The Last Cowboy. Lindsay McKenna
If she did, Slade wasn’t sure he could control his reaction to her the next time around. “Your mare at her float trot was doing seventeen, which is good.” He picked up his timer and showed it to her. “Your canter was about twenty miles an hour and that’s excellent.”
“Heck,” Jordana said, making sure she kept her hands on the reins, “Stormy has never been timed like this before. I know thoroughbreds can race at forty miles per hour. And quarter horses can run fifty in a quarter of a mile race.”
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