Page 26 of Wyoming Tough

Morie sighed and went to the barn. She brought out one of the other older saddle horses they kept for visitors. This one was quite gentle, like the one that had run away. She heard Mallory telling one of the men to go after it.

She picked up Cane’s saddle, ignoring his outraged, indignant look. She turned the horse and draped the saddle over his back, pulling up the cinch and fastening it deftly.

“Don’t fuss,” she told Cane when she handed him the bridle. “Everybody needs a little help now and then. It’s not demeaning to let someone do you a favor. Even the hired help.”

He glared down at her for a few seconds, during which she thought he was probably going to storm away or dress her down for her insolence.

But finally he just shook his head. “Okay. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” She handed him the reins.

He was looking at the horse dubiously. It was obvious that he hadn’t tried to mount one since he was wounded.

“We have a friend back in Texas that we used to go riding with,” she said, without giving away much. “He lost an arm doing merc work overseas. He mounted offside so that he could use his good hand on the pommel to spring up into the saddle. Worked like a charm.”

His dark eyebrows went up under the wide brim of his hat. “You don’t let anybody intimidate you, do you?”

She smiled. “You’re not intimidating. You’re just a little scary sometimes.”

He shook his head again. “Okay, I’ll try it. But if I land on my face, you’re fired.”

“You can’t fire her,” Mallory pointed out. “Unless you hired her, and you didn’t. Get on that horse and let’s go search out straggling heifers. They really are right about snow this time.”

Cane looked at his brother. “I’ll give it a shot.”

He fumbled the first time and almost fell. But he tried again, and again, until he got the rhythm just right. He sprang up into the saddle with a heavy sigh and took the reins in his hand. He wheeled the horse around and looked down at Morie. “Thanks.”

She gave him an encouraging look. “You’re welcome.”

Mallory rode in between them. “Let’s go. Daylight’s burning.”

“I’m right behind you.”

Mallory glanced at Morie and he wasn’t smiling. He didn’t like Cane smiling at her. He didn’t know why, and that made him even angrier.

“Get back to work,” he told her. He rode off behind his brother without another word.

Morie glared after him. “I was going to,” she muttered. “What did you think, I had a date to go sailing on the Caribbean or something?”

“Talking to yourself,” Darby teased. “Better watch that. They’ll be sending men with nets after you.”

“If they do, I’ll tell them the boss drove me batty,” she assured him.

“Nice, what you did for Cane,” he said, sobering. “He hasn’t tried to get on a horse since he came back. I thought he’d give up after Old Bill ran off. None of us would have dared to do what you did. Saw him punch a cowboy once for even offering, a few months ago.”

“He’s just hurting,” she said. “He doesn’t know how to cope, how to interact with people, how to go on doing normal things. I heard that he won’t go to physical therapy or even talk to a psychologist. That’s hurting him, too. It must be horrible, for a man so active and vital, to lose an arm.”

“He was the rodeo champ,” he replied solemnly. “Killed him when he had to stop competing.”

“He’ll adjust,” she said softly. “It will take time, and help. Once he realizes that, and starts going back to the therapist, he’ll learn to live with it. Like our friend did.”

His eyes narrowed. “Odd friend. A mercenary.”

“We have friends of all sorts.” She laughed. “My dad likes renegades and odd people.”

“Well, I suppose it takes all kinds to run the world,” he replied. His eyes sparkled. “And we had better get back to work. Bad time to lose a job, in this economy.”

“Tell me about it!”

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