it bad.”
Finally Deck swung smoothly onto Brandy’s back. The horse went still, reared, staggered backward, then lurched around the corral.
Callie tried to turn Wiley out of the way, but Brandy was too fast and banged into her horse’s rump. Wiley lunged forward, throwing Callie onto his neck. Her hat flew off and her pubic bone slammed into the saddle pommel. She yelped as pain burned through her.
“You okay?” Deck called, more worried about her than the rearing, spinning beast beneath him.
“I’m fine,” she choked out, needing to rub her bruised spot, but not wanting to do it in front of Deck.
“Hold tight. We’ll be back after we burn off some energy.” Deck leaned over Brandy’s neck and she took off out of the gate in a streak of shining muscle. Deck gave the horse her head, and they flew west across the field, making Callie’s heart lift at the beauty of horse and rider silhouetted against the changing colors of the sunset sky.
A horse running full out was an amazing sight. It was the fire, the energy, the way the creature’s whole being seemed focused on the run, like its heart would burst with the joy of it. Callie’s chest tightened. How had she forgotten this wonder?
Horse and rider were small in the distance when they finally swung back her way. By the time they reached the gate, Deck had Brandy in a relaxed lope and guided her effortlessly into the corral. Near the far fence, he leaned down to scoop up Callie’s Stetson, easy as a rodeo star. He returned to settle it on her head. His gaze took a lazy trip down her body, making her want to wiggle in the saddle. “You all set?”
She nodded. Soon they were on their way, riding in silence at first. Clouds to the west glowed pink, orange and purple. The air held a slight chill, and a light breeze carried the green scent of the Rio Feliz their way.
“We can go faster if you want,” she said. “I’m okay.”
“Slow and easy is fine.” He looked at her. “You were never much for taking your time.”
Her mind flashed on their frantic nights in each other’s arms. She swallowed hard. “Not usually, no.”
“If you rush, you miss things.”
“If you don’t rush, you miss things.”
He chuckled. “Ah, but when you slow down you catch all the details. You take it all in, enjoy every second, every inch.”
God, was he talking about sex? Or was she just fixated? She got that shivery feeling again. It didn’t help that the seam of her jeans rubbed her crotch with each roll of Wiley’s hindquarters. She shifted her weight to ease the itch.
“You okay?” Deck asked.
“I’m fine. Why?” She jerked her gaze to his.
“You seem…wiggly.” He swallowed and she realized her movements had aroused him. Good. It was no fun suffering alone.
“Just adjusting so I won’t be sore later.”
“Wouldn’t want that,” he said, pushing his hat harder onto his head. “Maybe hit the hot springs after. Good for sore muscles.”
And making love, she remembered. They’d been together at the springs and it had been warm and intimate and healing. “I’ll have to try that.” Her voice came out so husky she had to clear her throat. “Brandy seems more settled.”
“Getting there.”
“Dahlia sure was relieved not to have to ride with us.”
“True.” Deck chuckled. “She’s not much on the ranch.”
“What do you think of her?”
He shot his gaze to hers. “Cal’s fond of her.”
“And…”
“I don’t know her well,” he said, clearly choosing his words with care. “She keeps him…busy.”
“I found her kind of overwhelming, but she was nervous about meeting me. You were right about the peppermint tea, by the way. Her other teas are nasty?”
“Oh, yeah. She gave me one that was supposed to be good for my organs. Shriveled my tongue and I couldn’t taste for a day.”
“But did it help your organs?” Too late, she realized how he might take that.
“They survived.” He shot her that wicked half smile again. “I’m sure she means well. Cal seems happy enough.”
“He does. And kind of…dazed.”
“Maybe that’s how love works. Like a punch in the solar plexus you never catch your breath from. What do I know?”
Did that mean he’d never been in love, either?
They’d reached a barbed wire fence, beyond which she saw dozens of cattle, brown and black, most bent to chew the grass. Several rested under the roof of a ramada, others drank from a water trough beneath a slowly turning windmill. She used to ride out to check the herd with her father. She’d loved the huge eyes, the patient faces, the slow grind of their jaws on grass.
Tell him you’re selling them all. She opened her mouth to break the news, but an animal bellowed loudly. They both looked over to see a bull mount a cow, which staggered under the weight, but didn’t move away.
“Ah, romance,” Deck said.
“Is that what you call it?”
“No?” he asked. “Maybe that’s my problem with women.”
She laughed. “You have problems? I find that hard to believe.”
“I do all right, I guess.”
“No one special?” None of her business, but she had to ask.
“Not really. How about you?”
“We broke up a couple months back. He’s my business partner, actually.”
“Ouch. That’s got to be awkward.”
“Not as much as you’d think.” And that still bothered her. “So how many head do we have?”
“Couple hundred, mostly black Angus, a few red. A decent number of wild Corriente from Mexico. They do well with drought. Not nearly enough cow-calf pairs, though.”
“The supplemental feed costs are through the roof, Deck.”
“That’ll be offset by the alfalfa we’ll plant. The real problem is the herd is down. Like I said, your dad’s been hard to pin down. We had a chance at a bunch of steers and some pairs, but I couldn’t get his okay on the buy.”
Just as well, since we’ll be selling….
Deck dismounted to open the gate and she saw they’d be heading to the top of the hill over the river. She’d
