Wrangling the Redhead - By Sherryl Woods Page 0,14
you handle yourself on a horse. Maybe I’ll be more reassured than I was yesterday.”
She chafed at the test, but she understood it. If she were in his position, she’d do the same thing. And since it was clear that Grady had tried to smooth things over, she owed it to him to give Wade at least a passing show of respect.
Still, she couldn’t resist a taunt. “Shall I take Midnight?” she inquired innocently.
He regarded her soberly, his gray eyes cool and assessing. “Only if you don’t care about coming back,” he said, not giving away by so much as a blink whether he was serious.
“Then I’ll save him for next time,” she said. “Since you know the animals better than I do, you choose one today. And don’t go with the slowest nag in the barn, or I’ll make you regret it.”
“How about we compromise?” he suggested, though it looked as if the word stuck in his craw.
“Now there’s a novel idea. I’m surprised you’re familiar with the concept.”
To her surprise, he winked at her. “Oh, you’d be amazed at the things I’ll do given the right incentive.”
She laughed. “That must mean Grady’s offered you a huge bonus for putting up with me.”
“Not a dime,” he insisted. “But he did lead me to believe that you weren’t a tenderfoot and that I owed it to you and the ranch to give you a fair chance.”
“Okay, then, what’s the compromise?”
“You pick your own horse, subject to my okay.”
Lauren nodded. “Fair enough.” She’d ridden almost every horse in the Blackhawk barn at one time or another.
A half hour later, they’d saddled up. Once Wade had explained that they might as well ride up into the hills to see if they could locate some wild horses that had been reported, Lauren abandoned her plan to go into town. Instead, she took the time to pack a couple of thick ham-and-cheese sandwiches and some of Gina’s extraordinary cheesecake along with a thermos of iced tea. If Wade thought he was going to put her through her paces, she was at least going to be well fortified for the experience.
“Maybe, if you’re as good as Grady says, you can talk those mustangs into coming back with us,” he taunted when she returned from the kitchen with their lunch. “I’m always looking for new stock at a good price. Can’t beat free.”
“Very amusing. I think Grady may have oversold my skill, if he has you believing I’m capable of sweet-talking a few wild stallions down into the corral.”
Wade’s gaze traveled over her from head to foot in an assessment deliberately meant to rile her. “You could always practice on me, see if you can tame me.”
Lauren’s heart thumped erratically at the suggestion. “Something tells me that you’re tougher than any horse I might tangle with.”
“Probably so, which is part of the challenge,” he agreed, then grinned as he shoved a battered Stetson on his head. “Let’s ride.”
He set off at a sedate pace that Lauren had no difficulty at all matching, but the instant they hit an open stretch of land, he urged his horse to a full gallop. As if that were going to intimidate her, she thought with amusement as she urged her horse ahead of his.
His grin spread. “So that’s the way it’s going to be,” he shouted, shooting past her.
The rush of the wind, the exhilaration of the challenge, the taunting of an infuriating man—all of it made Lauren almost giddy with pure delight. She felt vibrantly alive for the first time in months. No, in years.
Riding had always been that way for her, but this was even more so. Having Wade’s gaze on her, watching as doubt turned to respect, seeing an unwilling flare of heat replace the chilly disdain that he’d expressed in more ways than one, it reminded her of the first day she’d walked onto a movie set.
Everyone from the director to the cameraman and the grips had assumed that she was yet another of the producer’s whims. Heck, even she hadn’t been convinced that she had any right to be on that soundstage with an Oscar-winning actor and a woman whose every film had been a critical success, if not a box-office blockbuster.
But Lauren had taken the job seriously. She had her lines down cold, and ignoring the festival the butterflies were having in her stomach, she went to work. She had played that tiny scene with every bit of emotion and passion that she could