Rawley reined his horse to a stop. “Are you serious? Didn’t you see him?”
Skylar howled with laughter. “Stringbean.” She shook her head.
“We butted heads from the start when I was helping out on the case. I teased him mercilessly. From how skinny he was to his little feet.” He laughed.
“That’s terrible,” she said with a laugh.
“You wouldn’t say that if you’d seen how he tried to act all big. He was a cocky little bastard. He thought because his family had money, he was above us. People like that need to be shown they’re not. He thought he could intimidate me and Case. We’d just laugh at him. But he’s a good kid. Just made a mistake, but it did fix his attitude. If it hadn’t, I sure as hell wouldn’t let him ride on my property.”
“I’m sure. Who’s Case?”
“Agent Case Anderson.”
They came to a marshaled line of fenceposts, horses’ hooves stirring up the scent of the dirt. Skylar exhaled slowly. “And now Rachel has her back?”
Rawley’s grin softened. “One afternoon, Rachel pleaded with Sydney to see the mare. Sydney saw how Rachel and the Paint greeted each other, knew they belonged together, and gave the horse back. Now Rachel keeps her at Sydney’s ranch and can ride whenever she wants.”
Skylar’s eyes lit up. “Sydney Wright… I met her at her bookstore in town.”
“That’s her,” Rawley chuckled. “Bookstore by day, ranch by, well, all the time. She and Case fell in love and are now engaged.”
Skylar smiled, knowing Rawley had a tough job. One that she would never be able to do, but she also knew he loved it and made a difference out there. To see him joke with Bobby after he’d stolen a horse was a testament to how he helped people.
Chapter Eight
Rawley nudged his horse’s flanks with his boot heels and rode lazy circles around her, the animal’s muscles rippling beneath the saddle. The dogs ran around him, barking.
“What are you doing?” Skylar asked, laughing.
“So, how good are you?” He nodded at the mare, with a grin.
“Oh, you think you can take me on? I’m not sure how fast this girl is.” She patted the mare’s gleaming neck.
“She’s fast, but not fast enough.”
“Is that a challenge, Agent Bowman?” Her eyes flashed with competitive fire.
“And if it is, Ms. McCoy?” He leaned forward in his saddle, the leather creaking as he folded his arms on the pommel.
“You think I’ll back down?” She straightened her spine, chin lifting.
He raised his eyebrow, studying her determined expression. “I don’t think you’d back down from any challenge.”
“You’re right,” she said, then dug her heels into the mare’s sides and took off, leaving a billowing cloud of golden dust in her wake. The dogs chasing after her.
Rawley grinned and rubbed the horse’s neck, feeling the mane between his fingers.
“How big of a start should we give them? We can’t let two females beat us, right? Let’s go!” He nudged the horse, and it launched forward like a shot, hooves pounding the earth rhythmically.
Rawley spotted her up ahead, her hair whipping in the wind as she kept glancing over her shoulder at him. Damn, she could definitely ride. She moved with the mare as one, her body swaying gracefully with each stride, barely rising from the worn leather saddle, but he knew he was better. He watched her figuregrowing larger in his vision as the distance between them shrank with each powerful stride.
He saw her glance over her shoulder, sunlight catching her widened eyes and her jaw dropping, then desperately nudged the mare again, leaning over the saddle, but couldn’t maintain her lead. Rawley pulled alongside her, close enough to see the flush on her cheeks, then touched the brim of his hat in mock salute before the horse surged ahead, leaving her and her mare in a swirling cloud of dust and defeat.
****
When Skylar guided her mount into the low-slung barn, golden afternoon light sifted through the loft slats, illuminating drifting dust in the air. Along the center aisle, Rawley strolled beside his horse, loose reins draped over one hand as he circled the chestnut to cool him down. The horse’s flanks heaved with each breath, and Rawley tipped his head down, but she saw his eyes sparkling with a grin he couldn’t quite hide.
After sliding from the saddle, Skylar eased the cinch out a few notches. With each click, the leather slackened against Chanel’s sweaty coat, letting cooler air whisper across her barrel, still snug enough to keep the saddle from sliding and chilling her back too rapidly. She led the mare at a slow walk, the rhythm of hooves echoing in the barn’s hush.
