Wind River Wrangler (Wind River Valley #1)(57)
Maddy bawled and jerked to a halt, her nose stinging with pain. She turned, her thin tail twisting angrily, trying to avoid another warning slap of that lariat, digging her hind feet into the muddy pasture. She moved swiftly, barreling through the group of scattering cows and calves, aiming straight for the open gate at the far end of the pasture.
Shiloh watched as Roan pulled his horse to a stop, the animal breathing hard, its flanks bellowing in and out. He ran his hand down the gelding’s sweaty neck, talking soothingly to him. The horse calmed instantly, settling down, nostrils flared wide. Shiloh clucked to Charley and he took off at a sedate trot.
As Shiloh pulled up, she saw the other two wranglers flanking the herd from behind, making sure they all funneled through the gate into the new pasture. She smiled a little at Roan as he placed the lariat back into the leather strap, allowing it to hang on the right side of the saddle.
“That was really something. Did you know Maddy was going to charge you?”
Roan lifted his hat and used his forearm to wipe his brow. “Yes, she always charges somebody. We’ve learned to give her a target and that her nose is the most sensitive spot on her body. Hate having to hit her, but she doesn’t take no for an answer,” Roan said, and settled the hat on his head. “Maddy’s a good matriarch and there’s been times when the Snake River wolf pack has come sniffing around, and she’s chased them off.” He smiled a little. “She’s a good leader. Just doesn’t like wranglers, is all.”
Shiloh watched as the two cowboys dismounted and shut the gate to the other pasture. She returned her attention to Roan. He seemed unaffected by the whole event. “Aren’t you shook up over Maddy charging you?”
Roan lifted his leg, hooking his knee around the horn of the saddle. He loosened Diamond’s reins so the horse could relax. “No. Why?” he asked, squinting toward her, the sun directly in his eyes.
“My heart was pounding.”
He shrugged. “Maybe knowing Maddy’s routine helped.”
She smiled a little. “Or is it your black ops background? Are you guys trained not to get excited or distracted during a firefight? Or something dangerous going on around you?”
Roan smiled a little. “Could be,” he drawled, “but honestly I don’t get rattled by much, either way.”
“Your family genes?”
“Most likely. My mom’s a cool cucumber. My father is laid-back and easygoing. Not much riles him, either.”
“Well, I was impressed.” She patted her heart. “I was scared for you. Okay?”
Roan met her eyes and nodded. “It’s nice to be worried over.”
Heat flowed out of Shiloh’s heart, making her chest feel as if it were expanding. She saw kindness in Roan’s look as he held her gaze. “I guess you’re right,” she muttered ruefully, “I am a bona fide worrywart.”
Roan stretched slowly, arms over his head and then he lowered them. He unhooked his knee from around the horn and settled his boot into the stirrup. “I like you just the way you are, Shiloh. Come on, we’ll meet up with the other two wranglers. We need to double-check and ride the entire fence line on that new pasture. A wrangler took a check ride around the fence line last week, but we can’t afford these buffalo escaping and wandering around. That would cause all kinds of hell.” He looked at his watch. “You’ll be in the saddle a good three hours. Are you up for it?”
“I am, but I’ll betcha my butt is gonna be sore when it’s all over with.”
“I like your sense of humor. Ready for a little canter?”
Was she ever. “You bet!”
*
Anton Leath sat on a wooden bench in the main square of Wind River on a warm late-June morning. It was ten A.M. And all the small shops around it were opening up, the restaurants busy with tourists who were driving through this town on Highway 89 with a population of fifteen hundred. He was dressed like a tourist, in a pair of jeans, hiking boots, and a casual dark blue T-shirt. Actually, he relished blending in because he liked camouflage. As a hunter in upstate New York, during deer season, he put on his camo gear and blended into the woodlands to kill a nice four-or five-point buck. Now, he sat on one of the many wooden benches placed around the square, a newspaper draped over his crossed legs, looking like a tourist simply enjoying the morning, with no particular place to go.
He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and turned it on. Stupid Shiloh Gallagher had a fan page on the social media site. And every day she posted a photo and a paragraph about Wyoming. He should thank his lucky stars the girl was an idiot. She’d escaped him undetected by suddenly leaving her New York apartment. But then to think that he wouldn’t trail her through social media sites? His full mouth pulled into a grin.
As he thumbed through the newspaper he was looking for ads for a gun shop. And also, any local news on the Wind River Ranch where she was staying. He felt a thrill move through him. Instead of hunting a buck, he was going to start hunting Shiloh. He should have taken his African skinning knife he killed her mother with and turned it on her and slit her throat as well. Shrugging, Anton couldn’t change the past. But he was sure as hell going to change Shiloh’s life once and for all. The bitch had put him in prison with her testimony. A sweet sensation of revenge drifted through Anton as his eyes narrowed on an ad from a local gun shop.