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shoved my face in her breasts. Which she certainly wouldn’t have done if she didn’t want to be near me. Now let go of her!”
    Farrell jerked at my arm. “She said she wanted off—”
    “ I will put her down if you just let go of her,” Walker said stiffly.
    Oh, lovely, they were fighting over me. Why couldn’t they do it when I wasn’t strung between two horses? I stared down at the ground that seemed a long, long way down, and swallowed hard. “Hey! Guys, I feel like a really big human wishbone here, and I don’t think either horse likes having me half-on, half-off him—”
    “Let go of her before you hurt her,” Farrell demanded, the white horse doing a nasty little up-and-down move that made my teeth rattle. Farrell’s grip slipped a bit as the horse sidled, leaving me hanging by my wrist between the two men.
    “I had her first,” Walker said, tightening his hold on my waist.
    “You didn’t want her,” Farrell said. “You tried to throw her off that slug you call a horse.”
    “Throw me off?” I screamed to the ground.
    “Whether or not I want her is not the issue. I had her first, so she’s mine to put down. I realize that you don’t have a shred of chivalry in your sun-bleached soul, but if you did, you’d know that the finders-keepers rule applies here, and let go of her.”
    “Okay, I’m starting to seriously panic now,” I felt it wise to inform them, trying to quell the note of increasing hysteria in my voice. Whitey turned his head to give me the evil eye, then tried to bite my arm. “He’s trying to eat me! Let me down, let me down, let me down!”
    “Screaming like that isn’t going to help,” Walker lectured me. “Horses like calm, confident people. Screaming and yelling and whinging just upsets them.”
    I lifted my head and glared back over my shoulder at him. “Do you think maybe we could save the horse etiquette until a time when I’m not doing an imitation of a badminton net?”
    “I was just trying to point out—”
    “I know what you were trying to point out, but dammit, look at me!”
    Both men eyed me stretched out between them.
    “She doesn’t look very comfortable. It’s ridiculous for you to keep her when she wants away from you. Release her, Walker,” Farrell ordered.
    “Oh, for God’s sake,” I muttered.
    “She’s safer with me than with your ill-mannered stallion. Here, you, whatever your name is, let me have your arm.” The white horse snapped at my head again as I clung with one hand to Farrell’s leg, the other still behind held in his iron grip. “Christ, Farrell! Can’t you control that loose cannon you’re riding? Will you stop screeching, woman? You’re not going to fall. My horse is too well mannered to do anything to harm you.”
    As the words left his mouth, a white-and-orange streak shot from the shadows of a tent to a stack of boxes about four feet high. The premonition of what the cat was going to do left my blood turned to ice, my jaw dropped open, and my heart in my momentarily speechless mouth. “Moth, no—” I screamed just as all twenty-four pounds of massive cat hit Marley’s rump, feline claws extended to give him a better grip on the glossy, well-groomed horse.
    Marley, not unreasonably, I’m willing to admit, took exception to such treatment. He rose up on his back legs, let out a disgusted snort, and slammed back down to earth with a teeth-jarring buck.
    “Oh, very well, have it your way,” Farrell said at the exact same moment, and released my arm as the white horse tossed up his head and jerked Farrell’s leg from my tenuous grip. I did a beautiful half gainer off Marley as Walker released me in order to grab at the reins.
    “Too well mannered to do anything to harm me, huh?” I asked as I lay on the ground and did a silent inventory of my arms and legs. My wrist stung, and my hip hurt from where it had been crushed against Walker’s saddle before being pounded into the ground, but other than a few bruises,