To Tame a Wild Mustang by J. Rose Allister

Author:J. Rose Allister [Allister, J. Rose]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Erotic Fiction, Ménage à Trois, Western, Romance
ISBN: 9781610346832
Google: lszwXwAACAAJ
Amazon: B0051WAVHY
Barnesnoble: B0051WAVHY
Goodreads: 11474309
Publisher: Siren Publishing
Published: 2011-04-26T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

William pulled off his neckerchief to mop his sweaty face. His eyes stung from more than salty drops of perspiration, and the dust kicked up by the horse beside him. Fatigue held him in an iron grip, courtesy of two nights with almost no sleep. Two nights spent lying in bed, unable to stop thinking about the woman who somehow made him complete and splintered at the same time. The woman who made it clear she didn’t share his feelings for her. Offers from Jack to pass some of those long, torturous nighttime hours together had been rejected. Somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to share the comfort of the man’s muscled, potent embrace without Kate beside them.

Fireball sidestepped away from him, snorting in obvious disapproval over William’s latest attempt to turn the wild mare into a civilized riding partner. Leave it to him to actually find the new stallion easier to domesticate than the female, which was proving as stubborn and mule-minded as the woman who had tamed her. Nightwind would make a good breeding male and could likely fetch a bonus if the stallion proved a decent riding animal as well. Whether Fireball would become either remained to be seen. Right now she was protesting the saddle blanket he’d set on her back almost as much as the soft leather halter she wore on her head. Her teeth and tongue worked the bit.

He soothed her with calm words, stroking a forelock of red hair away from the blaze of white cresting her forehead. “Come on, now, it ain’t so bad. That’s my softest trail blanket. It’s not like I slung a forty-pound saddle on you. You’ll love that.”

“Will.” Jack’s voice came from just outside the fence. “Someone here to see yeh.”

For a moment his heart sped up, thinking maybe Kate had come back. William settled his hat on his head and twisted around to his hired man, whose wary expression suggested something other than a call from the hoss doc. In fact, the man’s face looked more like the time the sheriff had decided to visit.

William set his jaw. “Well, who is it?”

Another man stepped into view with an expression even more grim than Jack’s. William nodded. “It’s all right, Jack. You can go on and check the herd now.”

The “herd” was barely a herd and needed no checking, but Jack took the hint and left. If he knew his ranch hand, however, William would wager the man wouldn’t stray too far off.

“Tyler,” the man said, propping a worn boot heel on a lower rail of the fence. “Guess yer wonderin’ who I am.”

“No, sir.” He left the mare and came along the opposite side of the fence. “You’re Clyde Marsh.” He hesitated, and then extended his hand over the top of the fence.

The man stared at the offered handshake as though it were a snake about to strike. Instead of accepting the gesture, he leaned his forearms on the fence, clasping leathery hands while they dangled over the edge.

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