How To Rope A Rich Cowboy (Silver Springs Ranch #2) - Anya Summers

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The day away from his multitude of responsibilities was exactly what Colt needed.

The fresh air, the heat of the summer day, the feel of his horse beneath him… and his shoulders relaxed, releasing the always present tension. He gave Tank his head as they trotted along the verdant green field, away from the ranch and stables. They had both been cooped up for far too long. Today’s ride was way overdue.

He couldn’t remember the last day he had had off. It had been weeks, what with the summer rush, and there was always work that needed to be done.

Truth be told, Colt was burned out. The dull repetition of his days and nights had become tedious. When his alarm went off every morning, he grimaced at facing the deluge of tasks. It had been far too long since he had viewed his day with a modicum of excitement. Quite simply, he thought about walking away from the ranch and all his myriad responsibilities, only to immediately feel contrite because he was fortunate to have grown up here, to have been handed the reins of Silver Springs Ranch, and be the head of the operations by the time he was twenty-five.

Didn’t make carrying the mantle any easier, though.

And just because he was worn out, didn’t mean that he didn’t love the ranch—because he did, with every part of his being. Colt had poured his heart, blood, sweat, and tears into this place over the last eight years. He was proud of the family business, and the pieces he had added to the ranch since his father had passed the torch of overseeing the company to him. Now, at thirty-three, the ranch was the total sum of Colt’s life, day in and day out. The extent of his world revolved around the acres of the ranch and reached as far as the town of Winter Park, but that was it.

Saddled on Tank, his seven-year-old chestnut Rocky Mountain horse, he left the grassy fields, took one of the mountain trails and rode up into the mountains surrounding Silver Springs Ranch. The ranch itself belonged to Colt—well, to his family, the Andersons. He had quite the nest egg from his share of the profits, and had invested what he made wisely.

They had been lucky this summer with all the rain they had received this year. They hadn’t needed to contend with forest fires in this area, in what was becoming known as the burning season. It was always a threat during the summer months, even with enough precipitation. And Colt knew how quickly that luck could turn, where a single spark from lightning or a careless camper could ravage thousands of acres.

“We’ve needed this, haven’t we, boy?” He patted Tank’s neck.

Tank jerked his head up and down in response. Colt laughed at the reply. He’d had Tank since he was a yearling, had helped train him himself, and they were bonded for life.

They crested the first ridge on the path. On the trail rides, the guides stopped at this spot for guests to take pictures of the panoramic view. It was a beauty. Always one of his favorites, the overlook had a clear view of the fertile valley below full of cattle and green grass, and in the distance, you could see the main ranch buildings, the hotel, the stables, and even a few of the guest cabins.

The path veered away from the ranch. It leveled off flat through a mountain meadow still full of wildflowers in the August heat—probably from all the rain they had received lately.

Colt knew these forests and streams, the meadows and trails, by heart, and so did Tank. He gave Tank his lead and they raced through the field. The ride exhilarated him. The strain, the malcontent, dissolved at the pounding of Tank’s hooves over the ground. The feel of the wind as it whipped over his form was invigorating. Horse and rider rode as one, reveling in the freedom and the glory of the day.

Signs of life were everywhere. Insects hummed. A raven screeched overhead. Chipmunks chittered in the trees and raced for cover out of their path. It all competed with the thunder of Tank’s hooves over the packed earth as they galloped.

At the far end of the field, Colt directed Tank onto the high trail. They were going to spend the day on the path. Colt had lunch packed for them in his saddlebags. A part of him thought he should have brought a bedroll and some