Texas Wild (western romance and sex) (western romance)

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Texas Wild (western romance and sex) (western romance) Page 4

by Cristina Grenier


  The temptation to use him for revenge sex was there and she had nearly carried it out when they had returned to the barn that day. He had helped her off of the horse and the two had paused with their eyes locked upon each other. Had either made in sort of move toward anything more, they would have been literally rolling in the hay together, but they both turned away, though God help her, she wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was a sign that there was something better for the two of them?

  She had settled her mind upon friendship, but she began to notice him and watch what he was doing. She began to get up earlier and watch the doorway to his house. Very early, he would emerge and stroll down to the barn. Though she couldn’t hear him, she imagined that he whistled softly, because the quiet smile and relaxed look upon his face spoke of a deep form of contentment. She often observed him working around the barn, observing him as he worked the young horses, not in the rough way that was common to the older methods of horse training, but to a newer, gradual method which seemed to form more of a partnership than a master/subject relationship. In this way, the battle for her heart was kept in a constant turmoil as the one side swore to remain aloof and distant from all human males and the other longed for the stronger, gentler type that she had never known before.

  The dichotomy of his strength and gentleness eluded her for quite some time; however it served to draw her toward him as she studied the novel phenomenon which was before her eyes. It wasn’t long before she decided to see if he would take her with him when he went out to ride. Therefore, it was this motivation which had her lingering in the barn one morning rather than watching for him out the window.

  She had been correct in her assumption and heard him whistling softly as he approached the barn, unaware that anyone else was around. She slipped back into an empty stall and decided to watch him. He went directly to his favorite horse Charlie with a bridle in his hand, continuing to whistle the tune until he stepped into the pen with Charlie. “Hey buddy,” he said. “You ready to go for a ride?”

  The big bay, slowly strolled toward him, not necessarily bored, but very relaxed and comfortable to be around this two-legged companion. He lowered his head, just as Sandy had done for her and nearly put the bridle on himself. This was something a little bit strange in itself. The horses on their ranch seemed to be eager to be with their riders rather than the way that she had always had to chase down and force a bit into the mouth of the horses they rode in college. She recalled Amy’s irritation at the habit, which she had never understood before. Up until she had arrived at the ranch, she believed that it was a part of going to ride. Now, however, she knew different. It’s funny how perceptions can change?

  “How was your night?” he continued his one sided conversation. “You’re looking good this morning. Are you eager to get going? We have plenty to do.”

  She listened to the conversation and fought back a giggle as she tried to stay hidden in the stall.

  “Well, are you going to answer?” he said.

  Surely he didn’t expect the horse to answer. Was he some sort of magic horse that actually spoke to him? He acted like it, but she knew that it wasn’t possible. There was no possible way that he had discovered that she was there.

  “Playing shy this morning or do you think that I don’t know that you’re hiding in that stall?” he chuckled.

  How the hell did he know? What kind of man could see through walls? She knew damned well that he hadn’t seen her. Whatever the case, he certainly knew where she was, there was no point hiding any longer. “Good morning,” she said, trying to be casual.

  “Amy said you could take Sandy if you wanted to go with me,” he said, as though it was nothing new.

  How the hell did Amy know? This was too freaking weird. They seemed to know everything. She had to ask. “How did she know?”

  “I called and asked her after I saw you slip down here,” he said. “You wanted to go work cattle today or just go for a ride?”

  He was continuing on like it was a normal morning. To him maybe it was, but she was still struggling with the fact that she had surprised him at all. “You saw me come down here?”

  “My dear,” he said casually. “A fly don’t wiggle his ears on this place without me noting it. Seen you watching me every morning from the kitchen window for the last week.”

  How the hell? He had never even looked her way. It simply wasn’t possible. She took the bridle that he handed her and went to fetch Sandy. He was already saddled and was strapping on his spurs when she returned to saddle her horse with the saddle that Amy had told her was hers for as long as she needed it. Her mind was still swirling with questions about the cowboy as she worked at cinching it in place on Sandy’s back.

  She liked the fact that he didn’t step in and make her feel helpless like most men would have. She knew how to saddle a horse and didn’t need his help. He respected that and didn’t try to interfere. There were more and more little things that were coming together about the man which continued to draw her toward him.

  “There’s an old pair of chaps that used to be Amy’s hanging on a peg in the tack room next to that extra rope,” he said as he started to buckle on his own pair of chaps. “You better bring both. First, put these on.” He handed her a pair of spurs.

  She had never seen a pair of spurs, but she had seen them before. She wasn’t sure that she had the heart to use them. “I can’t jab those into this horse,” she said. “It’s cruel.”

  “You completely misunderstand spurs then,” he replied casually. “These horses are trained with cues he explained. “There are cues that you send with your hands down through the reins, cues that come from your knees and cues that come from a tickle with spurs. They aren’t for punishment or discipline; they are for signaling your intentions.”

  “Oh,” she replied simply, accepting the spurs and kneeling to buckle them to her boots.

  “Better put the buckles on the outside or they’ll rub a blister on your feet,” he instructed softly.

  “Thanks,” she replied. She realized that he was a gentle teacher who assumed nothing, instructed honestly and yet still carried firmness in his directions came from a deep confidence and steady character. The picture of the drunk was fading rapidly as she began to see a completely different picture forming. She got down the chaps and hesitated to take down the rope as well. When she came out of the tack room, he reached out for the rope and tied it to her saddle.

  “We might have to take those in a little where they buckle on your legs,” he said. “Amy was a little chubbier than you are.”

  She noticed that his face seemed to redden a little with the implied admission that he had checked out her legs. She knew he had, but it was somehow charming to realize that in a roundabout way he had paid her a compliment. Amy was gorgeous and had what Reenie considered a perfectly proportioned body. To be more fit than Amy was quite flattering.

  “How are they?” he asked as she finished attaching the snaps and stood.

  “They’re okay,” she replied.

  “I better make sure,” he said. “We’ve got a long day ahead of us and anything that doesn’t fit right now will cause a hell of a lot of pain by dark tonight.”

  He didn’t hesitate and wait for her answer, but she soon felt his fingers adjusting the straps around her thighs. If she had been aroused before, perhaps ever in her life, it didn’t hold a candle to the arousal that she had in that moment. His firm hands were brushing against her thighs in a casual, industrious manner and she felt herself longing for him to be working on them and other intimate parts in a little more sensual manner.

  “That ought to do,” he said, standing again. His face was serious and revealed no sense of having been turned on by the close proximity of a very intimate part of her anatomy. He seemed to be concentrating on other things.

  They were ready to go, mounted and on their way out of the ranch yard when she noticed the rope on her saddle. What the hell was she going to do with a rope? “I don’t know how
to use a rope,” she mentioned casually as he led off at a fast-paced trot.

  “Guess it’s about time you learned then,” he said, turning toward her grinning.

  CHAPTER 8

  Had she been able to read Matt’s thoughts, she would have understood that he was far from as casual as he appeared on the outside. Inside he was a bundle of nerves and turmoil, however, those feelings would do him no good at all and so, he was able to master them and keep them under control as they carried on about the business of the day.

  He had fought back the urge that surged up inside of him when he had lingered about her tight, round ass, adjusting the straps of the chaps to fit her trim, toned legs with perfect success. Had he not been able to control himself, he would only be proving that he was the disgusting pervert that he hate come to hate in past few weeks. Was it perverted to notice an attractive woman and a well-toned figure? Was it perverted to be turned on by it?

  As they rode quietly over the hills to find the cattle that he wanted to move to another pasture, he took all of these things into consideration. She drew him like no other woman ever had. At first, he thought it was his pity and self loathing which caused it; a sense of owing her something, but as things progressed, he realized that there were qualities about her that he admired. In short, she was a good deal like his sister. She didn’t have quite the cool confidence that his sister had, but the potential was there. With a little time in the saddle, she would likely become the woman that her sister was and maybe more; plenty more for him, if he kept his head together.

  If he kept his head together and worked on their friendship, whatever was to come would happen naturally, to him that was much better than trying to force things. “So, where’d you grow up?” he asked, slowing the pace to a steady walk so that they could talk. It was the beginning of a conversation that lasted the entire day, whenever they weren’t forced apart by a yearling attempting to wander out of the bunch or some other task that needed attending to.

  By mid-afternoon, they had moved beyond conversation about each other’s lives and she was learning how to use the rope attached to her saddle. At first, she only managed to tangle herself up in it, which resulted in uncontrollable hysterical laughter which made it next to impossible to continue the lesson, however, in time and with plenty of patience on his part, she was able to swing it clear and toss the loop a few times at some piece of brush.

  “The trick that you need to learn is how to catch a critter’s heels,” he said after she had gotten the hang of it after countless number of attempts.

  “Catch a critter’s heels?” she looked at him quizzically.

  “Yeah, sort of like this,” he answered. He deftly slipped the rope off of his saddle and a loop magically appeared in his hand. It certainly hadn’t been that easy for her. He swung it over his head three times and tossed it in front of the hind legs of the animal nearest them at the drag of the herd of cattle they were following. The animal stepped into the loop and Matt pulled it up tight and wrapped the tail of his rope around the horn on the front of his saddle, held the animal a moment and then let him go. The loop slipped to the ground and the animal stepped free.

  “You try it,” he said. His hands had withdrawn the rope, coiled it and built another loop it what seemed like nearly a mere portion of a second.

  “How do you do that so easily?” she asked.

  “What?” he asked.

  “You did all of that in like, ten seconds,” she said.

  “Oh, I did?” he replied. “I don’t know. I’ve been doing it a long time. It’s second nature to me now. I suppose I’ve done this a hundred thousand times since I was a kid.”

  Her attempts were less successful than his, but she had the stubborn determination of her ancestry pushing her along and she eventually was able to drop the loop, though perhaps by pure luck under the feet of the animal and pull up the slack. She was entirely shocked and completely forgot the entire process.

  “You better get your dallies,” he called to her when he saw her make the catch and pull up the slack. She had caught only one hind leg.

  “My what?” she asked. She saw the seriousness on his face and wondered what she had done wrong.

  “Wrap the rope on your saddle horn,” he said. “Quickly or you’ll get a burn on your han…”

  The word hadn’t completely left her mouth before she felt the fire from the rope slipping through her hand. She dropped it immediately and the animal disappeared along with her rope attached to a hind leg into the herd.

  Matt rode into the herd swinging the loop over his head and tossed it over the horns of the steer that she had caught. He took his dallies and then waited for her. “Now, listen careful,” he said. I need you to slip off of your horse and come climb on in front of me.”

  His tone was pure business and had a sort of command to it that she simply couldn’t ignore. The butterflies danced inside of her to the point of nausea as she slipped up into the saddle in front of him. She was terrified. The steer was fighting at the other end of the rope and Charlie had his feet set firmly in front of him.

  “Now, I’m going to hand you the tail of the rope and you need to hold onto it. Put this on first,” he handed her a leather glove that seemed to be almost double the size of her hand, but she slipped it on anyway. “Alright, now I’m going to slip off. You hold that rope in place and Charlie will do the rest. Got it?”

  “Yes,” she answered weakly.

  “You gotta hold onto it,” he restated firmly as he slipped to the ground and looked up at her. “If you let go, we’ll have a hell of a mess. Can you do it?”

  “I think so,” she said. Her nerves had a hell of a mess of their own to sort out, but she had good ancestry in her that wouldn’t allow her to give up easily. The tight grip on the rope, in spite of the glove, hurt the burned place on her hand, but she wouldn’t disappoint him.

  “That a girl,” he grinned. In the penetrating look of his eyes, she felt confidence and trust in her being displayed. She had never seen that look in a man’s eyes before. Though all it did in the moment was to make her want to hold on tight to the rope, but she would discover later that it was the very moment in which she had fallen in love with him.

  Without another word, he turned and took up Sandy’s reins and made a wide circle around behind the steer, picked up her rope from the ground, mounted Sandy and tied it to the horn on the saddle. He eased Sandy back until the steer had the hind leg stretched out behind him and was standing helpless between the taut strength of the two horses.

  He stepped off of Sandy’s back and moved up the rope to the steer, grasping the tail and pulled him over onto his side. Once he had the steer on his side, he kneeled on his flank to hold him down, and then reached for the rope attached to the hind leg, while in the same moment calling to the black gelding. The gelding took a couple of steps forward, his ears tuned, alert and ready to heed Matt’s command.

  Reenie looked on in total amazement at the complete trust that was being shared between Matt, herself and the two horses. She could envision dozens of bad things happening, but she could also see that the horses didn’t seem to be inanimate objects in the situation, but were constantly thinking, moving and reacting of their own accord, alert to adjust to the situation as the need arose.

  In only a moment, with slack in the rope, Matt quickly slipped it free of the steer’s leg and had moved up to a position on the steer’s neck. Once he was in control, he looked up at her. “Ease him forward,” he instructed. “Don’t let go of the rope, just touch him a little with your spurs and he’ll know what to do.”

  She touched Charlie’s ribs with the spurs and he took several steps forward allowing the rope to go slack in front of them. She saw Matt slip the loop off of the steer’s horns, toss it free and then let the steer stand up. He was a bit dazed for a second, but quickly recovered and trotted back into the herd which had scattered across the valley.

  “You can let go of the rope now,” he said as he approach
ed her. “Good job. You not only made your first catch, but you got to learn a little bit more in the process. You did great.”

  “I did?” she replied. She discovered that she had been shaking and that her nerve had brought her to a point where they would have made a lesser woman faint straight away. With the sound of his voice and what it communicated to her, she began to return to normal, letting go of the rope as understanding began to register.

  “How’s your hand?” he asked.

  She hadn’t thought of her hand until he mentioned it and it began to burn in the very same moment. She pulled off the glove and looked at the raw burn on her palm.

  “Let me see,” he said standing on the ground on the off side of the horse with the magically coiled rope in his hand. When did he do that? The thought came and went quickly as he took her hand into his to examine it. “Oh that’s a beauty,” he grinned up at her. “Good one to remind you to dally.”

  She sort of wanted him to baby her a little bit, but he merely turned to go fetch her rope and quickly had it coiled and reattached to her saddle while she was yet allowing herself to calm down in the comfortable seat on Charlie’s back. She was brought out of her contemplation by his voice.

 

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