Saddle Up by Victoria Vane

“How do you feel about mustangs?” Miranda asked. “I know it sounds crazy, but the BLM is desperate to get those horses off their hands.”


Jo-Jo shook her head sadly. “I know your heart’s in the right place, but I don’t know the first thing about wild horses, and I couldn’t do it alone even if I wanted to.”

“What if you weren’t alone? What if I wanted to help you?”

“Sweetheart, it would be a dream come true to have you here with me, but I don’t understand why you’d want to mess with wild mustangs. Seems like nothing but a whole lot of trouble to me.”

“Didn’t you just say that cows are harder to manage than horses?” Miranda countered. “Maybe we could even train some of them. There are several prisons that do that and offer them up for adoption.”

Jo-Jo looked doubly skeptical. “Randa, honey, you don’t know the first thing about breaking a domestic horse, let alone a wild one.”

“I know that, Jo-Jo. We’d have to bring someone on to do the training. I’d never be foolish enough to try something like that on my own, but I have connections now. The West family has been dealing with these horses for thirty years…and Keith has worked with them too.”

“Keith?” Jo-Jo asked.

“He was a wrangler I met while working on the film. He saved me from a rattlesnake. And a mountain lion. I also nearly froze to death that night.” She grinned. “But I’ve never had a better time in my whole life.”

Jo-Jo laughed. “Sounds a little like the first date I had with your grandpa.”

“Tell me about it,” Miranda said.

“Bud had been coming around for a good while, helping out on the ranch. He kept eyeballing me when he thought I wasn’t looking, but never could seem to find his tongue. The first time he ever spoke to me directly was the day he showed up with two saddled horses. ‘Wanna ride?’ he says.

“‘Sure. I’ll ride,’ I answer. I go inside and change into my jeans and boots, and there he is, just waitin’. Doesn’t say another word for two hours as we ride up into the mountains. Then he suddenly pulls up. ‘You like steak?’

“‘Yes. Who doesn’t?’ I reply. Then I noticed the little clearing with a fire pit all set up to go—neatly stacked wood, a cooler full of food, a cast-iron fry pan, coffeepot, and a box of Bisquick. I almost fell off the horse when I realized the man who’d barely spoken more than five words to me had ridden all the way up that mountain hours before just to set up for our ‘date.’ I suspected right then that he was the man I’d marry.”

“When did you know for certain?” Miranda asked. Was it really possible to fall in love with someone so quickly?

“About two hours later, when he asked me, but it was the kiss that sealed the deal. Honey, he wasn’t a talker, but that sure wasn’t because he didn’t know how to use his tongue.”

“Jo-Jo!” Miranda cried, cheeks flaming.

“Why do you look so scandalized? I was young once too. And I never stopped liking those kisses either. The secret to a happy marriage starts with great kisses. I never had any complaints in that department…or in any other.”

“Just like that? You just knew he was the one for you?”

Miranda could hardly imagine making that kind of life-changing decision after knowing someone such a short time. She and Keith had shared something special too, but how could she know if it was enough to build on? She wondered where he was at the moment, and what he was doing. It seemed the harder she tried not think about him, the more her mind seemed to go there.

“That I did,” Jo-Jo continued. “You gotta understand, with men, actions speak much louder than words, especially when it comes to matters of the heart. We got married as soon as I turned eighteen. We were together fifty years, and I never regretted a day.” Her eyes twinkled and then misted. “I still miss the ol’ codger.” She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye and sniffed. “Enough of the waterworks. Now tell me about this Keith of yours. Did you spend the night with him?”

Miranda paused, not knowing how much she should volunteer. Although her grandmother wasn’t a prude by any means, she still wasn’t comfortable sharing about her love life. Then again, she’d never been able to keep anything from her grandmother. Why try now?

“Yes.” Miranda sighed. “We weren’t supposed to be alone…but the others got held up. He really took care of me out in the desert. I really like him, Jo-Jo.”

“Like?” her grandmother repeated, brows raised. Did Jo-Jo have some kind of sixth sense?

“Okay. It’s more than just like,” Miranda confessed, cheeks coloring. “But we’re probably never going to see each other again.”

“Why not? Where’s he from?”

“Wyoming. His family has a ranch on the Wind River Reservation.”

Jo-Jo looked surprised. “He’s an Indian?”

“Yes,” Miranda said. “Well, half anyway. Shoshone. I had no clue about the scope of the mustang problem until I starting looking at it through his eyes.”