Chapter Two
Colby
I’ve seen plenty of cowboys saddle a horse, but watching River Thurston do it is like witnessing a damn miracle. Graceful, efficient, and with just enough attitude to make it clear she doesn’t give a shit if I’m impressed. Which, unfortunately for me, I am.
The way she swings herself into the saddle, with a confidence I haven’t seen once in all my years, is like a damn drug, and I know, without a doubt, that having her around is gonna be a problem. I can see the headlines now: Cowboy goes crazy, has a heart attack, dies because of a hot piece of ass.
And goddamn is she hot. She’s tall and slender, but her curves are impossible to miss. Her hair, as red as a campfire, hangs down her back in frizzy waves. Those blue eyes are a sight in and of themselves, and they’re staring straight into mine.
I’m standing here, slack-jawed, wondering what the fuck I just signed myself up for, and she’s smirking. Like she can read my goddamn mind and is getting off on the fact that I’m thinking about her naked.
The thought occurs to me to call this whole damn thing off, but something stops me.
I can’t send her away. Not when her father asked me for this favor.
I don’t know all the details, but when Richard asked me to hire his daughter, saying she was in some sort of trouble, I didn’t think twice.
He’s done a lot for me over the years. It’s the least I can do to give her a place to work out her problems.
But that favor came with explicit instructions not to tell her he asked for it. The girl is too proud for that, he said. So I’ve got no choice but to keep her around and try not to think about her long legs wrapped around my waist while she’s working under me.
Jesus Christ. This is gonna be a nightmare.
River finishes saddling the stallion and pulls herself into the saddle. Linux stomps the ground, but she doesn’t give him an inch. I don’t have one cowboy on this ranch who has managed to tame the stallion, but this girl just walks up and does it in a matter of minutes.
Still, once the boys get sight of her, things could get dicey. I suspect they’ll run her off before long. It doesn’t matter if she’s a good worker or not. The guys aren’t exactly fond of sharing space with a woman, even a badass like her.
I shake my head and whistle to my own mount. My black quarter horse, Tango, whinnies and trots toward me. The gelding is a sweetheart. A gentle soul who has a penchant for sugar cubes and a bit of a stubborn streak. But I wouldn’t have him any other way.
River is already racing toward the north pasture by the time I manage to climb into the saddle, and I take off after her, not bothering to call out. She’s not gonna listen anyway.
She’s riding low over the stallion’s neck, and I have to admit, the way her body moves in time with the horse is a sight. My hands tighten on the reins, and Tango snorts.
Tango breaks into a canter, and we cross the field, following the herd. When we reach the northernmost part of the property, my guys are already there, herding the cattle.
River’s riding through the group, helping round them up, and I’m about to join in when a bull gets riled up. His tail flicks back and forth, and he starts charging toward the fence.
“Fuck!” I yell, urging Tango toward the beast.
The last thing I need is an angry bull getting loose. We’re a cattle ranch, but this particular breed is known for their short temper and lack of cooperation.
I get close enough to see the whites of the beast’s eyes, and that’s when everything goes sideways. The bull turns his horns and charges right toward River. She’s on the opposite side of the fence, and she’s got nowhere to go. If she runs, the bastard will chase her.
“Thurston! Get out of there!”
“Not a chance, Burke. I’ve got this.”
“Like hell you do! Move!”
The bull is coming in fast, and the ground shakes beneath the weight of the creature. River doesn’t budge. She’s a fucking statue, rooted to the spot, and the beast is bearing down on her.
“Move your ass!”
But she doesn’t. Of course she doesn’t.
She kicks Linux forward, and the stallion takes off, and next thing I know she’s in a game of chicken with a two-thousand-pound bull. It’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever seen, and I’m about to say so when she swings her leg over the saddle and drops into the dirt.
“Thurston! What the hell are you doing?”
The bull is a dozen feet away and closing fast. She’s in the middle of the field, and her horse is making a run for it, trying to get away from the danger.
“Just watch,” she yells, but I’m not in the mood to play games.
“Get out of there! Now!”
River doesn’t flinch. Not a damn muscle. The bull barrels toward her, snorting and kicking up dirt, but she just plants her boots in the ground and raises her arms, waving them like she’s trying to flag down a plane.
“Hey, big guy!” she yells.
The sheer audacity of it stops me cold, and I’m halfway between calling her insane and galloping in to haul her stubborn ass out of harm’s way.
River crouches, reaching down to grab a handful of dirt, and chucks it at the beast’s face.
The bull blinks and whips its head from side to side, trying to dislodge the earth from his eyes.
She sidesteps with the agility of a damn cat, and her hand snatched the rope dangling from his neck.
The one that must’ve snapped when my guys were trying to wrangle him.
The bull tries to jerk away, but River digs her heels in, twisting the rope to guide him off course. It takes a few heartbeats, but eventually, the beast slows to a clumsy stop before pawing the ground and throwing one last half-hearted snort before she pulls him into submission.
For a moment, the field is dead silent, except for the huffing of the bull and my heart pounding in my ears. I can’t believe what I just saw. My ranch hands have started to gather, and they’re staring at her with I have no doubt is the same look I’ve got on my face.
It’s awe, mixed with disbelief, and a touch of fear. Because River Thurston is either a fucking lunatic, or she’s the best damn cowgirl I’ve ever met.
River pats the massive creature on his flank and coos, “There you go, big guy. We’re all friends here.”
Friends? The bastard tried to kill her.
The beast lets out a snort and a low, deep moo, like he’s agreeing with her.
I guide Tango forward, but I can’t think of a single word to say. This girl has been on my ranch for an hour, and she’s already tamed my stallion, killed a rattler, and wrestled a bull.
I dismount my horse and make my way across the field toward her. She’s stroking the bull’s backside, whispering into his ear, and I’m not sure what to do with the scene unfolding in front of me.
“He’s a good boy, isn’t he? You’re a good boy.”
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Excuse me?”
“Do you have a death wish? Are you stupid? Because I can’t decide if you’re just plain dumb or you’ve got a death wish.”
“You’d rather I’d have let that bull bust down the fence and escape? You’d rather I’d have let him run me over or trample me?”
“You had your chance to run.”
“And leave the job unfinished?”
“This isn’t the rodeo, Thurston. Your safety matters more than the bull.”
“Well, that’s where you’re wrong, cowboy. The bull is important, and his safety matters.”
I can’t argue with that. Not really. We need the animals, and I want them happy and healthy. But as I open my mouth to respond, the sound of a horse’s hooves hitting the ground pulls my attention, and I glance over to see my foreman riding toward us.
“Everything okay, boss?”
Lewis runs his eyes over River and the bull, and I can practically see the gears turning in his head.
The man has a good heart, but he’s got an old-fashioned way of looking at things.
The last thing I need is him giving her a hard time just because she has an ass shaped like an apple and curves that make me question my sanity.
“Everything’s fine. Thurston’s got the bull, and the fence is intact. How’d he get so far from the herd in the first place?”
“He got spooked. That coyote has been sniffing around, and I guess he scared the bull.”
“Great. Well, make sure the guys stay on top of it. I don’t want the rest of the herd to get nervous.” I not-so-subtly flit my eyes in River’s direction, doing what I can to let him know there’s a double meaning there.
“Yeah, sure. Got it, boss.”
He taps his fingers against the brim of his hat and nods, then spins his horse around and trots off. River doesn’t look in my direction, just keeps stroking the beast’s flank and whispering words into his ear.
“How’d you learn to handle a bull like that?”
“Same way I learned to ride a horse and kill a snake.”
“And what way is that?”
“My father.”
“Your dad taught you how to wrestle a bull?”
“Sure did. He taught me a lot of things. You know, for a man who’s got a reputation for being a hotshot, you sure are full of questions. Didn’t you learn how to ride a horse and kill a snake from your daddy?”
I snort. “Yeah. My daddy taught me plenty. Get back to work, Thurston. And don’t go wrestling any more wild beasts without a warning, will ya? I’ve got a ranch to run, and the last thing I need is a dead cowgirl on my hands.”
She shoots me a wicked smile and saunters off to where her horse is waiting nearby, and she climbs back into the saddle.
She’s not at all the girl I expected. River Thurston is the kind of woman who gets a man’s blood pumping, and I don’t think there’s a cowboy alive who wouldn’t enjoy getting tangled up with her.
But that’s not happening. She’s an employee, and I’m the boss. Not to mention her father would skin me alive for even thinking about touching her. And no matter how bad she makes me want to forget those facts, it’s not gonna happen.