Chapter 1
San Joaquin Valley, California, Spring 1885
I’m nearly seventeen years old and “quite grown up” now according to my sister Melinda. That’s her way of saying it’s time to put running and racing and ranching behind me and start thinking about a beau. I’m not ready to think about a beau. And the only thing I’ve put behind me is school. It’s a good thing Melinda can’t see me on Saturday afternoons.
“Take it easy, Andi. Slow down!”
With the April breeze tearing at her long, dark braid, Andrea Carter only dimly heard the warning shout from twenty yards behind her. Slow down? Just when she and her colt had hit their stride and were doing so well together?
If one of her brothers had bellowed at her like that, Andi would have paid no attention. She was tempted to ignore Riley Prescott too, but an inner caution slammed down hard against the you’re-not-my-boss syndrome that had plagued Andi from early childhood. Her quick temper had landed her in trouble more times than she could count.
Not this time, she decided. Especially when Riley really was her boss this afternoon.
She gave Shasta’s reins a reluctant tug to show Riley she was listening but was not happy about it. Shasta tossed his head at the slight pressure on the bit and kept up his smooth, loping stride.
“I don’t blame you,” Andi soothed him. She pressed her lips tightly together and huffed. “We better do what he says, though, or no more trick riding for us.”
She wanted to glimpse behind her shoulder and give Riley a dirty look for spoiling their fun, but she dared not. Standing atop her chocolate palomino’s back at a steady lope took all her concentration. A sudden misstep or an abrupt change of gait and off she’d fly. Lesson over. For good. Andi could take a tumble, but she’d better not take one while disregarding Riley’s instructions.
She eased Shasta to a slower pace and waited for Riley to catch up. When he trotted up alongside her, a smile of approval split his sun-browned face. Hazel eyes twinkled from beneath his wide-brimmed hat. “Well, you’re learning.”
“What do you mean? This trick is easy as pie.” Andi nudged Shasta over a fallen log in her path. The horse took the low jump without a break in his stride. Andi grinned and gently dropped to a sitting position in the saddle. “I can do this in my sleep.”
The standing-while-riding stunt should be easy. Andi had worked on it often enough the past two months. Every Saturday afternoon—rain or shine—she badgered Riley until he set aside what he was doing and accompanied her to the soft ground up by her special spot in the high pasture.
“Your stunt looks fine,” Riley assured her. “No worries there. Shasta is a natural, and nine-tenths of any stunt depends on the horse. However . . .” He paused. “I saw you stiffen before you reined Shasta in. You didn’t want to do what I asked but then thought better of it.” He winked. “Good choice.”
Oh. That. Andi rolled her eyes. “You know it was my only choice.”
“Yes, it was,” Riley agreed with a meaningful nod.
It had taken a heap of convincing, but Andi’s plea to learn a few safe riding tricks had finally fallen on sympathetic ears. After her close brush with death last spring and the devastating loss of her mare, Taffy, it appeared Mother had thawed. Perhaps she thought this distraction would bring back the sparkle in her youngest daughter’s eyes.
Big brother and ranch boss Chad had stayed wary. He saw nothing safe about reckless, risky stunts. “Father was killed when he was thrown off his horse,” he reminded Andi. “Why would I let you do something that could result in the same tragic end?”
But he couldn’t brush aside Andi’s wistful pleading for very long and eventually gave in. “Oh, all right. If it means that much to you, go ahead. I reckon you’re old enough to make your own decision. But—”
Andi’s squeal of thanks had cut off whatever else Chad planned to say. She engulfed him in a bear hug and then whirled for the back door. Her knee twitched, evoking memories of past injuries, but it didn’t slow her down. She dashed outside to share the good news with Taffy’s colt, Shasta.
Later on, Andi wondered if learning to trick ride had really been her own decision after all. The way Riley stuck to her side like a stubborn tick and watched Shasta’s every step made Andi suspect she didn’t have as much say in the matter as she had first thought. The promise she gave Chad to never practice a stunt alone or without Riley’s say-so also rankled her.
“Chad doesn’t trust me,” she muttered, remembering his long list of conditions.
Riley shoved his hat back from his forehead. “Did you say something?” He squinted at her against the sun.
Andi slowed Shasta to a walk. She had plenty to say. “I want to know why you yelled at me to slow down.” Her waving arm took in the gently sloping pasture, still green and lush with the kiss of spring. “The ground is smooth, or at least as smooth as it gets up here. The trees are well out of range of any accidental collision.”
“That’s true.”
“I’ve explored every square inch for more than a hundred yards up and down the creek,” Andi challenged. Years ago, she had claimed this section of the Circle C ranch for her own. “There was no reason to slow down.”
“None that you know of,” Riley put in quietly.
Andi hesitated, not certain how to respond. She had to watch her step with this young man. They’d been good friends as children, but Riley left the ranch early on. During his eight-year absence, he had grown up much faster than Andi. At nineteen, he already showed all the patience of her brother Justin but with Chad’s hard-headedness.
A tricky combination.
When she didn’t reply, Riley pointed out a clump of oak trees just ahead on the left. “I spotted a couple of deer nosing around in there. You never know which way they’ll bolt when startled. They headed up the creek, but they could just as easily have jumped out in front of Shasta.”
Andi ducked her head, chagrined. She had not seen the danger. “Oh. I thought maybe you . . .” She left the rest unsaid.
“That I hollered just to see what you’d do?” A hint of annoyance slipped into his voice. “I don’t toss orders around for the fun of it. You should know that by now.”
Andi reddened. She did know it.
“My reputation’s on the line here,” he went on. “You get seriously injured just once with this stunt-riding folderol, and my word is not worth a dime to your family. I’ll be sent packing.”
Andi’s head snapped up. “No, you won’t. Chad’s grooming you to take over as one of his foremen, especially since your Uncle Sid is really showing his age this spring.”
“That may be,” Riley said. “But there are plenty of other solid candidates for foremen on this spread. Chad, however, has only one baby sister.” He smiled to soften his words.
Andi ignored the baby-sister remark. “Then why did you agree to teach me the stunts in the first place?” she asked, suddenly fearful for Riley’s career on the Circle C. “I mean, if something goes so wrong that you’re afraid you’d lose your job.”
She had taken several spills while learning the stand-up trick, minor falls that did nothing more than exasperate her or knock her breath out. From Riley’s point of view, however, it might appear he was taking a big chance letting Andi play at stunt-riding. Why would he risk it?
“That’s easy to answer,” Riley said. “I know how much you’ve always wanted to learn them—ever since we were little and you saw me do this trick on Midnight. Besides, I’m having fun too. As long as you do what I say, you won’t get hurt beyond a little tumble now and then.” He winked. “And I won’t lose my job.”
Andi gave him a scheming grin. “Then you’ll teach me the somersault trick?”
Riley set his jaw. “No, not that one.”
“Why not?”
“It’s too dangerous. Your skirt could get caught when you leave the saddle. You might fall on your head and break your neck, or be thrown from the horse too soon and get trampled.” He shook his head. “The timing has to be exactly right, and you have to be willing to take some bad spills to perfect it.”
“I’m willing.” Andi held her breath, remembering how splendid the cowhand Toledo looked spinning over his horse’s head and landing right beside him. Even after two years, the somersault trick stayed fresh in Andi’s mind. It couldn’t be that risky. Toledo had made it look incredibly easy.
“I’m not willing,” Riley said with finality. “Neither you nor Shasta are ready for that one.”
Andi blew out the breath she’d been holding.
“But,” he added quickly, “I’m willing to teach you the pickup stunt. It takes two riders—one a lot bigger than the other. If we do it right, I swing you up from the ground and you land just behind the cantle of my saddle.”
“You’ll teach me today? Right now?”
“Sure. It won’t take long.” Riley trotted his appaloosa to the nearest tree and waved Andi over. “Come tie Shasta up. We’ll need Dakota for this trick. You’ve got a big, well-muscled colt, but he’s not quite four years old. I don’t want to strain his back.”
Andi hurried over. She eagerly alighted from Shasta and flung the reins around a low-hanging branch. “What do I do?” She stepped clear of the trees. Her heart set up a steady drumming. It was always scary to try a stunt for the first time.
Riley brought Dakota around. “Just stand in one place and face me. Hold out your left hand real high and get ready to let me grab it when Dakota gallops past.”
“Sounds easy enough.”
In spite of her confident words, Andi’s hands felt slick with sweat. She wiped them along the sides of her split skirt and hoped she wouldn’t slip out of Riley’s grip when the time came.
“It is easy, but there’s a tricky part,” Riley warned her. “A split second before our wrists meet, you need to kick off with your right foot to get a head start off the ground. I’ll hold you tight and—if we’ve timed it right—you’ll fly up in an arc and land behind the saddle.” He grinned. “Nothing to it. I do all the work. You’re in charge of the timing.”
Andi bounced up and down on her toes, barely able to stand still. “Are you sure Dakota won’t shy away when he passes me?”
Riley shrugged. “If he does, I’ll bring him around again. He’ll get used to it in a jiffy.” He nudged Dakota, and the horse immediately broke into a trot. When they’d crossed the clearing, he whirled and patted Dakota. “Get ready!” he called.
Andi stuck her left hand out at an angle so Riley could reach it. Her heart thudded against the inside of her ribcage as fast as the appaloosa’s galloping hooves. She’d practiced the stand-up trick in stages—first kneeling, then crouching, then finally standing up on Shasta’s back. But this new trick was all or nothing. She mentally begged Dakota not to shy away at the last second.
Before Andi knew it, Riley and his horse were racing past. Just before they clasped hands, Andi kicked off the ground. She sailed smoothly into the air and came down hard right behind the saddle. Riley let go.
Andi cheered. “We did it, Riley! It’s like fly—”
Dakota’s frightened whinny cut off Andi’s victory shout. He snorted at the weight dumped on his rear end and threw back his head. Then he crow-hopped mid-step to dislodge the unwelcome rider.
Andi made a grab for Riley’s waist, but Dakota’s jerky movements wrenched her free. She flopped to her belly and scrabbled for the cantle, all the while slipping farther over Dakota’s rump. “Riley!”
“Whoa there.” Riley twisted around in the saddle and lunged for Andi’s arm.
Too late. The sudden drop from lope to halt wrenched Andi loose from her precarious perch. Time stood still as first her legs then the rest of her body slid away.
Andi was going over and there was nothing she could do about it.