The Trouble With Cowboys Read Online Free

classes?”
    After years as an investigative reporter, Wade’s wife had gone back to school for a teaching degree. Dylan couldn’t imagine anyone more suited for the job.
    “She just got out for the summer. Good thing, since she’s not getting any more sleep than me.”
    They put away the tools and horses, working mostly in silence. Braveheart snorted and tossed his head.
    Wade stopped by the stall. “He’s no better?”
    Dylan hung the saddle in the tack room and approached the stall where Braveheart stamped restlessly. “Don’t know what to do with him. Had a horse trainer from Sweet Grass out several times this week, but he’s getting nowhere.”
    “Never thought I’d see Braveheart go bronc-y like this.”
    “He’s afraid—can’t say I blame him. Just wish I knew how to help. Any ideas?”
    Wade shoved his hands into his pockets. “Maybe if he weren’t cooped up. Tried letting him out?”
    “I’m half afraid to, the way he spooks.” Dylan put out his hand, and Braveheart settled a bit, nickering softly. “Maybe you’re right. Nothing else is working.”
    He fetched a halter and lead and put them on the horse. “Better stand back,” he said, opening the gate.
    Braveheart snorted and tossed his head but followed Dylan’s lead through the barn. “That’s right, buddy. Let’s get you some fresh air.”
    At the threshold Braveheart stumbled and reared. Dylan tried to soothe him, but the horse darted sideways, squealing. His body barreled into Dylan and a hoof clipped Dylan’s knee.
    He hit the dirt hard, the breath leaving his body. Braveheart tore off for the field.
    Wade jogged toward Dylan. “You all right?”
    Dylan sucked in a breath, then accepted the hand up, dusting off the dirt. “Fine.” He frowned at his horse, now bouncing around the field, the lead swinging. “Getting him back in will be a challenge.”
    “Guess it wasn’t such a bright idea.”
    “Maybe he’ll settle soon. Just hope he doesn’t hurt himself.” He was glad the horse was well away from the fence. Poor thing might just slam into it.
    “Need to get Annie Wilkerson over here,” Wade said. “Bet she could help him.”
    “I already asked her at the Chuckwagon last week.”
    “And here I thought you were only putting the moves on her.”
    “Yeah, that too.” For all the good it had done him. He’d had plenty of company that night, but he couldn’t deny his attention had been on the table for two in the corner instead of on his dancing partners.
    “She can’t do it,” Dylan said. “Too busy.”
    Wade tossed him a wry grin. “Time for some of that famous Taylor charm, then.”
    Dylan pressed his lips together. “Already tried. That’s about the time she gave me the other trainer’s number.”
    Wade laughed. “Immune to the Taylor charm. Love it. Maybe she discovered a vaccine. Maybe she’ll inoculate all the other gals in town.”
    “You’re a real hoot.” Maybe he should ask her again. That Roy was getting nowhere with Braveheart, and neither was he.
    “You know, one more woman isn’t going to scratch that itch of yours. One of these days, you’re gonna have to deal with what’s really stuck in your craw.”
    “And what would that be?”
    Wade stuffed his hands in his pockets again. “You’re running just as scared as Braveheart, and you know it.”
    Dylan clamped his jaw. Mighty brave of his friend to broach that subject. Brave or stupid. “My itches are getting scratched just fine, thanks very much.” He reached for a change of topic. “Anyway, I thought you liked Annie.”
    “She’s a sweet gal. But she’s seeing John Oakley, isn’t she?”
    “That’s just because she hasn’t had a taste of me yet,” Dylan said. He could hardly forget that the one time he had touched her she’d responded as if he’d jabbed her with a branding iron.
    “If Oakley’s the type she goes for, you’re dead in the water. ’Sides, best I could tell, she wasn’t looking so receptive at the