Read Firelight at Mustang Ridge for Free Online Page A

loud.
    â€œMaybe. You’ve got it in the pit and the river is right there. But just last week an ember from a near-dead wildfire caught on a current of air, carried a mile, and torched Gabe and Winnie Sears’s place. House, barns, and all. They got their five kids and some personal stuff out, and let the livestock run loose, but the rest is gone, just like that.” He snapped his fingers. “Didn’t take more than an hour. It’s that dry right now. Anyway.” He shrugged. “I was on my way to Mustang Ridge, smelled the smoke, and figured on the worst case. I’d apologize for overreacting—”
    â€œDon’t,” she said. “I get it. I’ll douse it, and keep the cook fire small from now on.” She stuck her hands in her pockets, suddenly off-balance and feeling like she had already forgotten how to talk to another human being. Especially one that looked like him. “Sorry I clobbered you.”
    He touched his cheek. “Good aim you’ve got there. Between that and the gun, I guess I don’t have to worry about you taking care of yourself.”
    â€œNo. I like being alone.”
    â€œWell, then.” He gave a low whistle, and the paint horse ambled over from where it had been standing hipshot near the RV. Mounting up, he gathered his reins, then leaned down and stretched out a hand. “I’m Sam Babcock, by the way.”
    That surprised a laugh out of her. “Danielle Traveler. Danny.” His grip was firm, his hands broad across the palms, with strong, capable fingers, long thumbs, and big, sturdy joints. They weren’t calloused right to be climber’s hands, but he definitely worked with them. Was he one of those hunky cowboys that Kiki-from-Cambridge had been chirping about?
    Drawing away, he touched the brim of his hat. “Maybe I’ll see you around, Miz Traveler.”
    â€œMaybe.”
Probably not,
she thought, and was surprised to feel a small pinch of regret. “And Sam?”
    â€œYeah?”
    â€œDo me a favor and don’t mention the tent, okay?” She figured that a guy like him, with eyes like that, wouldn’t miss that she was living in a two-man tent rather than the camper. “Krista’s been so sweet about the campsite, the supplies, the RV . . . I don’t want to hurt her feelings.”
    â€œBut you’d rather feel the breeze.” Her surprise must have shown on her face, because he patted the bedroll strapped to the back of his saddle. “Your secret is safe with me.”
    Touching his gelding to a jog, he headed out alongthe riverbank, man and horse making a heck of a picture riding beside the water with the trees closing in and the canyon walls rising up to the blue, blue sky. When he reached the cut-through where the river emptied through the rock wall surround, he turned back and lifted a hand in farewell.
    Caught watching him, she returned the gesture. And darned if she didn’t keep watching as he disappeared through the gap in the canyon wall.
    *   *   *
    â€œTell me again how she clocked you with a copy of
Moby-Dick
and then held you at gunpoint?” Wyatt poked Sam below the swollen cut on his cheek. “Does that hurt?”
    â€œOw!” Sam socked him in the shoulder. “Yes. And it wasn’t
Moby-Dick
, it was
Adrift
. Or maybe
Perfect Storm
. One of the Bad Things Happening at Sea books that got turned into a movie but didn’t have a whale in it.”
    They were sprawled at one of the picnic tables out by the barbecue pit, where the first-aid kit had wound up after one of the assistant wranglers had split his thumb open with a hammer, working on a construction project that was new since Sam’s last visit.
    â€œStill, she really nailed you,” Wyatt said with poorly faked concern. “That’s going to bruise like a mother.”
    â€œI’ve had worse.” Tipping his head toward where Ed