The Sunstone Brooch : Time Travel Romance by Katherine Logan (i am reading a book TXT) 📕

She didn’t deserve sweet and charming.

If life imitated art, she knew what would happen here, just like all the lying heroines in stories she’d edited. They all got busted, and the heroes ended up hating them.

Just thinking about Austin and TR hating her for lying made her sick, but she couldn’t be honest with either of them…at least not right now.

45

The Badlands (1885)—Ensley

The air was thick with the smell of unwashed men, cattle, horses, early morning dew, and topped off with the tempting aromas of sizzling bacon and black coffee. The moos and bellows competed with the grumbles and cracking joints from dozens of cowboys.

And Ensley felt right at home.

She was sitting in Norman’s chair, drinking her third cup of coffee and hoping it would wake her up when Austin and Remy arrived at the campfire. She hadn’t seen either of them since she said good-night to Austin after his pillow-dunking exhibition and their stroll along the river.

As tired as she’d been, thoughts of him interfered with the deep breathing and relaxation techniques she used to calm her body and mind so she could fall asleep. Then when she finally drifted off, erotic dreams starring Austin woke her. Damn. Why him? Why not JC, or Remy, or even TR? It made no sense.

Remy and Austin couldn’t see her sitting in the shadow of the wagon, but she could see them easily in the firelight. Austin’s height and broad shoulders made him recognizable anywhere. Man, he was big. Her mind replayed a reel of one of her dreams—the hottest one, and her face flamed.

“This sucks,” Austin grumbled. “I’m not here to play cowboy and chase down rogue cows. Let’s grab Ensley and go home.”

His grumbling threw cold water on her fantasies, and her face cooled.

“Shut the fuck up.” Remy grabbed a tin cup off the pot rack in the firepit and poured in the thick, black brew. “If you want to sit your ass right here, do it. But if you want to prove to all those cowboys that you deserve last night’s accolades, then get some coffee and saddle your goddamn horse.”

“I will, but I want pain meds.”

“Not happening. If you act like a human, I’ll give you something tonight to take the edge off.”

“You’re an asshole,” Austin said. “Do you have any idea how much pain I’m in?”

“Not as much as you think you are. You’re so used to taking something when you get an ache that now even a pinch makes you yelp. And, by the way, you’re an asshole too.”

Ensley had heard enough and wanted to get far away from Austin and his foul mouth. She dumped the coffee dregs on the ground and left the tin cup in the wrecking pan. But before walking away, she shoved her bedroll into the front of the wagon and collected the snack Norman left for her—biscuits wrapped in a piece of cloth.

“How long is this going to take?” Austin demanded.

Take for what?

She’d already lost the thread of Austin and Remy’s argument. It was time to get to work. She grabbed her tack and rushed off to meet TR at the remuda, finding him in a huddle with Sewall and Dow. He was passing out assignments from the captain of the roundup.

“Morning. Are you men ready to catch some cows?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” Dow said. “We got our orders and are heading out. Are you riding that big black horse you rode in on yesterday?”

She dropped the saddle, and in the blue light of dawn, did a visual sweep of the thirty horses TR had in his remuda. They were all tied to one of four picket lines. “Ferdiad’s not trained to be a cow pony. I’ll ride one of your cutting horses.”

“They’re barely saddle broke, ma’am,” Sewall said.

“I can handle ‘barely,’ but a green horse would be a challenge this morning.” She pressed a hand to her hip in anticipation of how much worse it would feel later. Maybe Remy would give her one of Austin’s pain pills.

Don’t even go there. Stick to stretching.

“But I’ll ride whatever you give me.” If the horse threw her, she couldn’t walk away, or she’d lose respect. Maybe not with TR and his crew, but with the others in camp. And the news would spread quickly. She’d have to get up, brush off her ass, and do it again…and again…and again.

The roundup was one big competition, and as the only woman there, she had to prove herself. Austin and TR’s protection would only carry her so far. The rest she had to earn on her own.

“My favorite cutting horse is Muley,” TR said. “You can ride him.”

“I don’t want to take your horse.” She spotted a chestnut quarter horse at the end of one of the picket lines that reminded her of one she’d seen at a rodeo many years ago who had lots of cow sense and athleticism. Maybe this horse would, too. She pointed to the chestnut. “I’ll take him. What’s his name?”

“Lucky, and he’s too green, Miss Ensley. Pick another one,” Sewall said.

She’d argued with TR about riding Tesoro and ended up with a remarkable horse. This morning she was willing to trust her judgment again. “Nope. He’s the one I want.”

“I agree with Bill, Mrs. Fraser. Pick another one,” TR said.

“Today is my lucky day. Might as well ride a horse named Lucky.”

Sewall threaded the brim of his hat through long, slender fingers. “If you insist on riding him, then let me help you saddle up.”

“I won’t object to that.” She followed him over to the horse, lugging her saddle. “Has he ever been saddled before?”

“A few times. He’ll calm down once he figures out you’re in charge.”

She knew how to ride a bucking horse. As long as she didn’t panic, she’d be okay. “Switch out the halter for the bridle, and I’ll see how Lucky handles the saddle.” She walked around the horse, patting his withers, flank, shoulders,