Slow Hand (Hot Cowboy Nights, #1)(30)

“What do you know about cows?”

“Nothing,” she confessed. “But what am I going to do alone in Virginia City? There must be some way I can make myself useful to you.”

He considered her with pursed lips. “All right,” he conceded at last. “I’m sure if I chew on it long enough I’ll come up with something. Besides”—he grinned shamelessly—“it will piss Dirk off to no end when I show up with you in tow.”

*

It was almost two o’clock when they got back to the ranch.

“Damn!” Wade cursed as soon as they pulled into the yard.

“What’s wrong?” Nikki asked.

“The pickup and ATV are both gone. I was hoping the ol’ man would’ve come back by now, but he must still be out moving cattle with Dirk. I’d best get out there before Mama skins me alive for letting him overtax himself.” He shot her an apologetic look. “You don’t mind, do you? I hope to be only a few hours. Mama will be only too happy to bear you company. Just don’t let her jaw your ear off about me.”

He grabbed his hat, a pair of leather gloves, and a Sherpa-lined denim jacket from the backseat. After helping her out of the truck, he started briskly toward the barn. Nikki almost had to skip to keep up. “I thought I was going with you,” she protested.

“That was before; when I thought we’d have use of the ATV. As it stands, I’ve got to do this the old-fashioned way.” He jerked his head in the direction of the pipe corrals.

“You mean with horses?”

“Yeah.”

Nikki could hardly contain her excitement. “Let me come along. I won’t slow you down.”

He regarded her skeptically. “Do you ride?”

“Yes. I ride. For the record, Wade, I can’t stand tobacco-dipping, beer-swilling, swaggering cowboys. I never said I held it against the horses. In fact, I never said jack about horses. I happen to be very fond of them. I’ve ridden since I was a kid. I even had a pony that my Grandpa kept for me.”

“On the chicken farm in Lavonia?”

“Yes. Until I outgrew him. After the pony, I used to muck stalls at a riding stable just to ride the horses.”

“A working cow horse is a whole different animal from a show pony, Nikki.”

“I know my way around a horse,” she insisted. “I’ll prove it to you. If I can’t keep up, you can send me right back.”

“All right, you win. I don’t have the time or the energy to argue with you. We’ve got a couple of old geldings in the herd that are good babysitters. Redman or Copenhagen will take care of you…just don’t fall off and break something.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” she replied.

“What about your clothes?” he asked. “There’s no time to change.”

“What’s wrong with my clothes? They’re comfortable jeans and I’m wearing sturdy boots.”

He eyed her backside. “You aren’t wearing a thong are you?”

She spun her ass away from him. “What business is it of yours what kind of underwear I have on?”

“Because a thong’ll likely rub you raw in very delicate places.”

“Why don’t you worry about your own delicate places, cowboy, and let me worry about mine?” Nikki snapped. The implication, that he’d taken other thong-wearing women out on long rides, was what really chafed her.

“Suit yourself.” He shrugged. “But don’t come crying to me later.”

Wade spun toward the barn and disappeared into a huge tack room with walls adorned with saddle and blanket racks, and miscellaneous bridlery. Following him inside, Nikki drank in the old familiar scents of oiled leather and horse sweat.

He pulled a fleece-lined oilskin drover off a coat rack and tossed it to her. “Here. It’s Mama’s. Might be a little big, but best take it.”

“It’s at least seventy-five degrees, clear and sunny.”

“The weather here can change at the drop of a hat and the temperature plummets once the sun goes down. Even in summer it can hit the forties.” He handed her a pair of leather gloves. “This time of year it can get even colder, well below freezing in the high country.”

“You expect us to be out that long?” He took a rifle down from its rack. Nikki frowned. “What’s that for?”

“Out here you have to anticipate anything and everything.” Suddenly all business, he turned toward the saddles. “Do you know how to tack up?”

“It’s been a while, but I’m sure I can manage.” Nikki looked at the saddles with consternation. “Which one should I take?”

He grinned. “Whichever you think you can carry.”

Nikki scowled at him and then grabbed the horn and cantle of the first one she could reach. One strong tug pulled it free of the rack—and nearly knocked her on her ass. “Good golly! How much does this sucker weigh?”

“I’d say close to half of what you do. It’s a roping saddle, designed to stand up to the rigors of working cattle. You’d best let me take it.” He tossed it over his shoulder with ease, and then jerked his chin toward the opposite wall. “You can get the halters, bridles, and blankets.”

She gathered up the ones he indicated, following him out to the pipe corrals where about two dozen horses were penned. She hung up the bridle, took the halter in hand, and climbed up and over the rails. A pretty palomino mare caught Nikki’s eye. “Look at you!” she crooned. “Such a pretty girl.”