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“The best way to get information is get the person to relax and feel comfortable enough to tell you things which might not even relate to the case, but often give you some insight that might later prove helpful. Besides, I’m hoping last night wasn’t just a one off. I want you to know that I’m interested in getting to know everything about you.”
And again, the delicate blush stained her cheeks.
“I don’t want you to feel you have to…”
“Let me be clear. I’ve known who you were for years, but last year seeing you sneak those mustangs back onto federal land and then create the stampede in order to get away confirmed to me that you were someone I wanted to know on a deeply personal and intimate level. If last night was just something you needed right then, and you don’t feel the same…”
“It’s not that at all. I just don’t want you to feel obligated. I’m not sure I could have gotten through last night without you.”
“You could have; of that I am certain. I just hope I made it a little easier for you to bear.”
“You did. I’m pretty much what you see is what you get, but I’m just about done here. I could use a little laid-back saddle time. I don’t know about you, but I’ve been preparing for the World Show for months. Nice to just get on Mattie and relax.”
“I know the feeling. If you aren’t actually practicing, then you’re conditioning with a goal in mind.”
She nodded and he pulled her chair back from her desk, stepping out of the way when she stood so she could proceed him down the stairs. He found pleasure in just watching the way she moved. He had to admit to himself, he was becoming quite a fan of Harper’s backside.
“I hope you don’t mind. I picked up the duffle I tossed into your trailer when you took Tank for me.”
“I wondered what was in there, but then decided if it was your dirty underwear, I didn’t want to know. You have a choice, you can put it in the guest room, and we can try to fool Dusty—although he’s pretty damn observant—or you can put it in my room.”
“I think Dusty and I will get along better if I’m straight up with him.”
She turned to look at him, concern written all over her face. “Was there a problem down at the barn?”
“Not at all. We just did the guy thing where he tells me if I hurt you, there’ll be hell to pay, and I assured him my intentions were strictly honorable.”
“Please tell me that didn’t go on.”
“I’m afraid so, but don’t let it rattle you, it’s just something guys do when the women they have feelings for are involved. Dusty and I are good, but he did warn me that you have a temper and could be a bit flighty where relationships are concerned.”
Harper rolled her eyes. “God help me.”
By the time she and Spence reached the barn, Dusty had Mattie and Tank out of their stalls and groomed. Both Spence’s and Harper’s saddles were sitting on saddle racks attached to their stalls, which folded down when not in use.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I cleaned and oiled your saddle when I did Harper’s,” said Dusty.
“Mind? Hell, no,” laughed Spence. “Although I am a little embarrassed you saw how dirty it was.”
“Not to worry. You should have seen Harper’s when I first came to work for her.”
“I’m beginning to think you’re a handy guy to have around, Dusty.”
“I don’t know what I’d do without him. He just kind of gets things done before you even think to ask.”
Once the horses were tacked up, they mounted and rode out together.
“So, what’s it like to have to deal with the broncs and bulls you supply to the rodeo? Do your people ever get hurt handling them?” she asked.
He chuckled. “Not at all. I’ll let you in on a secret. When my mean ass broncs and killer bulls aren’t in the arena trying to toss some cowboy on his head, they’re about as easygoing and laid-back as Tank here. Now, I wouldn’t recommend trying to ride one. But load them in a trailer, groom them, any of that, just as nice as they can be.”
“You’re kidding me? That one big gray bull you have—Kowboy Killer? He’s vicious.”
He laughed again. “Kowboy is the laziest beast you ever want to be around. You let him out in a pasture, he’ll go find a nice shady tree to lay down under and take a nap. You call him, and he’ll come trotting up to you like a big dog. Loves donuts. And I mean loves ‘em. But he knows his job and he’s good at it. You put a bucking rig on him and let some cowboy straddle his back and he’ll go to town, but the minute that cowboy comes off and they loosen the rigging, you could let a ten-year-old lead him back to the pens.”
“Really?” she asked fascinated.
“Yep, he’s trained and conditioned to be the best at what he does… bucking off cowboys. It’s one of the reasons my stock is in demand, they’re good at their jobs and put on a great show, but they’re easy and safe to deal with. Hell, some of them have developed their own following on social media. It’s the damnedest thing you’ve ever seen.”
