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the only way you can find out is to stop what you're doing at the spring and see if Tundra changes his attitude."
    Tyler 's eyes brightened with amusement, making her heart skip some, as he said, "You mean, roll over and join his pack."
    At once , the female silliness of moments before was replaced by irritation. "You're very one-sided in your quest, having no regard for the feelings of those who place great importance on the spiritual nature of the spring," Rose replied.
    " That spring is no more spiritual than Old Faithful Geyser," Tyler said. "The only difference between the two is that the geyser beneath the spring doesn't rise to the surface because the water's trapped, so instead, steam seeps through fissures and cracks while those sitting in the pool let their imaginations run wild."
    Feeling increasingly exasperated with Tyler's callous attitude, Rose said, "Whether you're right or wrong makes no difference. You're being insensitive in that many people believe there is something mystical about the spring and you should respect that."
    Tyler let out an ironic snort. "If scientists respected everything people considered mystical, they'd still be teaching in school that the earth is flat and ships could fall off. But to relieve your mind for now, I won't be doing anything there until after the rodeo in Wyoming where I'm contracted to perform at the Cody Stampede."
    "Perform… riding on your horse's backs?" Rose asked.
    Tyler nodded. "I'll be taking them in pairs while demonstrating Roman riding."
    Rose found herself blinking rapidly as the dream emerged yet again, almost as clearly as when she stood on the embankment at the Oregon coast while looking across a wide expanse of sandy beach at a man maneuvering six horses in an elongated figure eight.
    Until fifteen minutes ago, when she peered into the clearing and saw Tyler interacting with six nearly-white horses, she'd pegged what happened on the beach as a figment of her imagination. She still wasn't absolutely sure it wasn't a dream.
    Brows gathered, she said, "Do you ever run your horses on the beach at the coast?"
    "Why would I do that?" Tyler asked.
    "I suppose no reason," Rose replied, feeling foolish , realizing once and for all that what transpired at the coast had been nothing as glamorous and romantic as having witnessed the man in the dream her grandmother described come to life at daybreak on an isolated beach. Nor did she want to have romantic feelings for Tyler, so in a sense it was a relief to know that what she'd witnessed had been a fantasy, by whatever form it materialized.
    " Actually I do take them there on occasion," Tyler said. "The sand's good for their muscles, taking them into the surf tests their complete trust in me, and they like running in the water."
    Rose tried to process the reality of it. This man, who lived in an otherwise spiritual vacuum, had an almost mystical bond with his horses. She was even having trouble convincing herself that she should stay clear of someone whose short term goal was to desecrate a spring that hundreds of people praised. But there was still a chance that his trip to the coast and her dream were isolated incidents. On the long shot that they were, she said, "Did you happen to take them there a couple of weeks ago?"
    Tyler eyed her curiously, like her question surprised him. Then he nodded, and replied, "I check the tide tables and go early in the morning of a low outgoing tide, when no one's on the beach, but apparently you were there too."
    " Yes," Rose said, "but not on the beach. I was on a rise above the beach. The family of a friend of mine has a weekend house and when the family's not using it, friends can stay. It was a clear night so I decided to sleep out. I love sleeping under the stars and do it whenever I can, and I especially love it at the ocean where the sky's wide open and you can see forever."
    Tyler looked at her in a way that had Rose's heart hammering because it was the same look she'd seen