From the Boots Up Read Online Free PDF Page A

single? Better yet, are
you into women? I know this is a little forward, but I—she stopped. What?
Really like your eyes? Think there’s something about you? Lame. Beyond lame.
She grimaced and turned the volume up and sang along with Martina McBride, still
thinking about the all-too brief encounter with a stranger in a parking lot.

Three
    M eg wheeled Rusty around and started back
toward the lodge. Mark said he’d seen a few unbranded calves with Diamond Rock
cattle in this vicinity, so she’d tracked a portion of the herd along the
eastern border of the Medicine Bow National Forest, but all those calves had
brands. If she had time tomorrow, she’d take Mark and see if they couldn’t find
the strays and brand them. They’d also need vaccinations. Damn. It’d be half a
day to cut them from the herd and bring them down. Easier to just chase after
them, maybe.
    She whistled sharply, and looked back over her
shoulder. Dammit and Bugoff tore out of a stand of pine, racing each other to
get to Rusty’s side. Dammit was a mixture of border collie and Australian
cattle dog. Bugoff was a blue heeler. They were the best-trained of the four
dogs at Diamond Rock and Meg took them with her whenever she thought she might
have to cut a cow from the herd to check it for something. They didn’t have to
do much work today since she was able to get close enough to check the cattle
with a visual, but the dogs did keep her amused with their antics.
    She clicked her tongue softly and gave Rusty’s neck a
pat. They’d be home in a half-hour. She glanced toward the sun. Late afternoon.
Plenty of time to get Rusty squared away, clean herself up, and be at dinner to
meet the reporter and make nice for a good impression. She hoped the reporter
wasn’t completely annoying. The week was going to be long enough.
    The next round of guests had started to arrive
yesterday. They included a young newlywed couple from Chicago that had brought
the groom’s parents for some bonding. Another, an older woman from St. Paul,
drove in from Denver. She was an artist, she said, and was looking to “clear
her head.” She seemed nice.
    The dogs raced back and forth across the cow path in
front of Rusty, who diligently ignored them with calm, equine patience, his
hooves following the familiar track home over the rolling prairie. She inhaled
deeply, the smell of pine, sage, and tall grass filling her nostrils. No matter
what was going in her life, she always found peace here.
    Her thoughts drifted yet again to Gina, as they had
on Wednesday when she met her, and all day yesterday. And more today. Maybe she
worked for the Forest Service or the BLM, which meant she might be in the area
for the summer. She could ask some people, see if anyone knew her. Maybe check
in at the Forest Service district office in town. After all, Gina had said that
maybe she’d see her around. Why would she say that if she was just passing
through?
    She adjusted her weight in the saddle, trying to
think about something else. But she kept seeing Gina’s eyes, kept feeling the
warmth she sensed there, and the sparks her handshake had generated. Wasn’t
that kind of weird, to keep thinking about someone she’d only met once, and
briefly?
    Whatever. Like having a crush was a bad thing. If she
saw Gina again, it would add another thrill and if she never did, then the
crush would fade and she’d go back to school in August, no big deal. Just a
nice fantasy for the summer.
    But how could you have a crush on someone you’d
barely interacted with? An attraction was one thing. She’d had those to women she’d
met in the past. But this was a bit stronger than just an attraction, which was
why she figured it was a crush. Or were attractions stronger than crushes?
Whichever. Maybe she was just feeling a little bit lonely. After all, she
hadn’t dated anyone since Amanda. That was about eight months ago, and here was
a good-looking stranger with great eyes and a nice smile who she’d