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Authors: Catherine Winchester

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Chapter Five

Sam was in one of the meadows this afternoon, schooling a horse for roping, when suddenly Ruth came hurtling out of the house, her skirts flying, her arms wide and that grin back on her lips. He paused to watch her, then looked to see what she was running towards. Coming up his driveway was a snow white horse. The horse whinnied as it saw her and the rider stopped him, although the horse seemed agitated and pawed the ground.

Suddenly he
had visions of the horse rearing up, spooked by Ruth’s behaviour and hitting her with a flying hoof.

“Hey!” he called but she was too far away to hear him. He set his horse to the gallop and took off towards them, praying that he could get to Ruth before she got herself killed.

His horse was fast and he made good speed as he jumped the paddock fence and tore down the driveway. Ruth turned as she heard his thundering hoof beats, shying away from him, covering her head with her hands as if she expected a collision.  He reached down and wrapped one arm around her waist, pulling her against him as he turned them out of the path of the strange white horse.

He couldn’t help but enjoy the feeling of her pressed against him. Silly and stuck up she may be, but she sure was pretty
when she wasn’t covered in dirt.

“What are you doing?” Ruth regained her voice as he slowed the horse to a walk.

“Stopping you from getting trampled!” he yelled back. “What were you thinking, throwing yourself at a horse like that?”

She began to wriggle in his arms causing him to lose his grip and drop her. She landed in a heap on the dirt driveway.

“You vile, wretched man.” She cursed as she got back to her feet. “That is my horse! He would no more hurt me than I could hurt you, much as I might want to!”

She stormed away from him
, towards the horse, who now looked quite worked up, prancing and not listening to his rider. The stiff stance in Ruth’s shoulders relaxed as she approached and he could hear her taking softly.

“It’
s all right, Angel, everything’s all right now, don’t let him frighten you. There’s a good boy.”

Miraculously, the spirit
ed horse calmed and whinnied as she stood to the side and patted his neck. The horse nuzzled her stomach.

Sam looked t
he horse over; he seemed to be about 15 hands and a
well buil
t
horse, with a long neck, high withers, a short back, long legs and a lean body. This was certainly not a cheap horse.

Ruth looked up at
the rider.

“Sorry about that,” she said, giving him a friendly smile. “Did you have a good journey?”

“Not bad,” he assured her, slipping his feet from the stirrups of the English saddle and dismounting. “Angel must be tired though,”

“You too,” she said,
drawing the reins over Angel’s head and leading him towards the stables. “Come on, I’ll show you to the bunk house and put Angel away for you.”

“I can do that, Lady Adams.”

“It’s Mrs and I honestly don’t mind, I’d like to spend some time with him.”

They walked past Sam, who felt
as if he were gawking at them. Ruth, the uptight princess, was being nice to a rough looking stable boy? The boy nodded as they passed but Ruth kept her eyes forward as she led her horse.

Sam sighed, regretting his impulsive decision but honestly, she was so stuck up, how could he know that she knew how to handle herself around horses? She barely knew how to
cook, according to his mother, how could he know that she and her horse were that close? He would expect a woman like her to leave the care of the animal to her servants, deigning only to ride him on occasion.

He turned his horse and returned to the paddock. The other ranch hands were all watching and he knew that he was in for some
teasing but he was used to that. He cast one last glance at Ruth and the white horse as they entered the barn, then when she was out of sight, he got back to the business of schooling this horse.

Maybe he had made a fool of himself, but he had certa
inly tested his horse’s reflexes and hadn’t found him wanting.

***

Ruth put Angel into the stall and quickly unsaddled him, leaving the saddle, bridle and saddle bags outside the stall as she bolted it closed.

“Come on, I’ll show you to the bunk house
before I rub him down,” Ruth said picking up the tack whilst Joe shouldered the saddle bags, which contained his travel belongings.

On the way, she explained that he had room and board and
whilst he was welcome to help out on the ranch if he wanted, he wasn’t obligated to.

“Might be a good way to see what life is like around here, as long as you don’t need me,” Joe said.

“I’ll take care of Angel from now on, but you’re welcome to check in on him too. I know how much he loves you. As we agreed, I’ll pay your salary for three months and your passage home after that if you want to go back.”

Joe shrugged. “I like what I see so far. This place is so… wild.”

She didn’t disagree, she thought as she pulled at the collar of her dress. It was also hot, barren and dusty, so it didn’t excite her the same way it did Joe.

She soon settled him in
with the bunk house cook, who got him some cool water and promised to explain the comings and goings on the ranch, so Ruth returned to her horse, by way of the tack room.

“What are you doing in there?” she asked Sam
when she got back to the barn. He was in Angel’s stall, rubbing him down.

“What do you think?” he asked, somewhat disdainfully. “If this sweat
from under the saddle dries, the salt will irritate his skin.”

“I know that! H
e’s in the shade here and I’ve only been gone five minutes! You have no right to come in here and start messing with my horse!”

“This is my ranch, lady, I’ll ‘mess’ with whatever horse I want to.”

“Not with my horse, you won’t!”

“I’m not going to hurt him
, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Frankly, M
r Wakefield, I don’t know what you might do, but he is
my
horse.”

“Please, you wouldn’t even
know how to rub a horse down. Besides, you might spoil your nice dress.”

Her mouth dropped open in shock.
“You know nothing about me!”

“I know enough to know that you don’t belong.”

“Is that right?”

“Damn straight it is,”

She could feel her temper flaring again. What was it with this man that riled her so?

“Do you really want to know why I’m here?”
she demanded.


I do.”

“It’s because
Ivor abandoned me! He didn’t want to marry me, he lied to me and then as soon as he had my dowry, he vanished, poof, into thin air! Leaving me with no money, no prospects, no home even! I’ve been living on the charity of my brother-in-law and thank the Lord for him, because I’d have been in the workhouse by now if he hadn’t taken me in, but there wasn’t a day when he didn’t make it clear that somehow, I had failed. Failed as a wife, failed to become a mother; I practically felt as if I should be on my knees, worshipping at his alter, for rescuing me!

“And he wasn’t the only one wondering about me. Every event I tried to attend, people whispered behind my back, asking what I had done to deserve my husband deserting me! They never stopped to think that maybe he was a lying, cheating, gambling, whoring piece of dirt
, who only courted me because he wanted my dowry!

“Our house was sold to pay his numerous creditors,
whilst he swanned off over here with
my
money,
my
inheritance, as though he didn’t have a care in the world! And the worst thing, the absolute worst thing he ever did, was to leave me married to him. I couldn’t move on and find a new husband even if I’d wanted to, because I was still married! Destined to live forever with my condescending brother-in-law and self-satisfied sister!

“So
I have every right to be here, Mr Wakefield, because my money bought half this ranch and since he did the world a favour and died, it’s now legally mine!”

She was breathing heavily after her tirade, her chest straining against her corset with each inhalation. Her runn
ing and the heat had also bathed her in a sheen of perspiration and loosened some strands of hair, making her look rumpled.

He stared at her
, seemingly transfixed.

“What are you looking at?”
she demanded

“Don’t rightly know, but it’s sure got a lot of fire.”
He smirked at her, making her feel uncomfortable.

The horse began bobbing his
head.

“You’re upsetting
Angel,” she told him, her tone crisp.

“Am I?” he asked, quite cool and calm
as he observed her. God, but she was gorgeous.

“Yes. Now
please leave me to see to my horse.”

Sam nodded and made his way out of the stall, practically sauntering out of the barn. Ruth watched him go, feeling aggrieved that he had
angered her once again. What was it about him that he had to keep picking at her until she snapped? He had almost seemed pleased with himself by the end of her tirade, which only irritated her more.

She took a few deep breaths to calm herself, then slipped the
head collar on Angel and led him from the stall, tying him up just outside in the wide central passageway. First she picked his hooves clean of mud and dirt, then grabbed a handful of straw and finished rubbing him down. When he was nearly dry, Ruth thoroughly brushed the dirt, dust and mud from his coat with the dandy brush, then used the softer body brush to keep his coat sleek and shiny.

Angel held his
tail high with pleasure for most of the groom, he loved being brushed, although his happiness waned when Ruth began to comb through his long tail and mane, which he had never enjoyed. He snorted a few times and stamped his hooves, but Ruth spoke reassuringly to him as she worked, which kept him happy.

The ranch hands came and
went as she worked, bringing horses back and taking others out. Ruth manoeuvred Angel against the wall when they came, so he couldn’t kick out at them. She didn’t pay them much mind, but they paid her a lot of attention.

Seeing a
woman grooming a horse certainly wasn’t unknown, far from it but seeing a lady do so, one dressed in a gown that probably cost more than their monthly wages, surely was unusual. They grudgingly admitted that she seemed to know what she was doing. She never walked behind the horse, she used long, firm strokes as she brushed, and she knew how to get the horse to obey her and move when told.

She also looked happy. Mostly they only saw her hanging out washing, or collecting eggs with
Mamma or Cassy, but she looked a little lost then. In here she looked perfectly at ease. They even caught her humming sometimes.

Sam
was told about the change in her and made his way back into the barn to observe her for himself for a while. He had to agree with his men; she did seem to know what she was doing and she looked happy whilst doing it.

He began to wonder if he might have misjudged her.

He smiled as he remembered her spirit earlier, as she told him that she had every right to be here. He hadn’t liked Ivor one bit and hadn’t even known that he had a wife. When the lawyer told him that Ivor’s share was going to his English wife, he had assumed that she must have done something unforgivable to make Ivor leave. When she had turned up, his opinion was confirmed, because there was no way a ladies man like Ivor would willingly leave such a beautiful woman. Her attitude only further cemented his opinion.

She had been so vehement though, that she had been the wronged part
y, and he was inclined to believe her. When he saw her in the tack room later, happily and expertly cleaning and oiling Angel’s saddle and bridle, he was more certain than ever that he had been wrong in his initial judgement. Water splashed her fine gown as she worked but she either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

Still, she’d still be no use to man
nor beast all the while she was as meek as a church mouse, but maybe there was something that he could do about that.

Chapter Six

“So,” Sam asked over dinner that evening. “Can that fancy horse of yours do anything other than look pretty?”

“H
e can do a lot more,” Ruth assured him, although it was nothing like her angry retorts from earlier.

“Really? Like what? H
e looks as if the heat alone will kill him.”

“H
e’s a thoroughbred horse, Mr Wakefield; they aren’t exactly easy to kill.”

“That doesn’t mean he’s any good.”

“He’s highly schooled, Mr Wakefield.” Ruth assured him, her voice becoming a little harder.

“Fine, prove it.”

“I'm sorry?”

“I said, prove it. If you want that horse
to say here, prove to me that he can earn his keep.”

“How can
he earn his keep? We aren’t selling him!”

“Maybe not but he has to be of some use. Can
he neck rein?”

“If I taught him to, I'm sure
he could.” She was becoming defensive.

“Or I could teach him
.” He had visited the bunk house earlier and learned from Joe that she had schooled Angel herself, so he was sure his jibe would rile her.

“You ar
e not sticking a curb bit in his mouth! He
will
learn to neck rein and I will teach him, without resorting to barbaric methods.”

“Barbaric?” he asked
, shocked by her statement.

“I’ve seen how you break in horses on this ranc
h, Mr Wakefield, and it repulses me. Tying their rear legs so they can’t kick or buck. Has it ever occurred to you to break them in gently, over time? Let them get used to having a saddle and rider on their backs?”

“It’s the way my daddy taught me and it’s the way things are done around here.”

“Fine, but neither you, nor any of your men will get their hands on Angel, without my express say so and right now, only Joe is allowed to ride her.”

Sam smiled, know
ing that it annoyed her. “All right, fine. Can he at least gallop?”

“Of course he can.”

“How fast?”

“Probably a good deal faster than any
thing you have on this ranch. He may be a small and elegant horse, but do not mistake that for weakness.”

“Fine, we’ll race tomorrow.” He smiled, as if he had won the argument.

Her expression fell momentarily and then hardened. “Very well. What time would suit you?”

“First thing works for
me, say 9 a.m.? Before the sun gets too hot; just in case your English air cooled his hot blood.”

***

Ruth was up early the next morning, knowing that she really should ride Angel for a while before the race, not only to warm him up but also because he hadn’t worn a side saddle for quite a few weeks now. She was certain that Angel hadn’t forgotten though; he was a clever horse.

As she saddled
Angel up, Joe came into the barn to see her.

“So it’s true, you’re racing today?”

“Mr Wakefield doesn’t believe that Angel is a good horse, so I have to prove him wrong.”

Joe shrugged. He knew she had always been defensive of her horse, he had just never known her to be confrontational.

“Want me to come and cheer you on?”

“I should be fine, but feel free to come and watch,” she smiled at him and led the horse from the stable.
“I’m just going to exercise him for half an hour, make sure that he’s still comfortable with me.”

“Want me to give you a leg up? I didn’t see any mounting blocks around here.”

It was difficult to mount a side saddle without a block, so she accepted.

She rode out of the barn with her head held high and her posture proud. Something about being on horseback
always made her want to sit taller.

***

Sam watched from the porch as the most elegant creature he had ever seen, exited the barn and headed over to one of the paddocks. She effortlessly leaned down and opened the gate from horseback, securing it behind her, and he paused to watch her for a moment.

He had seen a few women in riding habits and riding side saddle in his time, but none of the
m had looked like Ruth. Her habit was a deep shade of blue, which contrasted beautifully with Angel’s almost white coat. The jacket was pinched at the waist, displaying her figure despite the high collar, and the full skirt flared out over the side of the horse, billowing a little in the breeze as she urged Angel into a trot, then a canter. She was also wearing what looked to be a top hat. He wasn’t quite sure how she was securing it but it didn’t seem to be at risk of flying off and in her hand she held a smooth leather show crop, although she rarely used it.

She kept
Angel reined in throughout, his head elegantly tucked in as they exercised.

Next she put the horse into a series of
manoeuvres; figure eights, rein back, a full change at canter, small circles, then the horse seemed to trot on the spot, something Sam had never seen before, and then trot sideways. Finally she performed a series of on the spot jumps where the horse jumped, kicking with his hind legs at the same time.

He was impressed, even
although moves such as these gentle ones had no place on a ranch. Still, he had to get his own horse tacked up, so reluctantly he left her to her exercises.

***

Ruth was waiting in the yard by the paddocks when Sam finally joined her. The other five ranch hands all seemed to be there, as well as Joe on a borrowed mount, and she smiled politely at each of them. She didn’t ask why they were there, because she had a sinking feeling that they had come to see her humiliation.

“Where do you want to do this?” she asked as Sam approached.

“I figure one of the outlying fields is best,” he said. “Shall we judge it over a mile?”

“Very well, lead the way.”

She and the others followed Sam to a far field and one of the riders cantered off across the field, whilst another dismounted and drew a line in the dry dirt with a stick.

“Starting line,” Sam explained. “
The others are going to race in pairs too, it’s good exercise. You want to go first or let the others try?”

“We’ll go second,” she said, knowing that seeing other horses racing would make
Angel more motivated.

“All right. First one to that oak wins.” He pointed to a tree
, where the rider who had cantered off now waited.

“Agreed,” she nodded.

Raoul and Willy went first, with Willy winning by a neck. As predicted, Angel was now restless and more than eager for his turn as she approached the line in the dirt.

“Ready?” one of the hands asked.

“Ready,” Ruth confirmed, holding Angel’s reins tightly, so that Angel didn’t cross the starting line too soon but as soon as the ranch hand called “Go!” she leaned forward and gave Angel the rein. With hardly any encouragement, Angel bolted off across the field at a full gallop.

Ru
th encouraged Angel with her heel on one side and a light touch of the crop on the other side, as she leaned forward and looked between the horse’s ears. She could see Sam and his horse beside her, perhaps a foot behind. She urged Angel to go faster, leaning down closer to his neck and gripping the pommels harder between her thighs.

The race passed in a blur and it seemed to be only moments until she passed the tree and slowed the horse to a canter, then
a walk and headed back to the tree. She had been so focused on Angel that she couldn’t be sure who passed the tree first. Sam joined her and they both looked at the ranch hand.

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