Page 18 of Taming the Wild Cowboy

“They expect to be fed.”

“I figured.” Maclyn stood waiting for the horses to give her the once-over before approaching. Wade’s old Appaloosa approached first, stretching out his speckled muzzle to see if she had treats, then moving in for some rubs.

“That’s Spot,” Trev said as she stroked the gelding’s neck.

“Well named.”

Spot laid his ears back at the horses trying to squeeze in to get their share of loving. Most backed off a step or two, but Roger, Trev’s sturdy roping horse, was not deterred.

“I remember you, rude guy.” Maclyn laughed as the horse nudged her arm. “He’s looking good.”

“He should. He’s done nothing but eat since last September and that will continue into the foreseeable future.”

Mac shot him a quick look. “You’re serious about retiring from roping?”

Maybe not, if Dylan was serious about unretiring. He wasn’t going to get into that.

“I have a lot going on. Not much time for extracurriculars.”

“It’s good to have a way to blow off steam.”

“You retired from barrel racing,” he pointed out. “How do you blow off steam?”

She gave a careless shrug. “I go toe-to-toe with my employer over a horse, then act all surprised when it gets me fired.”

Trev managed to keep a neutral expression as he said, “Perhaps you need another way to vent.”

“You think?”

“Are you totally tied to the horse industry? Or do you have other job skills?”

“Do rich girls need those?” she asked with mock innocence, causing warmth to creep up the back of Trev’s neck.

He’d flippantly said something along those lines when he and Brooke had been discussing the importance of fallback plans in case her equine career didn’t pan out, and Mac’s name had come up as not having one.

“Brooke ratted me out?” Trev asked.

“She did,” Mac said as she worked out a small witch’s twist in Roger’s mane.

Looked like he’d been right about Brooke easing a wedge between her guy and her travel partner.

“Why aren’t you going to your parents for help?”

Maclyn’s fingers stilled momentarily, then she went back to work on Roger’s mane. “My dad died when I was nineteen, and my mom isn’t in a position to help.”

Okay.

She finished untying the knot in Roger’s mane, then reached out to pat the roan mare who’d gone down with Wade the previous fall. She zeroed in on the mare’s now healed leg, pointed at it with her chin. “How long ago was she hurt?”

Trev recounted the story and Maclyn nodded as she straightened. “Healed well.”

“She did.” Trev hooked a thumb on the edge of his jacket pocket. “I’m kind of wondering why Brooke didn’t set me straight about your circumstances when I called you rich.”

“Oh, the family was rich-ish then. Or thought we were.” Trev frowned and Mac continued. “Frank, the CFO and my father’s supposed best friend, ran the business into the ground after Dad passed away.”

“How?”

“Embezzlement. He was getting ready to make an escape when one of the old-time associates told Mom that things were not right. Mom ordered an audit and, well, Frank went to jail.”