The dark chocolate mare should’ve been named Satan’s Wench instead of Sugar.

 

Sara Beth couldn’t stop staring at the horse as it jumped and kicked for no apparent reason inside the training ring on Michael’s ranch. She leaned against the top rung of the fence surrounding the well-used stomping ground.

 

All of Michael’s new horses came through the ranch until they’d been broken or retrained. He only took the difficult ones – the ones no one else was willing to work with. The one good thing about Rourke Ranch was how much her sister’s boyfriend included Sara Beth in training the horses and anything else that had to do with the majestic animals.

 

“Sara Beth, I know you. Don’t even think about it.” Rosie, her older and extremely bossy sister, yelled from the porch.  Blonde hair pulled into a half-bun, Rosie lifted her hand to shade her face from the early afternoon sun.

 

Shadows spilled across the sprawling rancher-style home nestled between large Aspen trees and a hulking Bull Pine.

 

If she weren’t so irritated, Sara Beth would admire the beautiful plains beyond the house and the grays and blues of advancing clouds in the sky.

 

Rolling her eyes, she waved Rosie off and turned her attention back to the near-wild animal. Since moving out to Rourke Ranch, Rosie had been nothing but high-and-mighty. She’d even taken to telling Sara Beth what she could and couldn’t wear because of how it might reflect on the Rourke family. Bossy old biddy.

 

And ever since they’d moved in – eighteen months after being evicted from their apartment – Sara Beth couldn’t wait to get out on her own.

 

At graduation, Sara Beth had grabbed her diploma and high-tailed it out of the high school gymnasium. She didn’t have girlfriends and the last thing she wanted to do was wait for Rosie to come hug her and congratulate her in front of so many people who would only talk. Let the Scott sisters provide more gossip fodder for the masses.

 

Living in the same house as a falling-in-love couple had a way of dividing and conquering any closeness sisters may have. All the girls did anymore was argue.

 

Sunlight warmed Sara Beth’s shoulders, but kept off her face and head with a dark Stetson Rosie had bought her for Christmas. Sara Beth tapped her toe. Oh, man, she’d give anything to ride the beautiful animal still fighting in front of her.

 

“You know, your sister’s right, Sara Beth.” Michael walked slowly up from the barn, wrapping a rope from his elbow to his open palm and back down. Black Stetson atop his equally ink-colored hair, Michael made ranching look easy. From sun up to sun down, he worked the land whether that meant managing the horses, working in the fields, or maintaining everything on his ranch.

 

He climbed up to join her on the railing. “I know it’s not what you want to hear. I couldn’t agree more that horse would be fun to ride.” He patted the metal railing, the ding of his glove clasp muffled under the leather. “But, it’s for your safety… psh, it’s for mine as well. But most importantly, for the horse. No one on Rourke land is allowed on Sugar. She’s not ready yet. She doesn’t let anyone on her without trying to buck and that’s not good for her.”

 

“Yeah.” Sara Beth bit back her requests to at least be able to try. She listened while Michael continued talking. She wanted to learn from him, even if it meant she didn’t get her way… yet. Plus, she didn’t really think Sugar would try to buck her. There was something about the horse that called to Sara Beth – like they were meant to ride together.  

 

“Did you hear the rodeo Circuit is coming this way? Are you still going to try for Miss Wrangler Montana?” Michael tied off a knot to hold the wound rope together and looped the mass around a post to his left, all while balancing on the worn rung he stood on.

 

Sara Beth hunched her shoulders, unable to fight the excitement the topic hummed through her. “Yeah, I’ve been practicing all the riding maneuvers and even made Rosie pretend to interview me for the horsemanship portion.” She quirked her lips to the side, seriousness dulling her fervor. “I know I won’t fit in with the pageant chicks, but at least I’d get to be around horses and see places, you know?” She slumped, resting her chin on her arms. “Rosie doesn’t want me to do it.” Sara Beth would never admit that she pouted like an eight-year-old girl, even though she did.

 

Michael chuckled. “Rosie doesn’t want to keep you back from anything fun, girl. She just thinks there’s more to your riding than placing in a pageant.” He held up a hand. “I know it’s not an old-school pageant. But your sister doesn’t see it that way.” He patted her shoulder and stepped down from the rung. “I promised Rosie I’d help with the garden fencing in back. Why don’t you saddle Miss Sadie and take her for a ride. She misses you. Wait on Sugar. I promise we’ll get there soon.” He winked and sauntered away.

 

Miss Sadie defined boring. And safe. Ugh. Sara Beth leaned her head back and then lowered her gaze. She was sick of waiting for something exciting to happen in her life. Not dangerous exciting, but fun and thrilling exciting. Riding horses seemed to be the only outlet Sara Beth had to keep in touch with her dreams and who she really was.

 

She glanced up at the suddenly silent ring. 

 

Sugar had stopped jumping and kicking, and instead watched Sara Beth with large black eyes. She turned her head and blew, the snort thrown out like a challenge.

 

Dang it. Sara couldn’t pass up a dare. She couldn’t. Especially one from a horse named after a baking ingredient. Turning to the right, just enough she could see if anyone approached, she waited. And waited.

 

Laughter drifted on the slight summer breeze from behind the barn where Rosie wanted to put the garden.

 

Sara Beth looked again at the feisty creature. She wouldn’t even need a saddle. The first month she’d been at the ranch, Michael had taught her to ride bareback. Because she was being retrained, Sugar had a bridle on almost all the time. According to Michael, he wanted her to get used to the feel.

 

One more glance over her shoulder, and Sara Beth slipped the rope from the gate over the post. The gate swung open on oiled hinges. She ducked inside the well-trodden circle.

 

Arms widespread, she approached Sugar, softly clucking and murmuring, “Good girl. Okay, girl. You’re okay.”

 

She had to ride Sugar. She had to prove to them all she could do it. She could ride the most difficult horse on the ranch. Maybe then, Michael would let her help train.

 

If she couldn’t have the chance to train and be more involved at the ranch she had to get into Miss Wrangler Montana. The winner toured with the rodeo – all over the state of Montana.

 

One thing Sara Beth wanted more than training horses was out of Colby, away from her sister’s babying, and more importantly, to be around horses as much as possible without always feeling like she needed permission.

 

The dark horse scuttled a few feet back, out of Sara Beth’s reach, but didn’t do anything drastic. She watched as Sara Beth approached slow and steady.

 

Foot by foot, Sara Beth moved closer.

 

Sugar didn’t retreat any further, but held her ground and only jerked slightly when Sara Beth’s fingers grazed her nose.

 

“Thatta girl. You’re alright. I’m good. I just want to ride you. I’m the one who brushes you every day. We got this. We can do this.” Sara Beth took control of the reins and gently led the horse to the mounting block. Climbing up, still clucking and cooing, Sara Beth lowered herself to a crouching position and rested her hand on the horse’s back, applying pressure for the horse to adapt to.

 

Sugar’s muscles bunched and shivered. She shook her mane, the black strands shaking with the head toss. But she didn’t balk and didn’t push Sara Beth away.

 

Careful to keep the touch constant, Sara Beth sidled her leg over the dip in the horses back where the saddle would rest.

 

They adjusted to each other. Sara Beth tried not to move too much as Sugar accepted her weight and body onto her own.

 

Lightly tapping Sugar’s flank with her heel, Sara Beth pushed her hips forward just enough to indicate she wanted to go. Sugar responded like they’d been riding partners for years.

 

A large grin broke through Sara Beth’s usual glower. She wanted so badly to be good at something, preferably this.

 

“Michael’s wrong about you, isn’t he? You’re just a sweet thing that doesn’t need to be broken, huh?” Sara Beth trotted Sugar out of the ring and past the barn, careful to keep the large structure between herself and her sister’s watchful eye.

 

Guiding the horse to the riding trail along the perimeter fencing that led to the forest line and the hills, Sara Beth leaned down and patted the tight muscles of Sugar’s neck. “Well, I won’t tell anyone. Promise.”

 

She relaxed her grip on the reins and as she sensed the release of the bit, Sugar claimed it in her own bite. The horse yanked her head forward and dug into her stride, lengthening her neck as she lowered her head into line with her body.

 

The new position pulled Sara Beth into a crouch and she tightened her legs while trying to lean back in the slope of Sugar’s back. “Whoa. Whoa! Come on, Sugar, slow down.”

 

But Sugar had control.

 

And Sara Beth was only along for the ride.

 

With ferocious speed, Sugar tore over the prairie path as if sensing the freedom and camouflage to be had in the forest bordering most of Clearwater County.

 

Sara Beth stole a glance over her shoulder, but no one had seen her leave. She’d made sure of that.

 

Hopefully, Sara Beth could hang on until Sugar either slipped and released control of the bridle or she tired and returned them home of her own accord.

 

Gripping the leather straps so tight they cut into her palms and the creases of her fingers, Sara Beth held on. She bit out between gritted teeth. “You’re really an evil horse, aren’t you?”

 

They reached the forest and all its black, green, and brown splendor faster than Sara Beth had been prepared for.

 

Sugar didn’t even slow as they galloped through the brush bordering the tree line.

 

Low-lying branches and needles whipped Sara Beth, clawing at her clothes. One came out of nowhere and whacked her hat off. Hunkering down behind Sugar’s head did little to stave off the clutching limbs.

 

A fallen log the width of the horse’s abdomen crossed their path. Sara Beth couldn’t see the forest entrance behind her and she didn’t see anything familiar around.

 

She’d never jumped bareback – didn’t know the territory.

 

She curled her toes in her boots, longing for the stability of stirrups.

 

That horse was going to take the log, regardless of how hard Sara Beth pulled on the reins.

 

The distance shortened…

 

Twenty yards. More branches reached for her, scraping her.

 

Ten yards. Sara Beth gritted her teeth.

 

Five yards. Okay, she closed her eyes.

 

In less than an instant, she felt weightless. The body of the horse left the ground and Sara Beth opened her eyes in wonder. The reins slipped from her sweaty grasp. She really was weightless as she hung suspended in the air for a split second while the horse galloped away from under her.

 

Reality moved into slow motion.

 

The log. The rocks collected beneath it like a memorial ring. Moss decorated the log and the trunks of the trees around her.

 

She fell. The horse had abandoned her high in the air – a good seven or eight feet.

 

Landing on her back on the solid trunk, Sara Beth’s breath left her chest, whooshing from her mouth. Her head hung back limply and she stared at the trees upside down.

 

Stupid evil wenchy horse.

 

Her eyes closed and she gave into the pain.