Mustang Wild. Stacey Kayne

hers long enough to cause a series of flutters in her stomach, which spiraled up through her body and straight to her head when he flashed those pearly white teeth of his.

      In a burst of motion, Skylar grabbed her journal and straightened away from the table. “Let’s get to Wyoming.” She started for the door, silently cursing the tingling surge she felt clear to the soles of her feet. Did he realize how incredibly charming he was?

      Skylar groaned inwardly, disgusted by her thoughts. “Lord, I must be touched in the head.”

      He’s not charming. He’s arrogant, and he knows exactly what he’s doing. The man was a flirt, plain and simple. He was the sort who flirted with anything female. She’d make it known she didn’t care to be a part of any such behavior.

      She stopped beside the spotted mare tethered outside the corral. The mustang snorted and flattened her ears. “That’s the idea,” she said, smiling at the hostile signals coming from the ornery mare. She’d keep it clear that she wasn’t interested in Tucker’s fallen-angel smiles.

      “You’re going to ride that paint?”

      Skylar jumped at the sound of Tucker’s rich voice then spun to face him. Damn the man! She shouldn’t be feeling the strange sensations that swirled inside her whenever she caught his gaze. “Do you have a problem with my riding this mare?”

      “No, ma’am,” he said, raising his hands and backing away from her as though she’d drawn her gun on him. “You go ahead and lead the way.”

      Listening to his low laugh as he walked toward his horse, Skylar wondered what she was so worried about.

      In the past three days they’d covered far more desert ground than Tucker could have imagined possible. Finished roping off the mares, Tucker followed Chance toward their saddled horses staked near one the few patches of sand not littered with cacti and scrub. In the distance, white dunes rose up against an opaque sky, making it impossible to tell where earth ended and sky began.

      “Who’s taking care of supper tonight?” Chance asked as they began removing their saddles. “You or me?”

      “I’ll give it a shot,” Tucker said, figuring Chance could use the break after handling the chore for the past two nights. Skylar had made it clear that her job pertained strictly to the horses.

      “Garret, wait!”

      Tucker’s gaze whipped around at the sharp sound of Skylar’s voice. She ran toward the packhorses. Fifteen yards away, Garret stood beside a mule, releasing the ropes over a sack of supplies that more than doubled his weight. Skylar reached over the boy’s head, grabbing a heavy pack before it took the kid to the ground. Together they eased the large canvas sack down.

      Garret flashed a sheepish grin as his sister gave him a light scolding. The kid’s smile brightened as she reached out and ruffled his white hair, saying something Tucker couldn’t make out. Garret gave a sharp nod before running off to do whatever she’d asked of him.

      Tucker grinned and turned back to his horse. He’d never seen a kid idolize his sister the way Garret did. But then, he’d never known a woman like Skylar. A born taskmaster, she didn’t have a speck of trouble maintaining his herd and distributing orders, all while riding circles around them and keeping a constant eye on Garret.

      Two nights back she’d surprised Tucker again by relieving him of his night watch just after midnight. He and Chance had been splitting the late-night and early-morning shifts, but Skylar didn’t cut herself any slack.

      “I’ll get a fire started,” Chance said as he walked away with his saddle slung over his shoulder.

      As Tucker finished with his horse, Skylar approached the saddled Arabian staked beside him. She drew a long breath as she stroked her hand across the horse’s black mane.

      Tucker figured three days of grueling riding and little sleep had to be catching up with her. As her hand drifted away from the stallion, her horse stepped back and nudged her arm with its muzzle, clearly wanting more of her touch.

      “Spoiled rotten,” she murmured, and stretched her arms around his big head, giving him a petting embrace she seemed to enjoy as much as the stallion. Her gentle smile didn’t hide the exhaustion Tucker could see in her eyes.

      The horse gave a snort of protest when she withdrew her caressing hands and stepped toward her saddle. “Chores first, you big hound,” she said, tugging at the cinch.

      “Can I give you a hand?” Tucker asked, moving beside her.

      The second she met his gaze, her soft expression soured right up. “No. Why would I need help removing my saddle?”

      “I just thought—” Tucker snapped his mouth shut, realizing he’d thought wrong. “Never mind.”

      Just another cowhand, he silently repeated. Normally, he wasn’t so slow.

      She turned her back to him. “Garret and I can handle the horses. You should probably get started on camp.”

      “Right.” After three days of the same routine, he was beginning to catch on. He’d clearly blown any chance they’d had at being friendly that night in the barn. If she wasn’t giving him orders, he was all but invisible.

      Too bad she wasn’t.

      By sundown, Chance had set up camp and Tucker had charred a couple of batches of biscuits and scorched a few jackrabbits. He certainly hadn’t done anyone any favors by volunteering to cook.

      Serving what was left of the food onto two plates, he covered the second with a tin and left it by the fire for Skylar. He took his plate and sat beside Chance. Garret sat on the other side of the fire, reclined against an embankment of sand, his face fixed with a frown as he tapped his fork against a piece of overcooked rabbit.

      “It’s meat, kid,” said Chance.

      “You sure?”

      “Fairly,” Chance answered, in the midst of some extensive chewing.

      Garret took a bite and grimaced.

      Tucker didn’t see how the kid could complain when their ramrod couldn’t do any better. Hearing the sound of Skylar’s approaching footsteps, he glanced through the darkness. Despite his efforts not to, Tucker watched as she walked into the warm firelight, not paying them any notice as she tossed her hat and gloves onto her pack and began removing her chaps.