Page 22 of Head Over Spurs

The older man nodded, plucking a set of keys from the peg board behind him. “Don’t be such a stranger now that you’re back, ya hear?”

“Yessir.” He clapped Red on the shoulder and accepted the keys.

He had barely crossed back through the gate before Jules was at his side. She was practically vibrating from trying to contain herself, her eyes wide as a full moon. “Something on your mind?” he teased.

“I’m guessing you’ve been here before?”

Riley laughed as he held the door open for her. “What gave it away?”

They stepped outside, following the dirt path around the corner of the log cabin welcome center to the waiting row of side-by-sides. Locating the one with the number three sticker to match the three on the keys, he settled into the driver’s seat as Jules asked, “Just a frequent visitor, or what?”

He started the engine and headed towards one of his favorite spots. The land was a bit flatter here, but there was a ridge line that would give her some beautiful views—hopefully sprinkled with horses.

“Well, my first time here was when I did their summer internship program freshman year of high school. I had already spent years hovering around stables in town. But the idea ofcoming out to a reservation and seeing truly wild horses, that really grabbed my interest.”

“What was the internship like?” she breathed, her eyes still alight with fascination.

He should be watching the trail, but Jules was so expressive, he wanted to catch each reaction.

“Amazing. It was amazing. There is just something about mustangs—they have a different spirit about them, unrestrained and strong. I enjoyed the challenge of finding that mutual respect. Building trust.”

“Mm,” she hummed in appreciation. “Is that why you stayed on after that internship?”

“Partially. The horses, the land, Red and his team. I wanted more of this wide open. So, I started coming up here every summer, working full time until the rodeo thing took off.”

“The rodeo thing,” she laughed, withdrawing her camera from the bag and readying herself as horses appeared, just small specs on the horizon. “That little hobby you had.”

He shrugged, feeling a crooked smile tip his mouth upward. Before he knew it, she lifted her camera and caught his amused expression.

Peeking around the device, she added, “I can see why they made you the caretaker at the ranch. I knew you were good with horses, but this,” she waved her hand outward. “You have an appreciation for these animals that most probably don’t.”

Turning her attention back to the wilderness with a gentle smile, she acted as if her words weren’t the type of compliment that cracked right through the armor he was desperately trying to maintain.

“Get your camera ready,” he told her as they careened around a ridge.

“How do you know there will be—never mind,” she muttered, doing as he said.

And once the cliff face disappeared, they were greeted by a herd of wild horses basking in the sun along the stream. Jules wasted no time sneaking out of the side-by-side towards them. Her laser focus was a sight to behold as she lost herself in capturing the magnificent animals.

Jules dropped onto a knee, her hand fidgeting with the lens. Watching intently, he shook his head to himself, staying back to watch her do her thing. How on earth could he be throwing away a day by being here with her? This was turning into the best of days.

After clicking relentlessly, she turned back to him. “Do you know all the good spots here, then?”

“A few.”

They continued on, hitting all the locations he felt certain would have a good view, and a few horses. Each time he stopped somewhere new, she was eager to ask about it, wanting to hear his stories about working at the reserve. And it didn’t take long for him to realize how much he missed talking about this, even the hard stuff. How much he missed being here.

At the last stop, a bay mare limped near the side-by-side. She looked worn down, as if having suffered before her arrival. “What would have happened to her?” Jules asked, keeping her camera lowered as she frowned at the sight.

“Could have been a number of things. But lately, there’s a good chance she came here after escaping a round-up.”

“A round-up?”

Riley nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. “The government has been rounding up wild horses—herd management they call it. It’s not the first time this has happened, but the number of horses they’re capturing… it’s unprecedented in these parts.”

His shoulder sagged as he pictured the fear this mare mighthave experienced. The topic was a highly debated one. But as far as he was concerned, the horses should remain wild and free.

“What happens after they catch them?” Her voice had dropped to a hushed murmur.

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