“Easy, girl,” he murmured, running a hand across her thick, golden coat. He inspected the horse’s flank for any abrasions caused by Skylar’s spurs.
The mare didn’t have a mark on her.
“I didn’t bloody your horse, Morgan.”
Tucker glanced back at the woman standing behind him, her hands firmly planted on her hips, a coil of rope over one shoulder, her bullwhip coiled around the other. Narrowed blue eyes bore into him as he turned to face her.
Daines had either been a desperate man, incredibly brave or just plain stupid. If Daines hadn’t been killed by horse thieves, he surely would have had hell to pay when Skylar reached Wyoming and discovered he’d lied to her. Thanks to Zach Daines, Tucker was left to deal with her wrath.
“I didn’t accuse you of any such thing,” he said in an easy tone. “In fact, I’m impressed as hell by the way you handled this mare.”
“I’m just getting the job done. If you have a preference as to which horses you want gentled, say so now.”
“After watching you, I wouldn’t be surprised if you broke them all before we leave.”
“I don’t break horses, I train them.”
Tucker didn’t miss the sharp edge in her tone. “There’s a difference?” he asked, fully aware that there was and quite certain of her position between the two. Yet he was curious to hear Skylar’s take on the subject. Or maybe he enjoyed the incredulous expression that eased her harsh frown.
Her big blue eyes widened a fraction, her lips parted.
Full, pink lips.
For a shrew, she had the most kissable lips he’d ever seen.
“You say you own a horse ranch?” she asked.
“It’s a new business venture,” he explained, which was true. He’d gentled a few horses in his day, but he was far from being a skilled trainer. His field of expertise was tracking vermin. “Are you going to enlighten me or stand there and silently call me an idiot?”
She took her time in deciding. Then those pretty pink lips shifted into a slight grin, and Tucker felt a true sense of caution.
“A spirited horse with good training,” she said, “knows its job, can execute routine tasks with little to no prompting, and most importantly, has enough sense to know when a useless lump is riding on its back. A real intelligent horse will unload that useless baggage at the soonest opportunity. Pleasant creatures, really.”
Skylar’s tight smile told Tucker he’d been lumped into her useless-baggage category of riders. Although judging by her hostility, men in general occupied that category.
“A horse that’s been broken,” she continued, “has been bullied into doing its master’s bidding. Convinced it’s too stupid to think for itself, it relies on the rider for guidance. Unfortunate, and frequently disastrous. From my own observations, I’d choose horse sense over a cowboy’s any day.”
Tucker didn’t doubt it. “Why didn’t you take the spotted mare out first?”
Her blue eyes narrowed and Tucker had to fight a grin. She didn’t like being questioned. He was suddenly overwhelmed by curiosity, his mind filling with questions he couldn’t wait to have answered by his new horse trainer.
“She’s the strongest, most ill-tempered of the lot. But don’t worry, Morgan, she’ll be gentled. I’ll take her out just as soon as she wears herself out a bit more warming to that saddle. Like I said, if you have a preference with the others, say so now.”
“Miss Skylar, you can go ahead and pick and choose as you see fit.”
“Good.” She turned her back on him and opened the gate. Tucker watched her shrug the rope from her left shoulder and open her lasso as she spotted the mare she wanted. She tossed her rope, snaring the mare with an ease that came from years of practice. The kid hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d said his sister knew her business.
“Morgan, are you gonna come take this mare or am I working alone today?”
He tensed at her impatient tone. Lord, my brain must have been floating in whiskey when she walked into Big Jack’s. He wasn’t about to let her walk all over him.
He entered the corral and held his hand out to take the rope. “Is calling me ‘Morgan’ a shortcut so you don’t have to figure out which one of us you’re talking to?”
“No, Tucker.” She turned, leveling her gaze on him. “It’s supposed to keep things formal between us.”
Tucker couldn’t fight his smile, a small part of him liking that she recognized him from Chance, and mostly amused that she felt she needed anything other than her sweet disposition to keep their relationship strictly business. He quickly tied the mare to the fence outside the stall and went to retrieve another.
“So, what’s on the agenda, boss lady?” he asked, certain she had one.
“We’ll separate twelve horses to be gentled. One of you can help Garret rig them with cinches so they can get used to having their barrels strapped before we toss a saddle on them.” She grabbed another rope from a bundle on the fence. “The other can work with me.”
Tough choice. But he’d never been one to take the easy way out. “What are we gonna do?”
Her gaze flickered up, and Tucker swore he saw a smile in her eyes.
Seemed he wasn’t the only one who enjoyed a challenge.
“We get to teach your mustangs some manners,” she said.
“And we’ll work with the other eight tomorrow?” he asked.
Taken aback by his question, Skylar wondered just how much this handsome cowboy truly knew of horses. “No. We’ll work with the same twelve tomorrow.”
His pinched expression told her he didn’t like that answer.
“Morgan, you can either have twelve well-mannered horses, or twenty that won’t ride worth a damn. Your choice.”
“I hope you don’t think I’ll be leaving the others behind.”
Skylar hoped he didn’t plan on arriving in Wyoming with all twenty of his mares. They had plenty of wild territory to cross, and his band of horses would slow them down, making it nearly impossible to travel without being detected. Four measly horsemen certainly wouldn’t intimidate a band of thieves or hostile Indians into keeping their distance. Unsure of how Tucker would react to the prospect of such situations, she decided not to mention it. He’d catch on soon enough.
“You won’t have to leave any horses. The others will follow the more dominant of the group, but we need horses we can ride. I won’t put Garret on a wild mare, and I won’t kill our two stallions by pushing them too long and hard. When I’m finished, we’ll each have four horses, including our own mounts.”
Tucker’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re planning on doing some hard riding.”
“I plan to head out in two days and keep as fast a pace as possible.”
“Two days?”
“I already went over this with Chance, and he didn’t have a problem with leaving in two days. In fact, he seemed real pleased and said he’d ride out tomorrow to get supplies.”
“You’ll have twelve horses ready in two days?”
“I will.” She waited to hear him say she couldn’t. He surprised her by saying, “Then we bes’ get busy,” before he beamed one of his smiles.
She wished he wouldn’t do that. With his freshly shaven face all bronze and shiny, and the scent of shaving lather strong on his skin, Tucker