Would he ever give her a chance? It seemed he took pleasure in not just finding but seeking out her every fault. Although he’d made it abundantly clear that he resented her presence, the situation had changed. She wasn’t about to give him a choice this time. She needed to record the rescues, or even the deaths, of these horses. Leaving now would defeat her purpose in coming.
Miranda swallowed hard at the prospect of being stuck alone with him. But it was too important to get cold feet. “I know how to ride, and I’ve moved cows plenty of times before. My grandparents have a cattle ranch. I used to spend summers there as a kid. Maybe it’s been a few years, but I haven’t forgotten how.”
“Rounding up mustangs is nothing like driving cattle. Cows move slowly. Horses run flat out. You have to lead them. To do that, you have to be able to ride hard and think fast.”
“But you’ve already said these horses are weak and old, ones that have to move slower,” she argued. “I came out here to film this horse gather, and whether you all like it or not, I’m going to follow this through.”
Dave’s gaze darted from Keith to Miranda. “I’ll meet up with Donny back at camp and then the two of us will ride back out here with fresh horses. We could catch up with you in a few hours.”
“That sounds like a plan,” Trey said. He looked to Keith and Miranda with a twitch of his mouth. “If the two of you aren’t back in two days, we’ll send out a posse to look for your bodies. Time’s a wastin’. Let’s see if we can get that foal on board.”
Miranda uncapped her camera and filmed the three men hobbling the colt’s front legs together. As he’d said, the horse was too weak to struggle. Keith then produced a canvas tarp from his saddle pack, using it as a sling to carry the young horse to the chopper. A few minutes later, the helicopter lifted off with Donny holding the colt securely in his lap.
She prayed the foal would survive the ordeal. “Do you think he’ll make it?” she asked, capping her lens after the helicopter disappeared from view.
Keith shook his head. “Maybe not, but we had to try.”
“I’m glad you did,” she said softly.
Their eyes met for a millisecond. His softened infinitesimally, only to harden again. “You can take Donny’s horse.” He led Miranda to a strawberry roan he introduced as Sadie. “She’s smart and steady and even came from these parts. She’ll take good care of you if you just stay out of her way.”
“Thanks,” Miranda replied, taking Sadie’s bridle.
He grunted his reply then mounted his horse and turned his attention back to the mustangs. “Dave will lead while we push from behind,” he said. “Once they’re following him, we’ll slowly drop back.”
“Will they keep following him if we leave?” she asked.
“It’s a horse’s nature to follow, and this pair is in dire need of a leader,” Keith explained. “Dave is claiming that position. They’ll trust him as long as they don’t perceive him as a threat.”
“You really do understand them, don’t you?”
“You thought I was all bullshit?” Mumbling a curse, he turned his horse and rode off ahead of her. Just as she’d suspected, he was going to ignore her as much as possible. They might not like each other, but she still couldn’t help admiring Keith’s tenacity in fighting for the foal.
After a quarter mile or so, Keith and Miranda parted ways with Dave, and then turned back toward the mountains in the direction where Trey had reported several strays. They rode for an hour in stone-cold silence, before picking up a trail of hoofprints and horse dung that led to an old mining camp.
Keith pulled up. “The sun’ll be setting soon. We’ll make camp here. It’ll be warmer than it is up on the mountain. There’s also an old well where we can water the horses, and trees to picket them.” Keith turned his back, making no effort to help her, not that she’d expected any. He obviously didn’t intend to make this any easier on her. She’d volunteered to help him, damn it! Why was he still giving her the cold shoulder?
Miranda groaned as she attempted to dismount. Her ass was beyond numb, and her knees so cramped she didn’t know if she’d be able to stand once she dismounted—if she could get off. Taking a deep breath, she threw her leg over the back of the saddle and slid down the horse. As she’d feared, her knees nearly gave way the moment her feet hit the ground. She had to grab onto the saddle horn for support.
“You’ll feel far worse tomorrow,” he tossed carelessly over his shoulder.
She still couldn’t comprehend his continued hostility. She questioned her decision to stay behind with him. Dave’s promise that he and Donny would rejoin them was little comfort.
“Why are you being so mean to me?” she asked, fighting the burning behind her eyes.
“It was your decision to do this,” he replied coldly. “I told you how it would be. I get paid to round up horses. Kowtowing to you isn’t in my contract, Miz Sutton.”
“That’s not what I expected. I feel like you’re trying to make it more unpleasant than it has to be.”
“Is that what you think?”
“Yes,” she replied.