Rocket and Milo deviated from their path toward the corral. Noses to the ground they zigzagged across the yard, tracking a scent.
Two horses approached the corral fence. A sturdy iron-grey gelding that would make a perfect pack horse stopped beside a chestnut gelding with four white socks. Both horses pricked their ears forward, their bright eyes trained on her. The third horse, a small buckskin mare, remained at the back of the corral, her attention focused on the scent-tracking dogs.
A wind gust buffeted the corral and the buckskin tossed her head. Her black mane rippled and nostrils flared as she swung around to gaze at the high country backdrop. Bridie felt the pull of the mustang’s spirit. It didn’t matter if the horse was young and aloof, she would be perfect. Savvy and fearless, the mare would know her way around the mountains.
Bridie moved to pat the grey and the chestnut as they jostled against the corral fence for her attention. “Yes, you’re both gorgeous.”
Ethan walked past and to her surprise the mustang whinnied softly and headed for him. She lowered her head over the wooden fence and he smoothed a gentle hand over her creamy neck. Tension leeched from the mare’s muscles and she sighed, leaning against the fence to get closer to him. It was as though his calm touch had provided an antidote to her restlessness.
Bridie gave the grey and chestnut a final pat and walked over to Ethan, careful to not spook the mare.
“She’s beautiful.”
“She is. Henry adopted her from the Pryor Mountain horse range. She’s the full sister to Payton’s mustang, Gypsy.”
The buckskin’s ears flickered before she swung her head toward Bridie. Bridie held out her hand and smiled as the mustang’s velvet muzzle brushed her palm.
Bridie glanced at Ethan and caught him watching her, eyes intent. He spoke, tone low. “You know Socks is the better choice, don’t you? He’ll be more predictable and steady.”
“I know.”
Ethan’s blue-shirted chest lifted in a silent sigh. “Okay then, Molly it is.” He examined the sky. “Let’s saddle up and take a quick ride to the north meadow before the rain hits.”
Bridie helped Ethan saddle Molly and it wasn’t long before she swung into the saddle. Molly pranced a little and then walked forward. Ethan had taken Milo and Rocket back to the ranch house and after another glance skyward he swung into Captain’s saddle. Solid and dependable, the big bay didn’t even swish his tail.
A wind flurry caught in the long grass and Molly shied sideways. Ethan threw Bridie a quick look that she ignored.
She rubbed Bridie’s neck. “It’s okay, girl, you’ve seen this all before.”
Ethan led the way through the undulating meadow. When she was sure Molly had calmed, Bridie relaxed in the saddle. Her gaze traced the broad width of Ethan’s shoulders. Ethan looked as gorgeous on horseback as he did on the ground. After years of pony club and then camp draft, the sight of a man at home on a horse wasn’t new. The sight also shouldn’t hold her attention even if the man’s wide shoulders tapered to lean hips and long legs that she’d checked out more than once while saddling the horses.
Ethan continued to survey the white wisps that now blotted the sky. Every so often he’d stare at the rugged peaks that pushed their way through the heavier clouds and his mouth would soften. Henry had spoken the truth. Ethan belonged outdoors. Warmth crept through her. This cowboy was a rarity. He was both good looking and a good man. Free from conceit and arrogance, he’d left his home for the summer to care for a father who’d not be easy. He remained indoors and helped Henry with crosswords, suppressing his need to feel the wind on his face and the sun on his back.
Ethan reined in Captain so she could ride alongside him. He pointed to a group of delicate purple wildflowers growing in a low spire.
“I’m not sure if you have these in the outback but this is larkspur and the wildflower that the ranch is named after. As pretty as it is, it’s poisonous if cattle eat too much of it.”
“No, we don’t have it even though we do have our fair share of poisonous plants.” She looked toward a conical white flower that emitted a faint perfume. “Is that one poisonous too?’
“No, it’s beargrass, the wildflower Payton and Cordell’s ranch is named after.”
Bridie smiled. “I see a pattern. My brother’s ranch is Hollyhock Creek.”
Ethan matched her smile. She could have sworn the white flash of his slow grin made her lightheaded but it had to be the wind stealing her breath.
“Yes, the original pioneering families in this section of Paradise Valley all named their ranches after wildflowers. Down from Zane’s ranch there’s Fire Weed Ranch, your mom’s childhood home. Then there’s also Rose Crown, where Ivy and Rhett live and Bluebell Falls that Rhett’s sister, Peta, runs.”