The Cowboy's Christmas Bride. Patricia Johns

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СКАЧАТЬ up—a dun stallion named Romeo and a piebald mare. Chet’s horse, a chestnut gelding named Barney, stood resolutely on the far side of the coral, ignoring them.

      “Have you ridden any of them yet?” Dakota asked, stopping at Andy’s side. He held a carrot out to the mare.

      “I’ve ridden Romeo, here,” he said, reaching out to pet the stallion’s nose. Romeo leaned closer, nosing for a carrot, and Andy obliged.

      “How about Barney?” she asked, nodding toward the gelding that was inching closer around the side of the corral, wanting his own share of the treats.

      “He bit me,” Andy retorted.

      Dakota choked back a laugh. “Not sweet old Barney.”

      “Sweet?” Andy shook his head. “That horse hates me. Every chance he gets, he gives me a nip. I just about lost the top of my ear last time.”

      “Okay, well, not Barney, then,” she replied with a shake of her head. In fact, if Andy wasn’t going to ride Barney, she was inclined to take him herself. He was an experienced horse for this ride, a sweetheart deep down...if you weren’t Andy, apparently.

      “So what do you think?” he asked.

      She paused for a moment, considering.

      “Romeo, here, is young and strong. He’s a runner. He’ll go and go, so he’ll definitely have the energy for a cattle drive. But he doesn’t have the experience.”

      “I like him, though,” Andy said. Romeo crunched another carrot, his jaw grinding in slow, satisfied circles. “He wasn’t Chet’s first choice, either.”

      “Which horse did Chet recommend?” she asked.

      “Patty,” he said, nodding to the piebald mare. “But what do you think?”

      Dakota looked over the horses. “I’d have said Barney, but if he really hates you that much—”

      “And he does,” Andy replied in a low laugh.

      “Patty is a good horse. She’d do well.” She paused, watching the way Romeo stretched toward Andy for another carrot. “But you seem to have a good bond with Romeo. I don’t know. I’d say it’s between Patty and Romeo. Patty would be my first choice. I think Romeo’s a risk.”

      Andy nodded. “Thanks. I appreciate it.” He gave the last carrot to Patty and showed Romeo his empty hands. “Sorry, buddy. All out.”

      Andy pushed himself off the fence and Dakota followed him as he headed back the way they’d come. Sunlight warmed her shoulders and the top of her head. She glanced around the yard as they walked, inhaling the comforting scent of hay and autumn chill.

      “So?” she prodded.

      “When have I ever been one to take good advice?” he asked with a grin. “I’m taking Romeo. If I’m going to ride for four days, I’d rather have it be with a horse that wants to move.”

      Somehow this didn’t surprise her in the least, and not in a pleasant way. Andy Granger had always made his own rules. “Fair enough.”

      “What?” He cast her a quizzical look.

      “Did you really want my advice, or just a vote for what you already wanted to do?”

      “Hey.” His tone grew deeper and his eyes met hers. “I might not be the rancher of the family, but I’m not exactly a lost kitten, either. I can ride.”

      Dakota dropped her gaze, her cheeks warming. Andy had an effective stare.

      “I grew up here, too, you know,” he added. His stride was long and she had to pick up her pace to keep up with him.

      He may have grown up in Hope, but she knew he’d never taken ranching very seriously.

      “You clowned around,” she retorted. “I remember that horse show where you arrived late and—”

      “I had my fun,” he interrupted. “And why not? No one else took me seriously.”

      “They might have,” she shot back, “if you’d shown that you cared about this land at all.”

      “And if I were punctual.” He gave her a look of mock seriousness. “So very punctual.”

      He was making fun of her now and she shook her head. Andy had been late for that horse show, and she’d told him off for it when he finally did arrive. It was that joking attitude of his that rubbed her the wrong way—it always had. Always joking, never saying anything of any substance. In her own humble opinion, Andy’s father had made the right call in who got the ranch.

      “You were late, and I came in first at that show,” she said. She’d enjoyed beating him.

      “I was late and I still came in third,” he quipped. “Imagine what I could’ve done if I’d arrived on time.”

      “Yes,” she retorted. “Imagine.”

      The thing was Andy hadn’t lacked in skill or talent, just focus. At least that was the way she saw it. And he hadn’t focused because he hadn’t cared about ranching life. But Dakota did—she cared more than a guy like Andy could ever imagine, and while he was horsing around and flirting with girls, she’d been working hard. It wasn’t just a junior horse show, it was a matter of pride.

      “I was joking.” He came to a stop in front of the house and shoved his hands into his pockets. He didn’t sober entirely, that smile still teasing at the corners of his mouth. “You’ll get used to it.”

      From where they stood she could see the barn on one side and the drive leading toward the main road on the other. It wound through bushes of amber and nut brown, a few cattails growing in the ditch where water collected. The cluck of the chickens mingled with the faraway call of a lone V of geese that soared overhead. She could see the beauty here—the life, the rotation of the seasons, the work to be done and the harvest to be enjoyed. She could see things she was quite sure Andy didn’t. The land wasn’t a joke, it was a responsibility.

      “I’m already used to it,” she retorted. “You’re acting like I don’t know you. If you want to know why people are so ticked with you, this is it. This is all a joke for you, just a way to pass the time. But for the rest of us, this is our life, something we care enough about to dedicate every waking hour. When you sold that land, you made a dent in this community and it’s affected us all—my family especially. You might be joking around, but the rest of us are dead serious, and we’re left paying for it.”

      “And I doubt there’s any way you’ll forgive me, is there?” He’d sobered finally, the joking look evaporating from his face, leaving those chiseled Granger good looks to drill straight into her.

      “Probably not.” Dakota sucked in a breath and nodded in the direction of the corral. “I still recommend Patty, for the record. Not that I expect it to matter to you.”

      “Noted. And I should add that just because I joke around doesn’t mean I’m not dead serious about some things, this cattle drive included.”

      “Good.” She swallowed, СКАЧАТЬ