Page 69 of Wild, Wild Cowboy

“You could sell him, is what I’m saying.”

“Right,” I scoffed. “Because that worked out so well for him the first time. Nothing’s changed. He’s still a young gelding who will buck off any rider in about eight seconds. The only buyer we’re going to find will be sending him straight back to Canada.”

“Maybe that’s not such a bad thing,” he muttered.

My head spun in his direction. Adam might be a grumpy son-of-a-bitch, but he was a big softy when it came to horses. “What the fuck?”

“I hate his stupid face, that’s all.”

“What did that horse ever do to you?” I demanded.

Adam glowered at Hurricane Red, who was nibbling clover and minding his own damn business. “Well, he stomped my baby brother, for one thing.”

Well, shit.

I blinked.

My big brother was holding a grudge against a horse for hurting me. That was so fucking sweet I was afraid I might actually blush.

I tipped my hat and smirked. “I knew you loved me.”

Adam grunted.

I grabbed him in a hug and lifted him off his feet—I remembered to lift with my legs, but I was still going to regret that later—making him holler. Blaine snorted a laugh and I heard him snap a picture with his phone.

“Get off me, you idiot!” Adam growled.

Grinning, I released him.

“Fucking dumbass,” Adam muttered, shaking himself out. But I caught the barest glimmer of a smile beneath the brim of his hat.

Blaine turned the conversation back to Hurricane Red. “Have you considered breaking him?”

“I already broke him. That’s how he ended up in the slaughter pipeline. He’s refused to go back in the chute since our accident.”

Adam and Blaine exchanged a look and then Blaine turned to me, his dark eyes assessing. “I meant, have you considered trying to train him under saddle? He probably wouldn’t be reliable as a show horse or for cattle work, but with a strong rider, he could be a decent pleasure mount.”

I scratched my jaw. “The thing is, he’s already trained. He’s spent the last few years being rewarded for bucking riders off. Now you want to convince him to let a rider stay put and tell him what to do and where to go? It’s unlikely.”

“But we could try,” Blaine pressed. “No one thought Belle could be ridden either, and James turned her into a world champion. Improbable does not mean impossible.”

“So you’re a philosopher now?” I grinned at him, but in the back of my head, the wheels were starting to turn. Slowly, but determinedly. What if wecould? “They teach you that at your fancy university?”

“Nah, got it from my mom,” Blaine said. “I used to sayI can’ta lot, when what I really meant was it seemed hard. She hated that.”

Adam slowly rubbed his hands together, his head bowed. “Moms are always saying shit like that.”

I swallowed past the sudden lump in my throat, knowing what he was thinking. Our own mom hadn’t been much forI can’t, either. Jenny Hale did not raise her boys to be helpless in the face of adversity.

“I suppose it doesn’t make much sense to retire a six-year-old horse that’s perfectly sound,” I mused. “It couldn’t hurt to ask James what she thinks. She’s got a reputation for handling problem horses.”

Adam tensed. “James isn’t riding that fucker.”

“Sure,” I drawled. “I’ll let her know you said so.”

Adam growled. He knew as well as I did that if we decided to try to retrain Hurricane Red, James wasn’t going to be able to resist working with him herself, and no amount of worried fiancés was going to stop her no matter how much he grumped. But he also knew what she was capable of, and getting dusted was part of the job. There was always a risk when animals were involved.

“It would make good summer project for me,” Blaine said. “Between the three of us, I think Hurricane Red has as good a shot as any. James is the best there is. I’ve trained a few myself. And you…” He shrugged.

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