Wild Horses, Wild Hearts 2 Page 5

  Despite her attempts to hide it, Chase spied Leyla’s cheeks coloring red with impatience. To her credit, that was the only way that Leyla let her embarrassment show, keeping her lips bolted shut and refusing to look petulant in front of the seasoned show rider.

  “Alright, Whirlwind, let’s try that again,” she said, keeping the frustration out of her tone as she gripped the reins and moved the horse to turn around so that she could attempt the leap again.

  “Hold that thought just a second, Leyla,” Chase called, moving Cannonball over to where she and Whirlwind were. “I think you might be going about this all wrong.”

  “How do you mean, Chase?” she asked, befuddlement lacing her voice.

  “Well, it seems to me that you’re trying to force Whirlwind over the bale rather than signal him over it,” Chase observed. “When I first arrived at the ranch, I saw you and him clear the corral fence like it was nothing.”

  “Did I?” Leyla queried. The look on her face indicated that she had no recollection of that event taking place.

  “I think I see what’s happening here,” Chase deduced. “Leyla, when you’re trying to tell Whirlwind to jump over something, how hard are you squeezing him with your legs?”

  “Hard as I can,” she replied, her brim once more dipping to shield her eyes.

  “Ah,” Chase answered, the problem becoming clear to him. “A rider and their horse need to work together, not against each other. I want you to try clearing that jump again, but this time squeeze him lightly with your legs, like you were brushing a feather along his sides. Understand what I’m saying?”

  Leyla nodded, though she still appeared slightly confused. Chase and Cannonball retreated to the side as she and Whirlwind put some distance between themselves and the hay bale, ready to charge at it.

  Work with the horse, Leyla, not against the horse, Chase thought encouragingly.

  WORK WITH THE HORSE, not against the horse, Leyla mentally chanted, determined to heed Chase’s advice and achieve the jump.

  Deliberately taking her time, she directed Whirlwind in the direction of the hay bale, lining him up ever so slightly. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves and her throbbing heart at the same time.

  What if I fail again? she worried. He’s going to think I’m not fit to be a show rider if I can’t even make Whirlwind do a simple trick.

  She lifted her head to look over at Chase and when she did, she felt all of her anxieties evaporate. There he was, sitting atop his two-toned mount and smiling at her in that disarmingly encouraging way. Though he remained silent, his eyes seemed to tell her that he had full confidence in her abilities.

  Feeling a reinvigoration of her confidence sweep through her, Leyla gripped the reins and spurred Whirlwind forward, the horse beating a beeline straight toward the hay bale.

  As Leyla felt the rhythm of her horse’s hooves pound against the soil, she felt an odd euphoria coursing through her. She had felt the sensation a few times before and only when she was riding.

  I feel like I’m the one running, she mused, as though she and Whirlwind were of one body and spirit.

  The two reached the hay bale after what Leyla felt was an eternity. But as she and Whirlwind were almost on top of it, she gently squeezed her legs around Whirlwind’s midsection, just as Chase had instructed her to do.

  Whirlwind reacted instantaneously, his four powerful limbs pushing against the ground and propelling himself and his rider upward into the air and over the hay bale, much as they had done earlier.

  The two returned to earth with the thunder of hooves, and Leyla pulled on the reins, slowing her horse down.

  I...I did it, she thought in amazement.

  “That a ways, Leyla!” she heard Chase call out. She looked over to him and saw the show rider gently applauding her display.

  Leyla couldn’t help but beam proudly at what she’d accomplished. Feeling like the entire world was within her fingers, she spurred Whirlwind toward the other obstacles and cleared them with much the same skill she had just demonstrated.

  After another few minutes of trying out her newfound ability, she made her way over toward Chase. The two riders slid out of their saddles and stood before one another, each one’s eyes searching those of the other.

  “Sure as the sun rises in the east, Leyla McNeal, you’re gonna make a fine show rider,” Chase complimented.

  Leyla blushed, but this time she owned up to it rather than hide it beneath her hat. “I couldn’t have done it without your instruction, Chase,” she replied.

  The two stood there for a moment, staring at one another with mutual looks of admiration, though anyone observing the scene could have told that there was more in their eyes than that.

  Chapter III: A Delightful Supper Surprise

  MCNEAL RANCH LAND, Near Cheyenne, Wyoming Territory, August 1885

  “Margaret McNeal, you are going to wear a groove into the floor if you keep pacing around like that,” Abigail stated, not even looking up from the book she was reading.

  The owner of the McNeal ranch didn’t even bother sparing her mother a glare as she continued pacing back and forth in front of the stone hearth. It had been several hours since Leyla had ridden off to the southern pasture to train with Chase McAllister and no one had seen hide or hair of the two since then.

  John, sitting in another of the comfortable chairs in the parlor, was also trying to keep his attention focused on a book he had in his hands. “Maggie, please,” he asked calmly. “She’ll come back perfectly fine and you’ll see there was nothing to worry about.”

  “It’s almost sunset,” Margaret snapped, her eyes darting between the two as though she were offended that they were both as calm as they were. “I’m going to go out there and—”

  The sound of the front door opening caused everyone’s head to turn toward the entrance to the parlor. Following the sound of the door closing, two sets of feet could be heard walking down the hall.

  Sure enough, Leyla McNeal, still dressed in her riding clothes and beaming brightly, entered the parlor followed swiftly by Chase McAllister, the show rider’s hat respectfully in his hands.

  “I’m home everyone,” Leyla announced, though her eyes were locked on her older sister with a look that all but said I told you so.

  “Welcome home, Leyla,” Abigail greeted, closing her book with a smile. “And welcome to our home, Mister McAllister.” The McNeal matriarch rose and crossed the room to where Chase stood. “I’m Abigail McNeal, Margaret and Leyla’s mother. It’s a pleasure to meet you face to face, especially after showing your skills last night.”

  Chase bowed at the waist. “The pleasure’s all mine, Missus McNeal,” he replied. “Believe it or not, the traveling performance life can get to be a little routine after a while. Leyla here helped break a bit of that monotony.”

  Abigail looked between Chase and her younger daughter, as though her eyes could see their innermost thoughts and memories. Still, her welcoming smile never left her lips.

  “Well, I’m still pleased you could accept my daughter’s spontaneous invitation,” Abigail opined. “Tell me, Mister McAllister, would you care to stay for dinner? I have a delicious roast duck with potatoes prepared.”

  “Much obliged, Missus McNeal, but I should be—” Chase began to say before a telltale growl sounded from his stomach, causing Leyla and Abigail to both giggle.

  Chase laughed awkwardly at the noise. “Well, I guess I could stay for a short while, if it’s no burden to you, Missus McNeal,” he admitted.

  “No burden at all, Mister McAllister,” Abigail said with a wave of her hand. “Guests of the McNeal family are never allowed to leave hungry.” She turned around to face her older daughter and John. “Would you two help get the table set up in here, please? Oh, and Maggie, please set an extra space for our guest.”

  Margaret looked like she had a rebuke ready on her tongue, but her resolve was shut down as Abigail narrowed her eyes slightly. Silently, Margaret pulled Jo
hn up from his chair and led him off to do as Abigail had requested of them.

  Abigail returned her attention to Leyla and her guest. “While they’re setting up the table for dinner, Leyla, I want you to go clean up and then give me a hand in the kitchen. As for you, Mister McAllister, you are free to make yourself comfortable in here, though there is a wash basin just up the hall if you’d like to clean up some as well.”

  Once again, Chase bowed slightly at the hip. “Mighty kind of you to offer so, Missus McNeal,” he replied. “I think I might just take up your offer on that.” With that, he turned on his boot heel and made his way up the hallway as directed.

  Before Leyla could continue watching him retreat up the hallway, she felt a light tapping on her shoulder.

  “Clean up, little Leyla,” her mother whispered serenely. “There’ll be plenty of time to stare and sigh at Mister McAllister over supper.”

  Leyla blushed immediately at her mother’s insinuation, but she quickly beat a path to her own room in order to do as she was told.

  Abigail couldn’t help but grin as she regarded everything that had just transpired.

  With a little luck, she thought hopefully, maybe both of my daughters can have fine men in their lives. Provided John steps up and gives my daughter that ring he has been carrying around. It’s been weeks of them making eyes at each other and stealing kisses when they think none but the Almighty can see them. I’d like to see grandchildren before I pass on into the next life. And by George, I expect I will.

  Allowing that hope to flourish within her mind, Abigail made her way to the kitchen in order to put the final touches on the sumptuous dinner that was to come.

  AS JOHN HELPED MARGARET set up the table and settings in the parlor, he wasn’t sure whether the invitation for Chase McAllister to stay for dinner was a blessing in disguise or an omen on misfortune for his own plans.

  I’ve made up my mind, and I’m asking her tonight, he thought determinedly. The ring was stowed safely in his pocket, awaiting the moment that it would be given the chance to shine forth with the new hope that John and Margaret could truly start their new life together.

  Admittedly, John was still anxious about the whole thing, considering how she had reacted at his last proposal. Even without the added wrinkle of Leyla and her guest.

  It doesn’t take a smart man to see that little Leyla is enamored with Mr. McCallister already, he smiled as he thought. Now all the young man has to do is make sure he doesn’t do anything that’ll give Maggie cause to skin him from end to end.

  Though John wished the two well, his main focus at that moment was asking for and acquiring the hand of Margaret McNeal in marriage.

  I just hope— John started to think before stopping and changing the direction of the thought. I know how important her ranch is to her, and I’d never do anything to take that away. She has to know that. She has to know I love her. She has to say yes this time. Please, by God.

  DINNER WAS SERVED NOT long after Chase and Leyla returned from cleaning up, Abigail entering the parlor with a steaming roasted duck with potatoes atop a wide platter.

  Chase, still trying to make a good impression on Abigail and Margaret McNeal, stood to help Abigail but was quickly waved away.

  “Be seated, Mister McAllister,” Abigail chuckled. “Just as I told Mister Baldwin here the first time he dined with us, a guest in the McNeal home has only to enjoy themselves.”

  Chase returned to his seat, noting the appreciative smile that Leyla flashed him for making the gesture. A quick glance at Margaret found her countenance to still be as impassive as stone while John gave the show rider a slight nod of his head, a silent admission that Chase had his heart in the right place.

  Once all were settled in and the food began making its way around the table, the conversations began.

  “SO, LEYLA,” MARGARET began, carving up a portion of duck on her plate as she spoke, “what did you learn today?”

  Here we go, Leyla thought sullenly, but she reinforced her will and decided that she would tell the truth.

  “Chase was kind enough to show me a few ways to help get Whirlwind adjusted to me much faster,” she answered serenely, though she couldn’t help but notice her sister’s slight pause at the use of their guest’s given name.

  “If I may, Miss McNeal,” Chase politely interjected, “but Leyla gives me far too much credit. In all honesty, I still don’t believe that she’s only been training a few months and is already as skilled as she is. The fact that she’s riding a horse she just broke yesterday so well is a testament to what she must be learning from you.”

  The compliment, spoken so genuinely as it was, seemed to be well received by Margaret. Leyla could see that her sister now gripped her utensils less tightly than before, a sign that she was becoming more open to Chase’s presence.

  “Well, I’d be telling tall tales if I said that I was solely responsible,” Margaret admitted. “I like to think she gets a lot of her skill from our late father, much as I have.”

  “Was he a show rider as well?” Chase asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. When Margaret gave him a momentary sidelong glance he backtracked. “My apologies for prying. It’s just I have to imagine that your father was a mighty skilled rider if the skill I’ve seen in Leyla is any indication.”

  “No need to apologize at all, Mister McAllister,” Abigail chimed in, drawing the conversation her way as she knocked a few potatoes around with her fork. “My late husband was touted as one of the finest and skilled cavalrymen in the whole of the Union Army. He loved horses and he passed that love along to his daughters, both of whom have worked hard to carry on his passion.”

  Both Margaret and Leyla lightly blushed at their mother’s praise, especially in front of John and Chase.

  I hope Mama isn’t going to be praising me in front of Chase all night, Leyla worried.

  “If shere’sh one shing sheh,” John started to say through a mouth full of duck before he remembered himself and swallowed. “Pardon me, but if there’s one thing the McNeal sisters love it’s riding horses and show riding. First day I blew into Cheyenne with Longbow I had the distinct pleasure of seeing the marvelous Margaret McNeal perform an impressive feat of marksmanship all while mounted on a moving horse.”

  “John...” Margaret said quietly, looking away as John recounted the first time he had seen her.

  Not so fun being on the other end, is it? Leyla thought smugly at her sister’s sudden embarrassment.

  “I believe you, Mister Baldwin,” Chase replied, displaying a bit more manners than any of the others expected of a traveling showman by using his napkin to dab at the corner of his lips, where some of the juices from the delicious duck had accumulated. “There’s lots of stories east of the Mississippi telling about a lady show rider and cattle rancher who can drive a herd just as easily as she can ride frontways, backways and sideways. Come to think of it, Miss McNeal, you better watch out for Professor Monro. Sure as a mule is stubborn, he’ll try and persuade you to join our little traveling family.”

  Margaret barked a laugh before catching herself, though the laugh itself had sounded more from genuine mirth than derision.

  “I’m certain he would,” she countered, “but I’m happy right where I am. My father left this entire ranch to me, and I’ve got a duty to see to it that it continues to thrive.”

  “Can’t say I blame you,” Chase agreed. “And might I say that your ranch is easily one of the biggest I’ve seen in the east or west.”

  “And we only plan to get bigger, Chase,” John said, switching to the more informal name. “Though the ladies present may claim that I’ve been helpful in making the ranch more productive in the last few months, Miss Margaret is the real brains behind the operation. This lady’s got a head for thinking up the impossible and making it come true.”

  Thank you, John Baldwin, Leyla thought, ecstatic to see that his praise was eroding her sister’s walls and making her relax. That man is a Godsend i
n more ways than I can count.

  “Intelligent business combined with a strong work ethic and a demand for the best is all it is, really,” Margaret voiced, trying to downplay John’s praise. “But he’s wrong when he claims he’s been helpful.”

  All of the heads turned to regard Margaret curiously. The brunette smiled at John’s look of confusion.

  “Saying he’s been ‘helpful’ would be doing an injustice to all of his work,” she clarified, giggling quietly as she noticed John look away in mild embarrassment at her praise.

  “Well, someone had to mind the ranch while you were teaching Leyla,” John retorted playfully.

  “Speaking of teaching,” Abigail began, curiosity infiltrating her tone, “forgive me my curiosity, Mister McAllister, but wherever did you learn to ride like you do? I’ve seen a wide array of show riders, thanks in no small part due to my daughters’ shared passion, but I don’t think I’ve seen anything like what you performed last night... Aside from Margaret’s work, obviously.”

  Now from Mama, too? Leyla groaned, unhappy at this question being aimed at Chase again.

  Chase, however, seemed to take her mother’s query in his stride, a nostalgic smile lighting up his handsome features. “Well, y’all might find it hard to believe, but I told Leyla earlier that I’ve only been show riding for about five years now. And before that, I certainly wasn’t what you’d call a professional rider by any stretch of the word.”

  “Could’ve fooled me,” John spoke, an eyebrow quirking up at the admission. “You seem like a man who was born in the saddle.”

  “I appreciate that, John,” Chase said gratefully, “but way back then the best I could do was ride a horse at a steady gait just to get where I was going. Around that time, I was a bit of a wanderer, taking odd jobs here and there just to get by. Then one day, I met a group of show riders who took me in and showed me what it really means to ride a horse. I like to think that was the first day I really felt alive.”