Cowboys And Cradles. Sharon Swan
the big boss. Because the title amused her, and because she was sure it would not amuse the “head honcho,” Eve smiled. “Why don’t we get started?”
Cody nodded his agreement. “Come in through the gate next to the stable and I’ll introduce you to Buttercup.”
If the long-suffering look in her eyes was any indication, Buttercup wasn’t overjoyed to meet her owner, and Eve decided the feeling was mutual after a frustrating hour of coaxing the mare around the corral and achieving no more than a snail’s pace.
Finally she’d had it. She halted at the spot where Cody leaned against the fence. “There have to be horses on this place with a little more zip.”
He nudged his hat back and gazed up at her. “Buttercup’s the one the head honcho picked out for you, Miz Eve.”
That information didn’t merit a second thought, not as far as she was concerned. “Well, I’m ready to pick something else. I’ve got the basics down, but I’ll never get beyond them if the Old Gray Mare won’t even break into a trot.”
Cody pushed away from the fence. “Guess you have a point. But the head—”
“I’ll deal with him,” Eve assured the ranch hand, and went on before he could offer any further objection. “Let’s look at some of the other horses.”
There were three in the stable, she found as they entered through wide double doors with Buttercup trailing behind. The huge stallion she’d almost collided with occupied the first stall they came to. He snorted a greeting.
“This is Lucky,” Cody said. “He belongs to Ryder Quinn. No one else rides him,” he added hastily, as though he were afraid she might decide to do exactly that.
She ran her tongue around her teeth to foil a grin and moved on. The two remaining occupants were less impressive than Lucky, she had to admit. Still, they had to be more lively than Buttercup. She’d parted her lips, ready to ask a question about a cinnamon-colored horse, when a high-pitched whinny drew her attention to the back of the building.
“That’s Sable,” Cody told her as she turned toward the sound. “She’s only been here a few weeks. Could be they’ll hitch her up with Lucky when the time’s right.”
Sable. A fitting name, Eve decided after walking forward for a closer look. Black as coal and sleek as satin, the mare pranced to the front of the stall, then tilted her head at a playful angle and blew out a soft breath. Obviously far beyond lively, she was a strong, spirited mixture of muscle and grace. And a beautiful, dark-eyed flirt, as well.
Eve was entranced. “Does she belong to Ryder Quinn, too?”
“No, she’s yours,” Cody replied, moving to stand next to her.
Hers. Up to that moment she’d considered the animals that had come with the ranch as merely part of the property. Now she knew just how wrong she’d been. There was a bond here, she realized, and with it came responsibility. Ultimately the fate of this and every other animal she owned rested with her. And, when it came to this particular one, there was also a thrill of possession she couldn’t deny.
She reached up and gently rubbed the mare’s ebony forehead, watching as dark eyes viewed her with a saucy gleam. “I want to ride her.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Miz Eve.” Cody’s easygoing manner abruptly turned serious. “Sable can be a handful when she sets her mind to it.”
Eve dropped her arm and turned to face him. “Are you saying she’s dangerous?”
“No,” he admitted reluctantly. “Just…frisky.”
One corner of Eve’s mouth quirked up. “Hmm. Maybe even…sassy?”
He lifted a hand to rub the back of his neck. “Yeah, I suppose.”
That did it. In a flash, the prospect of riding Sable became irresistible. “Saddle her up, Cody Bodeen.”
He let out a resigned sigh. “The head honcho’s probably gonna be teed off when he finds out about this.”
“And I told you I’d deal with him,” she countered smoothly yet firmly. “Remember, I’m the big boss.”
Another high whinny seconded that statement.
Chapter Three
Ryder had spent the better part of the day dealing with bankers and was glad to be back at the ranch, out of a suit and dressed in his usual denim. Not that he regretted the lengthy questions he’d answered or the stack of forms he’d filled out. They’d tried his patience, but his spirits were far from dampened. With any luck at all, the extra financing he needed would be at his disposal by the time Eve Terry decided to throw in the towel.
Maybe her riding lesson this afternoon would speed her on her way, he thought as he parked his dark-blue pickup along one side of the ranch house stable and swung to the ground in a single, easy movement. To him the world was made up of two kinds of people: those who genuinely loved horses, and those who were convinced they loved horses until they’d spent a few hours on the back of one. If Eve was part of the last group, her nose would have already wrinkled at a good whiff of horse sweat, not to mention the barnyard smell of horse sh—
A woman’s laugh, soft and light, broke into Ryder’s reflections. If it was Eve—and who else could it be?—she seemed to be enjoying herself. Well, she just might be, even if she was in that second group, he conceded with a shrug, since he’d handpicked the oldest and slowest mare on the place for her first lesson. Buttercup didn’t move fast enough to work up a sweat.
Next time, assuming Eve was game for another lesson, he’d have to pick something a bit more challenging. Not too much, though. He didn’t want her to break her neck. He just wanted her gone.
But when Ryder moved past the stable and got a view of the corral, he was ready to break someone’s neck, or at least wring it for a satisfying moment. Zeb Hollister’s immediately came to mind. The old wrangler was supposed to be riding herd on the ranch’s new owner, and here she was, clearly having a grand time smiling down on young Cody Bodeen, who was checking her stirrup and managing to get very close to a shapely leg in the process—a leg clenched around a horse Eve had no business being on.
Three long, rapid strides took him to the edge of the fence. “What the hell is going on here?”
The black mare reacted first, surging up on her hind legs to paw the air. Cody’s swift tug on her bridle brought her back on all fours, and it took him another moment to bring her to a complete standstill. Then he faced Ryder with a wary look.
“I know I’m supposed to be up on the north range, but Zeb wasn’t able to give Miz Eve her riding lesson.” He rushed on to explain what had happened. “So with you and Zeb gone,” he added, “I offered to help.”
And avoided hunting strays at the same time, Ryder thought. His steely gaze didn’t waver. “And just how did Miz Eve—” he copied Cody’s twang for those last words “—wind up on a horse you know damn well she shouldn’t be on?”
“I’m riding Sable because I wanted to,” Eve said calmly, interrupting before the younger man could reply. “In fact, I ordered Cody to saddle her up.”
Ryder turned his gaze on her, not softening it in the slightest. “You ordered him?”
“Yes,” she replied in that same calm tone. “The mare you picked should be put out to pasture, since she’s probably old enough to collect Social Security.” One tawny eyebrow rose. “Or did you bring her out of retirement solely for my benefit?”
He had, but he wasn’t about to admit it. “Buttercup,” he replied with what he felt was admirable restraint, “is the right horse for a beginner.”
“And I began with her. Now I’m ready for something else.”
“That