Reunited with the Cowboy by Carolyne Aarsen Page B

the horse pasture. Heather climbed over the fence, whistling at the herd of horses standing on a rise a few hundred feet away.
    They lifted their heads, then came trotting toward her, Rowdy in front.
    Their hooves pounded on the ground as they picked up speed, dirt kicking up behind them. Just before they reached Heather, they slowed, spinning around as Tia, the lead mare, bared her teeth in warning, keeping the other horses in their place.
    â€œDon’t be so bossy,” Heather declared, holding her hand up. Tia shook her head, as if trying to assert her supremacy, but Heather just kept her palm up in warning and walked past her to where Rowdy stood.
    â€œCan’t believe you big, tough guys let that little mare push you around,” she said as she reached her mount. He swung his head away at first, but then, as she talked to him, came closer. Heather stroked his neck, rubbed his forelock, then slipped the halter rope around his neck. “Good boy,” she whispered, rubbing him again. “Thanks for not making me chase you down.”
    She knew it was simple pride, but she wanted to show John that she was capable. That in spite of the fancy clothes he’d seen her in, in spite of her modeling career, she was still a cowgirl at heart. Still the girl he had once cared for.
    â€œNot that I want him back,” she said to Rowdy as she tied him to the hitching post, voicing her thoughts to the horse. “But I wouldn’t mind some simple respect.”
    Something she’d always sought, she realized as she slid the bit into Rowdy’s mouth and buckled the headstall. That was why she had gone to college. So she could show John she was worthy of him. She shook off the memories, relegating them to the past. She shouldn’t want or need John’s respect anymore. She was her own person now.
    She pulled the saddle off the rail, set it aside, then laid the blanket high on Rowdy’s withers and slid it back a bit, just as Monty had taught her.
    A few minutes later, she had the cinch tied up snug, the running martingale secured. She took a moment to tug on the stirrups and then walk around Rowdy. It had been years since she’d gotten up on him, and wanted to make sure they understood each other before she climbed on. But as she put her foot in the stirrup, rising up to let him feel her weight, Rowdy stood perfectly still, the only movement from him a twitch of his tail and a flick of one ear.
    â€œThanks, buddy,” she said, patting him on his shoulder as she settled in the saddle, shifting her weight to make sure the stirrups were still the right length. But all was well. “Let’s go work some cows,” she told him.
    As she set out, she felt the rise of anticipation from being atop a horse. In spite of the drizzle, a sense of well-being rushed over her. She had a feeling of rightness. Of being exactly where she should be.
    John was already on the walkway as she came near, standing slightly above her.
    â€œWe’re ready,” she said.
    â€œThat didn’t take long.”
    â€œHe was right there. I think he was happy to see me, weren’t you, boy?” she said, rubbing her hand over Rowdy’s mane. “We’re going to have to go for a ride when this weather eases up.” Heather squinted up at the low-hanging clouds, unable to keep from smiling as she thought about going out into the hills.
    â€œNot the best day to work cows,” he said, squinting up at the leaden clouds in turn.
    â€œBut Monday will be worse. So let’s just get it done.”
    â€œOkay. Here’s how we’ll do it. I want you to let five cows into the chutes at a time, then close the gate behind them.” He shot her a questioning look and she nodded, tucking Rowdy’s reins under her arm and tugging on her gloves.
    â€œOnly five,” he emphasized. “More than that and there’s not enough room in the chute for them.”
    â€œI think I can