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think I’ve got it.”
    â€œOh, I know you could do it without me.” Emily slipped out onto the street and strode toward the horse trailers, as excited and energetic as the animals whinnying in the confines. “But I really don’t want to miss this!”
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    â€œA T WHAT POINT are you going to stop using me to dodge your familial difficulties?” Dylan asked Emily, after the papers transferring financial responsibility to Shane and care of the mustangs to Dylan were signed and they were headed out to their vehicles.
    â€œNever?” Emily paused at the door of her car.
    Dylan peered down at her. “Think again.”
    She hit the unlock button on the automatic keypad. “Look, I owe you for last night, and thus far you’ve refused to let me pay you back with free food, so I’m left to come up with another way to pay off my debt. This is it.”
    Dylan curved a hand over the top of her open door as sheclimbed in behind the wheel. He leaned down so they were face to face. “I repeat. You do not have to do this.”
    â€œSure I do. For the very same reason you don’t ever let a lady pay your way.”
    He should have known she would use his words against him.
    She smiled, unperturbed. “So I’ll help you with the mustangs.”
    Damn, if she wasn’t used to getting her own way, even if it meant upsetting the hard-earned tranquility of his life.
    â€œJust understand,” Dylan said, “when you’re out there, playtime is over. I’m putting you to work.”
    Turning the key in the ignition, she shot him a sassy look. “Bring it on!”
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    E MILY COULDN’T WAIT to get a good look at the horses. She bounded out of her car the moment she arrived at Dylan’s ranch. She set her hat on her head and strode toward him. “What do you want me to do?”
    Dylan turned, all business and all cowboy. “Honestly? Stay out of the way,” he said, grimacing.
    Emily blew out a disappointed breath. Before she could figure out how to persuade him otherwise, he took a step closer and growled, “I mean it, Emily. I don’t want you getting trampled.”
    Emily followed him over to a big round corral with high metal-bar sides. “I’ve been around horses all my life.”
    Dylan opened the gate wide and motioned for the truck carrying the two yearlings. He directed the driver to back slowly toward the opening. “These mustangs are completely different from the domesticated cutting horses your father breeds and trains. These horses are wild, down to the core.”
    Hand to her shoulder, Dylan guided her to the outside ofthe pen, then walked back around to the rear of the enclosed vehicle.
    Emily’s heartbeat picked up as he opened the trailer and let the first horse out.
    It was a filly, about six months old, with a speckled white coat and an ivory mane, her beauty marred only by the identifying freeze marks on her neck. She whinnied as she came barreling out of confinement and raced to the other end of the pen. Emily could see she was frightened—she was standing with her tail puckered tight against her hindquarters and the back of her legs.
    Dylan stood quietly, as did Emily, as the filly trembled and kept her head up.
    Dylan let the second horse out—a jet-black gelding about a year old. His head was up, too—his tail wringing in anger. Obviously, he had not appreciated the long ride. Or maybe the procedure that had put the freeze marks on his neck, Emily thought. He galloped across the pen, his ebony mane flying, and took a protective position next to the smaller white filly.
    They were already forming a herd, Emily thought.
    Moving purposefully and calmly, Dylan stepped out and shut the gate. The first truck drove off.
    The next trailer backed toward the pen.
    When it was in position, Dylan opened the gate and released the third horse.
    Emily caught her breath as the mare kicked and bucked her