she was clumsy? There was no way in the world that sheâd turn around and expose her spine to whatever was jouncing those tree branches.
A cougar had swept her from the back of a horse once before. She refused to let it happen again.
âCâmon!â Sam hissed, but neither horse followed. She flung her weight against the rope and reins, knowing she wasnât hurting the animals half as much as a cougar would.
The horses seemed mesmerized. Of course, they werenât remembering that smell, or the sight of a cougar gnawing a deer long-frozen in a snow bank not far from here.
She had to scare the cat off, but how? If she bent over to pick up a rock to throw, sheâd look like four-legged prey. That was out. She could yell, maybe, but would she be safer in the saddle? Sure, if she was riding Ace. Heâd hightail it out of here like the mustang he was, but what about the injured horse?
Sam drew a breath, determined to make a commotion. She hoped the honey-colored mare was terrified enough to outdistance a predator before it identified her as lame.
What was that? Ace snorted and both horsesâ ears pointed as something struck the ground across the creek. Sam whirled to look, too.
Good. Whatever it was had moved to the other side of the water.
Samâs shoulders sagged with relief an instant before her brain reminded her cats didnât like to swim, and she would have seen it pounce. Before she could make sense of those facts a dark shadow blocked the sun, and something landed heavily behind her.
Chapter Three
R eeling with panic, Sam turned to face her attacker.
âNext time you steal a horse you might pick one with four good legs.â
Jake Ely wore running clothes. He leaned forward with his hands on his thighs to stare at the palominoâs front hoof, then used the back of one hand to brush at a twig caught in his black hair.
He looked pretty casual for a guy whoâd practically given her a heart attack, a guy who was about to pay for it big-time.
Samâs thoughts vanished under an avalanche of outrage. She didnât mean to drop the end of her rope. It just happened. One second she was picturingherself gripping his shoulders and shaking him until his teeth clacked together and the next second sheâd pushed off from the ground and launched herself right at him.
Of course it didnât work out the way sheâd pictured it.
She charged.
Jake sidestepped.
She whirled around to take another run at him. He bent, grabbed her rope as it trailed past, and caught the palomino. Then he rolled his eyes sympathetically at Ace as if they were both so used to Samâs dramatics.
How could she punish him, but not traumatize the horses?
Sam knew she probably shouldnât waste time wondering. The wild mare fidgeted at the end of the rope, looking more fascinated by Jake than frightened.
In that moment of quiet, Sam heard her own quick, shallow breaths. Jake studied her like she was an amoeba under a microscope. She couldnât put together a sentence to tell him to stop.
âYou look pale.â
âWhat I look is homicidal,â Sam managed, but then she wrecked her sarcasm by feeling so dizzy she had to grab an aspen trunk for support. How could he have scared her so badly?
âSit down before you fall down,â Jake insisted.
Something about that order made Samâs weakness vanish, and she was pretty sure her voice soundedcalm as she said, âIâm not going to faint. Iâm going to wipe that grin off your stupid face.â
Totally on its own, her right arm swung through the air, hand fisted.
He grabbed her wrist.
âNot like that, you wonât,â Jake said. Instantly he released her wrist and took a step back.
âI know youâre not giving me advice on how to beat you up.â Sam rubbed her wrist as if it hurt, but it didnât.
âPunchinâs a useful skill for a horse thief,â Jake said, then tilted his