“No, I won't. I'll be back on that damn horse.” And then she groaned again, but more at the memory of the horse than at the pain.

“Which one did they give you?”

“A miserable old beast called Rusty.” Sam looked at Caroline with open disgust and Caroline laughed harder.

“Oh, God, they didn't. Did they really?” Samantha nodded. “Who on earth did that? I told them you could ride as well as any of the men.”

“Well, they didn't believe you. At least Tate Jordan didn't. He almost gave me Lady, and then decided Rusty was more my speed.”

“Tomorrow tell him you want Navajo. He's a beautiful Appaloosa, no one rides him except Bill and myself.”

“Will that make the other men resent me?”

“Did they today?”

“I'm not sure. They didn't say much.”

“They don't say much to each other either. And if you rode with them since this morning, how could they possibly resent you? My God, and all those hours on the first day!” She looked truly horrified at what Samantha had done.

“Wouldn't you have done the same thing?”

She thought about it for a minute, and then, with a sheepish grin, nodded yes.

“By the way, I saw Black Beauty.”

“What do you think of him?” Caroline's eyes glowed.

“I think I'd like to steal him, or at least ride him. But”-her eyes suddenly flashed again-“Mr. Jordan doesn't think I ought to. According to him, Black Beauty isn't a horse for a woman.”

“What about me?” Caroline looked vastly amused.

“He thinks you're the ‘best woman rider’ he's ever seen. I challenged him about that, why not the ‘best rider’ without qualifying it?” But Caroline only laughed at her. “What's so funny, Aunt Caro? You are the best damn rider I've ever seen.”

“For a woman,” she countered.

“You think that's funny?”

“I'm used to it. Bill King thinks the same thing.”

“Liberated in these parts, aren't they?” Samantha groaned as she got off the couch and pointed herself in the direction of her room. “In any case if I can squeeze a better horse out of Tate Jordan tomorrow, I'll feel as though I've won a major battle for womankind. What was the name of that Appaloosa?”

“Navajo. Just tell him I said so.”

Samantha rolled her eyes as she disappeared down the hall. “Good luck,” Caroline called after her. But as she washed her face and brushed her hair in the pretty bedroom, she realized that it was the first time in three months that she hadn't moved heaven and earth to watch John and Liz's evening broadcast, and she hadn't even missed it. She was in another world now. A world of horses named Rusty, and Appaloosas, and assistant foremen who thought they ruled the world; but it was all very simple and very wholesome, and the most pressing problem she had was what horse she was going to ride the next day.

She thought once more to herself as she lay in bed shortly after dinner that it was the most blissfully simple existence she had known since she was a child. And then, as the thoughts faded from her mind, just before she drifted into sleep, she heard the familiar door close again and she was sure this time that she heard muffled footsteps and soft laughter in the hall.

5

The next morning Samantha climbed out of bed with a horrific groan, she staggered to the shower and stood there for a full fifteen minutes with the hot water raining down on her sore limbs. The insides of her knees were almost scarlet from her eleven-hour day in the saddle, and she padded her long Johns with wads of cotton as she gingerly stepped back into her jeans. The only encouraging sign for the day ahead was that it was no longer raining, and she glanced around her in the early morning darkness, noticing that there were still stars in the sky, as she made her way to the main dining hall for breakfast. This morning she felt less timid as she walked in, hung her jacket on a hook, and went straight to the coffee machine, where she filled a tall steaming mug. She saw her old friend Josh at a far table and went over to him with a smile as he beckoned to her to sit down.

“How you feelin' today, Samantha?”

She grinned ruefully at him and lowered her voice conspiratorially as she took over the empty chair. “It's a good thing we're riding today, Josh, that's all I can tell you.”

“How's that?”

“Cause I sure as hell couldn't walk. I just about crawled here from the big house.” Josh and the other two men chuckled and one of them praised her for her hard ride the day before.

“You sure are a damn fine rider, Samantha.” Not that she had had the opportunity to show them her stuff in the driving rain.

“I used to be. It's been a long time.”

“Don't make no difference,” Josh told her firmly. “You got a good seat, good hands, you got 'em for the rest of your life. You gonna ride Rusty again today, Sam?” He raised one eyebrow and she shrugged as she sipped her coffee.

“We'll see. I don't think so.” Josh only smiled. He knew that Sam wouldn't put up with an old nag like that for long. Sure as hell not after she saw Black Beauty. It would be a miracle if she wasn't riding him before long. “What did you think of the big boy?” He grinned with pleasure.

“Black Beauty?” Her eyes filled with a special light as she said his name. There was something about horsepeople and a Thoroughbred stallion. It was a kind of passion other people would never understand. Josh nodded and grinned. “He's the best piece of horseflesh I've ever seen.”

“Miss Caro going to let you ride him?” He couldn't resist asking.

“If I can talk her into it-and don't think I won't try!” Sam smiled back over her shoulder as she headed for the line waiting for breakfast. She returned five minutes later with a plate of sausages and fried eggs. Two of the men had moved to another table, and Josh was already squaring the hat on his head. “Going out early, Josh?”

“I told Tate I'd give him a hand in the barn before we ride out this morning.” He smiled at her, turned to call out to one of his friends, and then disappeared.

Twenty minutes later when Samantha went out to the barn to saddle up, she looked around hesitantly for Tate, not entirely sure how to broach the change of mounts with him. But on a day like this there was no way she was going to ride a nag like the one he'd assigned her. She was sure that if Navajo was Caroline's suggestion, he would be much more her style.

A couple of the men nodded to her as they walked past her. They seemed less annoyed by her presence than they had been the previous morning. She suspected that even though they had been expecting her they hadn't imagined her quite as she was. But she also knew that if nothing else would win them over, riding as hard and as long as they did in the driving rain would eventually win their hearts. And if she was going to spend the next three months on Caroline's ranch, acting like any other ranch hand, then it was important to her that the men come to accept her as one of them. Still she knew that one or two of the younger ones had been stunned by her looks and her youth, and she had caught one of them staring at her in fascination the evening before when she had pulled the rubber band out of her hair at the end of the long day and shook out her wet mane of silvery blond hair. She had smiled at him briefly and he had blushed furiously and turned away.