Kidnapped Colt Read Online Free PDF

cowboy,” Ryan said dubiously, “but I heard Jed Kenworthy tell Mrs. Cole that ‘this fella Karl’ was supposed to be a cattle expert who raised black Angus.” Ryan pronounced the name of the breed of cattle uncertainly. “Then Jed added that Mr. Mannix knew more about stocks and bonds than livestock.”
    Sam made an understanding noise.
    She guessed she’d misinterpreted Ryan’s expression. Even though he was new to Nevada, he understood that cowboying took skills most people didn’t have.
    Driving over the foothills between War Drum Flats and Arroyo Azul took no time at all in the truck, but the terrain began changing from alkali flats and sagebrush to pinion pine–covered slopes. Riding this wild country on horseback was easier than tackling it with a truck and trailer.
    As they hit a washboard-rutted bit of road, Sam’s cheek ached. She should have taken some aspirin to ward off the soreness.
    â€œHold on,” Ryan warned, but Sam wasn’t prepared for the swerve that slammed her against the passenger side door.
    â€œSorry. I was trying to miss that rut,” he explained.
    The road had narrowed to a rough trail.
    When she and Jen had ridden here, the horses had stepped around the rain-sculpted washouts and small rock slides.
    â€œWe’re getting close,” she told Ryan.
    â€œAnd a good thing. This is becoming somewhat tricky.”
    Ryan slowed the Jeep to a crawl. Still, hardened furrows of mud shook the vehicle, making her cheek twinge each time, but it was the worried shifting of hooves in the trailer behind them thatmade her want to stop.
    â€œIt’s only another mile or so to the box canyon,” Sam said, looking up the hillside. “Shall we lead them in?”
    â€œGreat idea,” Ryan said.
    Avoiding a boulder with a white scuff across its face, Ryan pulled the truck to the right side of the road, put on the emergency brake so the Jeep wouldn’t roll backward down the steep hill, and turned the key to “off.”
    Unnerved by the bumpy ride, Hotspot backed out of the trailer at full speed, knocking Ryan aside before he reached her lead.
    But Sam was quick enough to snag the leather strap.
    â€œGot her,” Sam said.
    Hotspot danced in place, lifting her knees and flaring her nostrils. After a few breaths, she seemed reassured.
    Ears flicking, the Appaloosa inspected her surroundings, oblivious to Shy Boots’s anxious nickers.
    The colt stayed in the trailer until Ryan walked inside, looped a soft rope around his neck, and led him out.
    â€œHe leads?” Sam said.
    Ryan had simply looped the rope around the colt’s neck. He’d used no halter, no knots even, and Boots had followed him like a pet poodle.
    Recalling the bucking fuss Tempest had put up, Sam could hardly believe it.
    â€œYes, he leads quite nicely,” Ryan boasted. When he let the rope slip free, Shy Boots bolted forward to nudge Hotspot with his chocolate-brown nose.
    Quite nicely, Sam’s mind mimicked, but she couldn’t picture herself asking Ryan for training tips.
    â€œShe’s not afraid.” Ryan smoothed his hand over the mare’s sleek neck. “In England, I rode a big dappled beast of a horse named Voyager. He took any jump I put him at. Apparently, though, he’d never been out of sight of stables and riding rings.
    â€œOn a lark, I decided to try him over a cross-country course. He wouldn’t even begin. He simply froze up. All four legs went stiff at the sight of forest and rolling hills.”
    â€œYou’d think he’d just want to run,” Sam said.
    When she rode Ace, one glimpse of the wide range made him fight the bit, eager to gallop. But as she waited for Ryan’s response, he seemed more uneasy than Hotspot.
    That probably made sense, considering the mare had run the open range once before.
    The first time she’d seen Hotspot, Sam had been riding with Jake near War Drum Flats.