Rodeo Sweetheart Read Online Free Page B

on purpose, didn’t you?”
    Sam shrugged, not wanting to admit he was right. The mare’s name was girlie, but the older horse was stubborn. Sam had a feeling if anyone could put Ethan in his place, it would be Miss Priss.
    “Well, I’m sure me and the little lady will get along great.” Ethan brushed his hands on his jeans with a pointed look at his mom, who was still picking horse hair off her palm.
    “Mrs. Ames, would you like help mounting?” Sam turned her back to Ethan.
    Vickie looked up with a relieved smile. “That would be great. I don’t know if you can tell, but I’m not used to being around horses much.”
    No kidding. Sam worked to keep her smile natural as she boosted the woman into the saddle, glad Vickie was at least wearing jeans and riding boots, even if they did look so new she’d surely have a blister by the end of the ride. Angie made a point of stating on the ranch’s Web site to bring comfortable, worn-in clothing for riding, but ninety percent of their guests ignored the suggestion and were usually miserable by the end of the week. Sam had never understood the fashion-over-function mindset.
    Beside her, Cole shook back his dark hair in frustration as if he’d noticed the same thing. “Greenhorns,” he mumbled as he handed the reins to another tourist.
    “Can I get a leg up, too?”
    Sam ignored Ethan’s taunting call from two horses away, focusing on adjusting the stirrup length for Vickie instead. He was apparently determined to get to her again today, and Sam was just as determined not to let him.
    “You know, since I’m not a real cowboy.” His teasing continued.
    Sam moved to work on the second stirrup, keeping her eyes averted from Ethan’s position beside Miss Priss. Ignore him, ignore him. Cole could help him mount. Not that Ethan actually needed help mounting, he just wanted to rub in Sam’s face her verbal mistake from last night.
    “Please, Samantha? ”
    Sam dropped the stirrup abruptly, jostling Vickie’s leg, and glared across the fence at Ethan. “You know, I thought they said mules were stubborn. Not—”
    Angie bumped into Sam as she appeared next to her, effectively cutting off Sam’s sentence. “Lovely day, isn’t it, Mrs. Ames? Hot, but beautiful. That’s Texas for you.” Angie finished adjusting the stirrup and shot Sam a warning look. “Go help him,” she whispered. She smiled back up at Mrs. Ames. “I love that blouse.”
    Sam rubbed her face with both hands before slowly walking to Ethan’s side, leaving her mother and Vickie chatting about clothing labels in her wake. She hated that her mother had arrived to hear her comment. God, I’m losing it. Please cool my temper. I don’t know why this guy gets to me so badly. Sam sucked in a fresh breath of air and forced a smile at Ethan. “Need a leg up, you said?”
    “Nah, I got it now.” He swung into the saddle and reached down to adjust his heel in the stirrup.
    Sam fought to keep the shock off her face and nodded stiffly. “Fine.” She knew he’d been faking asking for assistance. Sam felt Ethan’s eyes on her back as she quickly moved to finish saddling Diego, and stifled a groan. This was going to be the world’s longest trail ride.
     
    Would this trail ride never end? Ethan shifted in the saddle and his thigh muscles screamed in discomfort. How did Sam do it? She rode like she’d been born in a saddle, leading their small group through the shaded woods, pausing occasionally to gesture to a particular grouping of trees or a historical marker. Her back stayed straight, her hips relaxed, moving like she and that red horse were one being.
    He and Miss Priss, however, were getting along more like a bull and a rodeo clown. He nudged her forward, she stopped. He pulled on the reins, she picked up her pace. He said “whoa,” she tossed her head and insisted on moving forward.
    Apparently real horses were nothing like that carousel his mother made him ride as a boy in Central Park—a fact