Miranda And The Ranch Hand (Domestic Discipline Romance) by Coleen Singer

to slip out on nights she couldn’t sleep and take Windfire for a run. She rode bareback on these secret jaunts, feeling the full power of the horse under her.
    The last time, she had also felt the full power of Marcus’s wrath. She could still see him standing in the stables when she returned, so exhilarated from the ride. He was furious that she’d been so reckless with her life. And she could still remember her first glance at their father’s razor strop in his hand. Miranda knew that’s what their father had used to discipline Marcus and David, but it never had been used on her. Marcus hadn’t said a word. He just grabbed her and hauled her over the tack bench, bared her bottom and let her have it. She had never felt anything like the burning pain of that leather strop as stroke after stroke left searing red welts across her backside and legs.
    She realized she was absently rubbing her backside at the memory. She shook her head as if to chase it away, and then reminded herself that her brothers were far north on the round-up, and she was five years older and perfectly capable of taking care of herself. She left the ranch house and silently made her way to the stable. She greeted Windfire with only a bit and bridle, and the horse knew what she was about. She mounted the animal and took off, feeling release from her troubled thoughts for the first time that day.
    If she hadn’t been so caught up in her own musings, she might have noticed that Dylan’s horse was gone from the barn. He was out patrolling the summer pastures with two other Rangers that he’d called in for back up. He was convinced there would be another attack while the ranch was shorthanded during the round up. The timing matched the other attacks—overnight, usually with a full moon and the ranch owners away. Hard as he tried to concentrate on the task at hand, he too was distracted by what had happened earlier in the day.
    He didn’t know what came over him. He clearly desired Miranda, but there was more to it. Last night it had been all he could do to keep from taking over the foaling as he watched the pain and exhaustion etched in her face. He wanted to protect her, and yet he loved her spirit and that wild streak that set his teeth on edge. He wanted to wring her neck as often as he wanted to caress it.
    But Howie was right, he couldn’t start something he wasn’t going to finish. He wouldn’t be staying once these renegades were caught. And he was living a lie here at the ranch. Her brothers were the sort of men who probably wouldn’t blink twice if Miranda chose to marry a ranch hand—as long as he was honest and treated her right. But he wasn’t a ranch hand—he was a Texas Ranger. A few Rangers were married, but not many. It was tough on a wife and family, not knowing where their man was half the time, or if he was coming home at all. Whoa! What was he thinking? Marriage! Was he daft?
    His startling thoughts were interrupted by the sound of hoof beats. Someone was riding this way, fast. He signaled his partners that he would check it out. If it were someone from the ranch, he didn’t want to blow his cover. He dismounted and backed into a clump of trees to watch. When the horse and rider came into view, he couldn’t believe his eyes. Miranda and Windfire were riding like a hungry mountain cat was chasing them. Together they sailed right over the fence line! My God, she was riding bare back and jumping fences like they were prairie mounds. His stomach clenched with fear. If she were thrown at that speed, she’d be killed for sure. And what the hell was she doing riding out alone after midnight? Now he was more than afraid for her, he was furious. He quickly mounted and went after her.
    Miranda was laughing out loud at the freedom she felt, riding like the wind—one with her horse and the night. She was so caught up in the experience she never heard Dylan thundering up behind her until suddenly she felt a steel band around her