LITMIR.BIZ

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gentle him so that a child could ride him.”

      “Do you have one in mind?” He glanced away. “A kid to show the horse at the end of the competition.”

      “I just meant he’d be that gentle. Gentle enough for anyone to ride.” Her voice softened. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been around children.”

      “Where’s your dog?”

      “Halfway across the world.” She turned to him, shoulders squared, right hand his for the shaking. “Mary Tutan. Sergeant Mary Tutan, U.S. Army. Home on leave.”

      “Logan Wolf Track. Home to stay.”

      “Lucky you.” Her hand slid away. He wasn’t a shaker. In his world hands greeted without pressure, palm to palm. He liked her friendly smile. “Sally and I have been friends since we were kids, and I really love what she’s doing here. Just so you know, whatever her side is, I’m on it.” Her straight hair flew back from her face as she turned it into the soft summer wind. “That paint is nice, too. And I like the pretty red roan.”

      “You wanna win this thing, or not?”

      She gave a quick laugh. “If I were in it, I’d be in it to win it.”

      “The paint’s too narrow across the shoulders, and that roan is walleyed.” “Wild-eyed?”

      “Same thing. In this case you’re not lookin’ to see the whites of their eyes. Same with dogs, right? All you wanna see in the eyes is color.” Forearms braced on the fence rail, he glanced past his shoulder and met her studied gaze. She was taking mental notes. He nodded. “I like your first choice.”

      “Me, too. If wishes were horses, that’s the one I’d ride.”

      “I can make that wish come true for you. If you’re serious.” Her eyes questioned him again. “Your friend Sally has something up her sleeve. Maybe you know what it is.”

      “An arm.” She smiled. “Sally plays by the rules. She doesn’t pull tricks. I’m sure she’d love to—”

      “That’s exactly what she said. She’d love to have me compete, but she wants me to take on a partner, and she strongly suggested you.” Surprised? Check. Nothing up Mary Tutan’s short, unrestricted sleeve. Open for further explanation. “You apply for the competition. You train the horse. I train you.”

      “She said that?”

      Recalling his own reaction—less surprise, more irritation—Logan chuckled. “I think she’s making up the rules as she goes along, which makes it easy to play by them if you’re Sally. Thing is, I like Sally and I might just be willing to give her game a shot. How about you?”

      She searched his face for signs of sense. “I only have thirty days.”

      “I have whatever it takes.” He smiled. “And then some.”

      “That makes you an interesting man, Mr. Wolf Track.”

      “Logan.”

      “With an interesting proposition,” she allowed, which surprised him. “But what’s in it for you?”

      He lifted one shoulder. “My regular fee or a share of the prize money, whichever way you wanna go.”

      “I doubt that I could afford your fee. And I wouldn’t do it for the money.” She turned her attention to the gelding. “I love horses.”

      “Perfect. You do it for love. I’ll do it for money.” She laughed. He didn’t. “I’m serious.”

      “Yeah, well, I’m—”

      “Sergeant Mary Tutan, who says she wishes she could ride that horse. I’m saying I can make your wish come true if you’re willing to put the prize money where your mouth is.” She stared. He smiled. “And I can do it in thirty days.”

      “What about the other sixty?”

      “That’s for the kid.” She frowned, and he elaborated. “The one we’re gonna get to show the horse.”

      “I can’t. I’d love to, but I just…” Here it came. The backpedaling. “I really just came to see my mother. I can’t stay. I don’t know why Sally would suggest that you partner up with me.” She hit a rock and stopped pedaling. “Something to do with my father?”

      “I don’t know your father.”

      “Dan Tutan? He has a ranch right up the road. He leases Indian land.”

      “You think I know every rancher who leases Indian land?” He glanced away. A little disingenuous, there, Wolf Track. Some of the tribal land Dan Tutan had been leasing was about to become part of the Double D Wild Horse Sanctuary. “I know who he is. That doesn’t mean I know him. All I know about Sally’s suggestion is that she vouches for you personally, and she thinks you’d like to, love to enter ‘Mustang Sally’s Makeover Challenge’ but you need a horse trainer. I’m the best there is.”

      Mary stared at the house, shook her head and muttered, “Sally, Sally, Sally.”

      “So how about you fill out the papers and we get started?”

      “Just like that?”

      “You’re the one who’s only got thirty days.”

      She gave him one of those little head shakes peculiar to women. I would, but there’s this problem. “I’d want to be able to show him myself, and I’m not the best rider.”

      “We’ll train him for Western pleasure. I don’t care who shows him.”

      “You want to win this thing or not?” she mimicked.

      He shrugged. “We don’t win, I get nothing. You give me the money, honey, I’ll put in the time.”

      “What about the love?”

      “That I can’t help you with.”

      “You don’t have to. I really would love to do this. It would be…” She crossed her arms and hugged herself. “I’m feelin’ it already.”

      “Well, there you go.”

      “Where?” She leaned closer. “Where do I go? I mean, where would we do this? And how would we—”

      He laid his hand on her shoulder. “You sign the papers and leave the rest up to me.”

      The Drexlers’ rambling old house had long been a second home for Mary. As a girl she’d sometimes pretended it was her first home. And then she’d thought about Mother and mentally flagellated herself. Even with those days long gone, she entered the mudroom through the squeaky screen door and boxed those old, familiar feelings around. Ah, yes, the door—oh, damn, it isn’t mine. She was greeted by a sweet yellow dog, ignored by an old calico cat.

      “Come on in,” called a beloved voice.

      “It’s me again,” Mary called back as she signaled the dog to stay and the man to come.

      “In the office, you again.”

      Mary led the way through sunny kitchen, comfy living room and dim foyer to present herself in the doorway to Sally’s office-by-day, bedroom-by-night. She took a parade rest stance.

      “Okay, girlfriend, just what are the rules for this contest you’ve got going here?”

      Sally spun her ergonomically correct chair away from the computer desk and grinned. “I see you two found each other.”

      “Surprise, surprise. You said I wasn’t qualified to enter, but then you told…” Mary stepped aside, ceding the doorway to her companion.

      “Logan,” Sally prompted, “that he couldn’t have a horse because he’s on the Tribal Council, and they lease us a lot of land for which we are enormously grateful.

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