“Feels good,” she said.
He nodded. “Let’s go.” He led the mare outside to where he’d tied his mount.
The mare didn’t need guiding. She dutifully followed the gelding along a dirt track across an adjoining meadow.
They were heading toward a tree-lined ridge, Lyric realized. The ridge defined the beginning of forest and hills that rose ever upward. In the distance one peak stood above several others.
“Is that He-Devil Mountain?” she called to her escort.
He followed her line of sight. “Yes. There are seven peaks that form a sort of semicircle along Hells Canyon. He-Devil is the highest at a bit over 9300 feet.”
Hearing the staccato beat of hooves, Lyric looked over her right shoulder in time to see Trevor and the big stallion leap the stock fence of the pasture. They made a perfect picture against the brilliant azure of the sky as they sailed over the fence with a foot to spare.
Her heart rose with them and lodged in her throat, making it all but impossible to breathe.
“Trev was quiet for a long time after he returned from the rodeo circuit last October,” his twin remarked in a musing tone. “Some of us figured he’d met someone and fallen hard. Was that someone you?”
She tried to smile as if the idea was absurd, but it wouldn’t come. “What makes you think that?”
“Vibes. Or maybe it’s just that he’s quiet again this morning. I don’t think your aunt is the cause, so that leaves you.”
“There isn’t anything between us,” she managed to say.
His eyes, as blue as his twin’s, narrowed as he studied her. “I think there is.”
“He hates me.” The words, spoken aloud, were stark.
“Why don’t you two talk it over and clear things up?”
“I…I tried. I wrote him.”
Travis heaved an audible breath. “Yeah, he’s hard-headed. Don’t give up on him,” he advised.
“I’m only here because of my aunt. She wanted to visit.” The lie nearly stuck to her tongue. “Where are we going?” she asked to divert attention to their journey.
“The Devil’s Dining Room,” Travis said just as his twin rode up.
The stallion pressed close to the mare, crowding between her and the gelding as if establishing his claim. Trevor’s booted foot brushed hers. Even that brief contact was enough to send needles of fire along her leg.
She reined the mare away. “There seems to be a pattern of black markings on your ranch.” She spoke to Travis, but it was Trevor who answered.
“There is,” he said, letting the stallion take the lead while his twin fell in behind them on the gelding. “Your mount and the gelding are both out of a retired stud. The mare will be bred to Eb here when she’s ready.”
Lyric nodded stiffly. While familiar with all aspects of ranching, breeding and all that it implied were not topics she wanted to discuss with him.
The stallion tossed its head and pranced.
“He wants a run,” Trevor called. “You game?”
She considered her aches, but nodded anyway.
“Ready, set, go,” Travis yelled behind them.
The mare took off a split second after the stallion did, almost taking her rider by surprise. Lyric leaned forward as excitement gripped her.
The mare and stallion raced side by side across the wide meadow. Their hooves pounded in time with the beat of her pulse as she urged the mare on.
“Yi, yi, yi,” she heard Trevor shout, pushing the stallion to a faster pace.
Trevor and the stallion edged forward, outrunning her and the smaller horse. Lyric didn’t ask for more. She knew the mare was giving her all. Surprisingly they closed the gap and came abreast of the other two again.
Trevor looked over at her. Her heart did a somersault at the intensity of his stare. Then the larger horse stretched out and left them in the dust.
Lyric pulled up the mare and watched as the magnificent black beast ran like some mythical creature, hardly touching the ground as it flowed effortlessly with the wind. The rider seemed part of the magic, blending every movement with that of the stallion as they made a great circle.
At last, rider and mount, at a canter now, returned to her and the mare. Trevor’s twin, she saw, had gone back to the paddock. Without direction on her part, her horse again followed the other one.
They rode for an hour in silence, until they came upon a stream.
“Let them drink,” Trevor said.
She loosened the reins so the mare could dip her head into the tiny creek that wound down the ridge. After that, they rode on, heading for the top and coming out on a flat cliff that had a wonderful view of the ranch.
“The Devil’s Dining Room,” he said, dismounting.
Lyric did the same and ground-hitched her horse when he did. Trevor let her step up on a boulder, then onto a giant flat piece of granite that jutted over the cliff before he climbed up.
When he sat on the ledge and let his legs dangle over the side, she did, too, although not without misgivings.
“This rock has held all the Daltons at once without falling,” he told her.
“There’s always a first time,” she muttered, staring down into the lovely little valley. The ranch house looked like something for a doll from up here.
Gazing west, she observed the peaks spread out into the distance. “In Texas, you said the seven peaks were named for seven devils that used to come over and eat the children of the people here until Coyote changed them into mountains.”
“That’s the legend,” he agreed.
“He-Devil is the tallest. I saw the name on a road sign. Do the others have names?”
“The Devil’s Tooth, Mount Ogre, Mount Baal, the Tower of Babel, the Goblin.”
“That’s five, plus He-Devil. What’s the other one?”
He turned those blue eyes on her. Without blinking, he said, “She-Devil.”
It was the breeze, playfully tugging at their hats that finally broke their locked gazes and the silent struggle between them.
“Is that what you think of me?” she asked softly, as if by speaking the words that way, the answer might not hurt.
He set his hat more firmly on his head. “Does it matter?”
“Yes.”
Glancing
