Chapter 3
Silver reined in as she took in the amazing sight—a small band of wild horses. Two of them were palomino quarter horses, and three were sorrels, including the foal, their reddish coats reflecting the low sun in the west, turning them vibrant.
With the foothills and mountain peaks rising in all of their craggy glory behind the band, Silver took out her phone and snapped a picture.
“So stunning,” she whispered.
On a horse beside her, Beryl was quiet, a grudging participant in the evening excursion.
The older woman hadn’t wanted to go for a ride, but she hadn’t been willing to let Silver travel anywhere by herself since Franklin had returned to Denver earlier in the day, not long after he’d convinced her to have a protection agent, aka Dustin McQuaid.
Dustin had arrived late in the afternoon with an assistant.
Silver had been finishing up with their last client in the outside paddock when one of her ranch hands told her he was there.
She hadn’t been in a hurry to see him and so had stalled with her client as long as possible.
Then she’d stalled even more by checking on the newly hatched chicks.
By the time she’d gathered the inner strength to finally face Dustin, Beryl had informed her he’d saddled a horse and ridden out to survey the property.
That wasn’t why Silver had wanted to go for the ride, so that she might run into him. That wasn’t it at all.
No, she’d merely wanted to enjoy the beauty of the June evening with the mild temperatures, the fresh air, and the last rays of sunshine. It was a bonus that she and Beryl had come across the wild horses some locals had claimed were in the area.
Colorado was home to a growing population of wild horses. But the Bureau of Land Management had set aside herd-management areas on the western slope of the Rocky Mountains on specific public lands, which meant wild horses weren’t usually roaming the Front Range.
Yet here she was, getting to view the wonder of wonders. “They’re absolutely beautiful.”
Beryl still said nothing, which wasn’t out of the ordinary.
Because Beryl was Beryl, and Silver loved her for all her idiosyncrasies.
The woman was attired in a pair of expensive dress slacks and a suit coat over a frilly yellow blouse.
Her gray hair was styled in an elegant chignon, revealing simple gold hoop earrings.
She wore glasses and was never without bright-pink lipstick.
In spite of her age, she had relatively few wrinkles or sunspots and held herself with the same graceful poise she’d had since she’d started working as Silver’s assistant.
Olive, Silver’s favorite riding horse, a gentle Thoroughbred mare, shifted her body so she was facing the wild band. Her ears faced forward and her head lifted high, showing her growing interest and alertness to the horses ahead.
Silver gave Olive a gentle pat. “I wonder if we could drive them back to one of the corrals.”
“Don’t even think about it, Miss St. James.” Beryl pinched her lips together and shook her head, as if Silver was out of her mind.
“They need a home, and I can provide a good one.”
“They have a home. The wilderness.”
Silver glanced back in the direction of the ranch yard, but there was no sign of Dustin yet. Was he still out on his ride? Or had he managed to return without her seeing him? Maybe he was in the house.
The elegant Victorian-style home that had come with the ranch was like something straight out of the 1800s.
It had multiple stories, ornate trim, large bay windows, and even a tall turret on one corner.
Although it was old-fashioned and contained much of the original layout and woodwork, Silver had hired an interior decorator to revitalize the home while continuing with the Victorian theme.
It had turned out to be a lovely blend of modern and antique.
A short distance away from the home sat the original red barn, where they housed a menagerie of farm animals for the clients to pet and hold, including baby goats, chicks, cats, and even a couple of ducks.
The UTV parked beside it was used to transport some of their physically challenged clients around the ranch.
A large modern barn stood adjacent to the old barn and was home to the dozen or more horses Silver had collected since purchasing the ranch. It was heated, well-lit, and comfortable. It also had a corral so that clients could participate in therapy all year round.
Silver swept her gaze over the fertile fenced-in fields beyond the barns, where blue grama and buffalo grasses were knee-high and already providing fodder for the livestock.
Then she returned her attention to the portion of the ranch’s property that abutted the foothills, to the wild horses that were still grazing peacefully.
She held up her phone again and zoomed in, trying to get a better picture of the foal. But of course, it was fuzzy, and the little creature was partially blocked by its mother.
If only she could get a little closer, she might be able to take a better picture.
She nudged Olive. The mare took a hesitant step forward, her ears still perked up and her head held high as she took in the strange horses.
Beryl reached out to grab onto Silver. “Oh no you don’t.”
Silver was already too far away. She smiled brightly at her assistant. “Just a little closer.”
“Stay right where you are, Miss St. James.”
“I’ll be fine.” Silver pressed her boot heels into Olive’s flank. The horse took another step toward the other horses.
The largest of the horses, one of the palominos, appeared to be the stallion and the alpha male of the band. He lifted his head and tail, his nostrils flaring as he breathed in. Had he caught Olive’s scent? Or Silver’s?
He stepped away from the others while lowering his head to withers height. His eyes were sharp, almost piercing.
Beneath her, Olive trembled.
The dynamics with horses were so fascinating. The longer Silver was around them, the more she appreciated their complexity.
The alpha male began pacing, circling around his band, his gaze almost never leaving Olive.
“Let’s return to the house, Miss St. James.” Beryl was tugging on her reins and maneuvering her horse to face the house and barns.
Silver wasn’t ready to go. She let her gaze linger over the horses and the rugged terrain and the golden sunlight bathing it all.
Oh, she loved moments like this—of exquisite beauty and pure joy that couldn’t be replicated, bought, or manipulated.
Not with any amount of money or power. And she had plenty of both.
“Just a few more minutes, Beryl. Please?”
Beryl released an exasperated sigh. “I suppose. But don’t get any closer.”
Her assistant had barely gotten the words out when Olive released a frightened whinny. In the next instant, Olive was attempting to move forward, even though Silver was tugging on the reins to keep her in place.
The alpha palomino snorted loudly, then swished his tail.
Olive pulled harder. Then before Silver knew what was happening, her gentle mare was racing off across the pasture at a gallop. And the alpha palomino charged after them.
“Miss St. James!” came Beryl’s cry. “Stop this instant.”
“I’m trying!” Silver clung to the reins as the uneven gallop tossed her around in the saddle. “Come on, girl. You’re okay. You’re okay.” Even as Silver uttered what she hoped were soothing words, the stallion’s hooves thundered behind her, causing Olive to gallop even faster.
Beryl’s urgent commands to stop and come back were growing more distant.
Silver glanced over her shoulder to find that the stallion was gaining ground. What did the horse plan to do to Olive? Capture her and make her part of his harem?
Why wouldn’t he just leave them alone? Had they somehow intimidated him? Threatened him?
Silver swept her gaze over the open pasture. If she could somehow direct Olive into the ranch yard, maybe the stallion would back off and leave them alone.
She twisted the reins, attempting to turn Olive.
But the sweet horse had her head down, eyes wide and nostrils flaring. Her body radiated fear, and no matter how hard Silver tugged, the horse wouldn’t be swayed, wasn’t paying attention to her anymore, was only worried about the stallion on her tail.
When a man’s shout came from the direction of the foothills, Silver knew immediately who it was even before she glimpsed those broad shoulders, thickly muscled arms, and equally muscular torso.
It was Dustin.
He was galloping toward her. His dark-brown hair was clipped short, his eyes were covered with tinted sunglasses, and his rugged features were as handsome as always.
That was all she had time to glimpse before Olive swerved, nearly throwing her from the saddle. She managed to clasp onto the horse’s mane with one hand while clinging to the reins with the other.
Dustin shouted again. She could sense he was trying to give her instructions, but his words were too faint beneath the thudding of the horses’ hooves. And beneath her pounding heart.
As she focused ahead, sudden panic crowded into her throat. Olive was galloping straight toward the steep ravine bordering the Arrowhead River, which ran along the western length of the ranch. And the horse was going too fast to stop.