Wind River Wrangler (Wind River Valley #1)(55)

A week had passed since kissing Roan. As she used the hoof pick to clean out Charley’s hooves, her mind and heart were never far from Roan. Oh, he’d been circumspect and, as promised, made no move to become intimate with her since that blazing, sky-opening kiss they’d shared on the porch of his cabin.

Shiloh was glad that she’d not only worn jeans, cowboy boots, and a long-sleeved orange tee, but also had added a heavy sheep’s wool vest and her green nylon coat on top of that. Her fingers were near freezing by the time she was done with her gelding’s hooves. Looking up, she saw Roan outside with his big black quarter horse gelding, Diamond, checking the cinch before he mounted up. Her heart swelled with so many happy emotions. Hurrying around Charley, she unhooked the panic snaps and let the cross ties fall against the walls. Patting his black-and-white paint neck, she ruffled his thick mane. Charley’s ears flicked back and forth. He might be fifteen years old, but the cold morning made even him friskier than usual.

“Come on, Charley,” she clucked, pulling at the reins, leading him out to where Roan sat slouched comfortably in the saddle. His gray Stetson pulled low over his eyes, his profile rugged. Diamond was pawing the earth, raising dust, wanting to go. Her gaze just naturally fell to that wonderfully strong, well-shaped mouth of Roan’s. Shiloh saw him turn, his gaze meeting hers. She felt herself go hot with longing, her body clenching. The man could make her melt with just that calm stare of his.

“Ready?” Roan asked.

“Yep,” Shiloh said, quickly mounting up. Laughing to herself, she’d become relaxed around horses and riding. A few weeks ago, she’d been paralyzed over the idea of riding. She had on a red baseball cap that Maud had given her and drew the bill down, trying to shade her eyes from the bright sunlight flooding the valley. Giving him a quick smile, Shiloh pulled on her leather gloves, wanting to get her fingers warm. “Lead the way.”

Nodding, Roan barely touched the barrel of his gelding and the horse walked eagerly toward the pastures in the distance.

“Ever been around buffalo before?” he asked her as they rode side by side.

Shaking her head, Shiloh saw that they were going to ride between two huge pastures. “No. Why?”

Roan, who had just shaved and nicked himself earlier, carefully rubbed his jaw. “We’ll be going to drive them into another pasture. It’s June and the mother’s are calving. The bulls aren’t with them, but the mothers can be very protective of their young calf.”

“Okay. What does that mean to a city slicker like me?” she asked, and flashed him a grin. Roan’s mouth barely lifted. The lush greenness of the pastures infused Shiloh. Overhead, she saw a red-tailed hawk flying in higher and higher circles in the sky. There were bluebirds everywhere, many of them sitting on fence posts. When they took off, that flash of brilliant blue always made her gasp with delight; it was almost an unearthly gorgeous color.

“Don’t get Charley between a calf and its mother,” Roan warned her. “Buffalo are a twitchy lot by temperament anyway. And cows are very protective of their young in a situation they consider threatening.”

Worried, Shiloh said, “Maybe I shouldn’t even be in there. I’m not that great a rider.”

“Just stay behind me or on the outside of me and you should be all right,” he assured her. “A couple of other wranglers are going to be meeting us and the three of us will do the herding. I thought you might enjoy seeing buffalo, being that you’re a city slicker and all,” he said, and one corner of his mouth hooked slightly as he gazed over at Shiloh.

Shiloh chewed on her lower lip, not so sure. She saw the gleam of confidence in Roan’s eyes. He believed she could do it. “I’m a poor rider.”

“Charley is old and wise. Just let him take care of you. Hold on to the saddle horn if it makes you feel better.”

She had been trying not to do that because she wanted to appear able to ride without clinging like a greenhorn. “He would know what to do?”

Roan nodded. “Yes. Before Maud put him in the dude ranch as a child’s horse, he was a damn good wrangling gelding the first twelve years of his life. He knows buffalo and cattle. You’ll be safe on board him.”

“Okay,” she murmured, not sounding very sure of herself even to her own ears.

“You can stay outside the gate if you want.” Roan saw the anxiety coming to Shiloh’s eyes as they approached the pasture. He pulled Diamond to a halt at the gate and dismounted.

Shiloh was looking at all the brown humped buffalo cows and their frolicking calves. It looked bucolic. But the animals were huge! She saw about half a mile away, on the opposite side of the pasture, two wranglers opening up a large gate to allow the mothers and calves access to the area. Roan picked up his radio and talked to the other wranglers. Seesawing between staying outside the gate and following Roan in, she saw him finish off his chat with the wranglers.

Stuffing the radio into his saddlebags, Roan looked up at Shiloh. “Well?”

“I’m waffling.”

He grinned. “Yes, you are.”

Making a face, Shiloh admitted, “I don’t want you to think I’m a weenie.”

Chuckling, Roan lifted his hat and moved his gloved fingers through his hair. “I would never think that, Shiloh.” He came over and rested his hand against the rear of her saddle, looking up into her indecisive features. “I’ll respect you no matter what you decide. Okay?”