snarled, “You low-down polecat. That’s no way to treat a lady.”

  He couldn’t resist, even knowing it was dangerous to rile a Durango. “I reckon we ain’t decided whether or not she’s really a lady.”

  At that point, Ace reached up, quick as a rattlesnake’s strike, grabbed Willis by the shirt, and pulled him from his horse. They went down in a tangle of flying fists under the horse’s hooves. The horse snorted and reared as the men rolled and fought.

  “Stop it, you two!” Lynnie yelled, but the pair ignored her. She reached into Ace’s holster, grabbed his pistol, and fired it in the air. “Stop it, I say!”

  The two stumbled to their feet, dusty and torn.

  Forrester wiped a thin stream of blood from his lip. “I look forward to the barbecue and takin’ your fancy horse, Durango.” He picked up his hat, dusted it off against his leg, and swung up into his saddle.

  Purdy chuckled, brave now that Forrester seemed to have triumphed. “Ain’t this the wench who’s always wantin’ equal rights? Well, that’s what we’re offerin’.”

  Lynnie swallowed hard and took a deep breath. She couldn’t back down now. Besides, she had faith in Boneyard. “All right, the bet is on. We’ll race tomorrow about dusk.”

  “Fine, we’ll see you then. Adios.” Willis Forrester touched the brim of his hat with two fingers by way of salute. Then he and Purdy wheeled their horses and trotted off into the darkness.

  Ace watched them go, then turned back to stare at her. “Oh, Lynnie, what have you done?”

  “It—it’s important for us to get to Dodge first,” she said stubbornly, and turned away so he wouldn’t see her cry. She ran to the gawky calf and threw her arms around its neck. “You aren’t going to be barbecued, baby. Tomorrow night, I’ve got to win that race!”

  All too soon, they met up with Forrester’s crew on the Kansas plains, between the two herds, just before sundown.

  Both crews of cowboys gathered and watched each other uneasily as Ace and Willis Forrester went over the rules again.

  Ace looked up and down the flat stretch of prairie. “I think down to that big rock, around it, and back here past this line in the dirt. That suit you, Forrester?”

  Lynnie frowned. “Since I’m doing the racing, you might let me have a say in this.”

  Forrester stood there holding the reins of his fine bay quarterhorse. “Since when does an hombre ask a woman anything?”

  Ace frowned. “We’ve kinda gotten used to treatin’ Lynnie like an equal.”

  His cowboys nodded and murmured agreement.

  Cookie took a sip of vanilla. “We reckon Miss Lynnie’s earned her rights.”

  “Yeah,” Joe said, “she’s as good a hand as any among us.”

  Lynnie blushed at the praise and patted her gray horse.

  Ace looked at her. “Those rules suit you, Lynnie?”

  She nodded.

  The other crew was looking in astonishment at her horse. “It’s a joke, ain’t it? That gal really fixin’ to race that old gray nag against one of Forrester’s best horses?”

  Ace’s cowboys hurrahed the other side with jeers. “Just you wait and see what Miss Lynnie and Boneyard can do.”

  “Boneyard?” Purdy snorted and wiped his fat face. “Well, now, that’
s a good name for that old hay-burner, ain’t it?”

  About that time, little Daisy Buttercup began to bawl and hunt for Lynnie. She handed her reins to Ace and ran over to comfort the small, cross-eyed calf. “Never you mind, baby, I’m going to win this race.”

  Forrester threw back his head and laughed. “Hey, boys,” he yelled to his crew, “that cross-eyed calf is what we’re havin’ for supper tonight.”

  “Naw!” one yelled. “Ain’t hardly big enough to feed this bunch, but I’ll bet she’s tender.”

  The Forrester cowboys set up a chorus of bawdy laughter while Lynnie blinked her tears back, straightened her gold spectacles, and returned to the starting line. The sun was low on the horizon, but the air was still hot.

  “All right,” she said, and took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders. “I reckon I’m ready to race.”

  Both contestants mounted up, with all the cowboys lining up and down the racecourse to watch. Forrester’s spirited quarterhorse snorted and reared as his rider held him in check. On the other hand, Boneyard stood quietly, almost as if she were sleeping—or, at least, had her mind on other things.

  “Okay,” shouted Ace, “I got this red bandanna, and I’ll drop it when you’re both ready to go. You both got to go up and around that boulder over there and back across this line Forrester’s men have drawn in the dirt. You understand that?”

  Both nodded. Lynnie squinted through her spectacles and studied the course. The boulder was less than a quarter mile away; an ideal distance for a fine-blooded quarterhorse. That breed had been bred to cover a short distance in the fastest time, which made them ideal for working cattle. Her calves bawled again, and Lynnie winced, hoping that Boneyard could run as fast as Penelope had said.

  “Ready?” Ace held the red bandanna up.

  Both nodded. Forrester was having trouble keeping his spirited horse behind the starting line. It snorted and danced about. However, Boneyard almost appeared to be asleep. Lynnie leaned over in her saddle and whispered in her horse’s ear. “Hey, baby, you’ve got to win this for Daisy and the other calves. More than that, you’ve got to show this bunch of male animals that girls can be better than they are. You hear me, sweetie? You’ve got to win this for all the females in the world.”

  Boneyard gave no clue that she had heard. Lynnie, on the mare’s back, felt no tension or any clue that Boneyard realized she was about to run an important race.

  “Ready!” Ace held the bandanna as high as his head, then let it flutter on the evening air as it fell. “Go!”

  Lynnie slapped Boneyard with the reins, and the startled mare seemed to awaken and start out at a light canter. Next to her, Forrester dug his spurs into his bay horse and lashed him with a quirt. The horse took off at a dead gallop.

  “Giddiup, Boneyard! Yah, baby!” Lynnie urged her gray forward, dust already flying in her face as Forrester’s bay galloped ahead.

  From the sidelines came the shouts and jeers of the gathered cowboys drifting to her ears. “Hey, that old gray is asleep on her feet!”

  “Boneyard will catch up; don’t count your win yet!”

  Lynnie glanced behind her and saw Ace’s grim face. He, too, thought she was going to lose. She had to win, not only to save her calves but to move their herd ahead of the Forrester herd. That would save the day for Ace, make his father proud of him, and bring in a lot of money. “Come on, Boneyard, give it all you’ve got!”

  At this point, her gray horse seemed to realize finally that they were in a race. Her ears went up and she whinnied and quickened her speed. The fine bay quarterhorse was already three lengths ahead of her and running hard for the boulder.

  “Come on, Boneyard!” Lynnie was a skillful rider, and her mount snorted and began to run. It was almost as if she wouldn’t be outdone by some fancy bay. The quarterhorse was throwing dust in their eyes as it ran ahead of them, and Lynnie could hardly see the boulder ahead. Behind her, she heard the cowboys yelling encouragement and cheering the racers. No one, even her own cowboys, probably thought she could win. “Get moving, Boneyard! They can’t eat my calves!”

  Boneyard finally seemed to hear Lynnie and stretched out at a dead run toward the boulder, right on the heels of Forrester’s quarterhorse. Rounding the boulder, Lynnie was still behind the other rider. Now they were headed back toward the finish line, the quarterhorse still showing the gray its heels.

  “Come on, Boneyard!” She leaned close to the gray’s ears, urging her to greater speed. Far up ahead, Lynnie could barely see the yelling cowboys through the dust on each side of the finish line, Ace standing almost frozen to the spot. Dust filled her mouth and eyes so that she could hardly see, and her teeth gritted when she took a breath. The scent of lathered, sweating horses was strong on the hot air. “Now, Boneyard, now!”

  Her mare needed no urging. Forrester was still ahead of them, but Boneyard was gaining. The Forrester cowboys had stopped shouting and were staring, big-eyed, almost as if they couldn’t quite believe what they were seeing. Her mare was running neck and neck with the bay now, and Forrester glanced over, surprise and anger in his cold turquoise eyes. He lashed out with his quirt, catching Boneyard across the muzzle.

  “No fair!” Lynnie yelled as her horse faltered and then regained its stride. “You rotten cheater! Come on, Boneyard!”

  The gray, with her rider’s urging, ran even faster. The noise along the sidelines was building to a roar as excited men jumped up and down and waved their hats.

  “Now, Boneyard, make your move!” She urged the gray on, and the lanky mare stretched her stride even more and began to leave the fine quarterhorse behind. The finish line was only a few yards ahead. Lynnie’s head seemed to pound like the thunder of the racing hooves. Up ahead, she saw Ace, his face beginning to show hope. Now he was waving her on and cheering, too.

  “Come on, Boneyard!” Lynnie gave the mare every bit of her riding skill, and the distance between the two horses lengthened as the gray’s hooves pounded a rhythm and left Forrester in the dust. She was two lengths ahead when she crossed the finish line, and the crowd of cowboys went wild, dancing in circles and hugging each other, shouting with joy.

  Lynnie reined in and fell off the horse into Ace’s arms.

  “Lynnie, you did it! Congratulations!”

  She buried her face in his broad shoulder with tears of relief as Forrester rode over the finish line, shouting, “I was robbed! She cheated!”

  Ace set her to one side and faced Forrester. “Would you like to back up those words with your fists, Forrester, because I aim to beat your face in for callin’ the lady a cheat and hittin’ her horse like you did.”

  The other man reined in and hesitated. “Well, I reckon maybe I was wrong. I just don’t understand how that old nag could have beat me.”

  Lynnie strode over to hug her lathered gray’s neck. “Sometimes a mare is better than a stallion,” she said. “Now, Mr. Forrester, I’ll collect my debt.”

  Willis Forrester’s face was as black as thunder as he nodded in defeat. There was nothing he could do but instruct his cowboys to hold his herd and let the Durango herd move ahead of them. “You ain’t seen the last of me yet,” he threatened.

  Lynnie, riding past him, could not resist turning in her saddle to yell back. “See you in Dodge City, Mr. Forrester.”

  Even though it was fast growing dark, Ace and his cowboys got their herd on the move and passed the Forrester herd. Ace was jubilant as he looked back and watched the Forrester herd fade into the background. “You did it, Lynnie. We’ll be the first ones to Dodge, and we’ll get top price for our beef.”

  She only nodded coolly, now remembering how fast the big cowboy had been to reject her the morning after he’d made love to her. However, she had another worry; she intended to keep Daisy, but what would she do with her other three calves when she reached Dodge? She hadn’t gone to all this trouble so they could end up on a dinner plate.

  A few more days passed, and they saw smoke curling up from a chim
ney in the distance.

  Ace sniffed. “Settlers in some dirt soddie, I reckon. It won’t be long before they’ll be fencin’ the whole range and plowin’ it up. They’ll mean the end of the cattleman.”

  “Oh, don’t be so greedy,” Lynnie said. “While we rest and water the herd at that next creek, why don’t we ride over and see them?”

  “Not interested.” Ace shook his head.

  “Fine, then I’ll go alone.”

  “Let you ride out alone? I can’t do that.”

  A small flame of hope flickered. “Why not? You worried about me?”

  He pushed his hat back. “Of course not. Lordy, you do a better job of lookin’ out for yourself than most cowboys. You’re as independent as a hog on ice.”

  “I appreciate the comparison,” she snapped.

  “What I meant to say,” he replied, “was that I’d have to answer to Uncle Maverick and Dad if something happened to you.”

  “You didn’t seem worried about that the night you seduced me.”

  “Seduced you? Lynnie McBride, you was all over me like bees on a honey tree. Why, I couldn’t fight you off.”

  She felt her face burn. “I don’t remember that you tried to. Besides, Ace Durango, you are no gentleman to bring that up. Now, I’m riding over to that settler’s cabin. You can stay here if you like.”

  He sighed in defeat. “I’ll go along.”

  “Fine. I hope you’ll ride a few yards behind me; I wouldn’t want anyone to think we were together.”

  “Perish the thought. After all, the farmer might have a pretty daughter.”

  She looked him over coldly. “I doubt if we have the time for you to get the daughter’s drawers off.”

  He winked at her. “It don’t usually take me long. Anyway, if she’s purty, I’ll hurry it up so we won’t delay the drive.”

  “Fine.” She had never been so angry in her life. To think she had wasted her virginity on this galoot. She nudged Boneyard and rode toward the distant soddie with Ace trailing behind her.

  “Hello the house!” she yelled, waving her hat.

  A handsome young man came out of the soddie and paused in surprise, then waved. “Come on in.”