pocketknife.â
Samâs hands gripped each other in her lap.
âBut we donât do that,â Sam affirmed.
âNo, we donât,â Dad said.
âAnd Jenâs dad is okay with this, too?â Sam asked.
âYep. He thinks most of the strays will belong to the Gold Dust Ranch, since itâs their section youâll be riding. Iâll send a branding iron along with you, but Jennifer will be marking Gold Dust stock more often than youâll be marking ours.â
Samâs enthusiasm wavered. Earmarking cattle and branding them depended on roping. All her coordination fled when she tried to spin a lasso over her head, then fling it over anything.
Once, Pepper had rigged up a sawhorse with cow horns attached to it and shown her how heâd practiced when heâd decided to be a cowboy. It hadnât worked for her. No matter how often she sent her loop singing toward the mock cow, her rope had wobbled like limp spaghetti. Sheâd missed every time.
Now she had two days to change all that.
âWyatt,â Brynna said, âare you patient enough to teach Sam how to rope?â
âOf course.â Dad sounded a bit insulted. âBut Iâm not going to do it.â
âDallasââ Gram began, shaking her head.
âNope,â Dad said. âSeems to me weâve got a local expert who knows how to rope, but needs to polish his teaching skills before next week.â
âJake?â Sam squeaked her amazement.
Not after the way heâd shown off his roping skills today. No way.
She wet her lips and tried not to feel his ropejerking tight, then dragging her off Ace and into the muddy lake. âJakeâs going to teach me to rope?â
âThatâs right.â Dad said it like a dare.
Sam rolled her eyes toward the kitchen ceiling. How much did she want to go on a campout with Jen? A lot. A whole lot.
Then she closed her eyes for an instant, hoping God had a sense of humor about little white lies before she met Dadâs gaze.
âGreat.â She smiled so wide, her cheeks plumped up. âItâll be good for me and Jake to work together before the HARP girls come next week. I can hardly wait.â
Chapter Nine
F iguring sheâd need every minute of sleep, Sam went to bed early, but excitement kept her awake.
On nights like this, she expected the Phantom to appear at the boundary of the ranch that had once been his home. But no matter how determinedly she listened, no faraway neigh floated to her. Staring from her bedroom window, she saw nothing but the La Charlaâs waving sheen as the river, lit by a half-moon, meandered around rocks and past cottonwood trees, heading for the bridge.
No horses, no deer, and no dangerous dogs showed themselves to her watchful eyes.
Sam climbed back into bed and pulled her covers up to her chin. She tried to get comfortable on herback, but in the dimness of her room, the uneven plaster of her ceiling looked like running white horses. Curled on her side, she watched her bedside clock until she was convinced it had slowed to half speed.
Maybe she was too hot. She tossed off her blanket and sheet. The sudden movement summoned her cat, Cougar. With a loud meow, he leaped onto her bed, flopped down, and began kneading her knees with pricking claws.
âIf you want to cuddle,â Sam told the young cat, âcome up here.â
Gently she closed her hands around Cougarâs soft body and lifted him. Twisting wildly, he fought loose, jumped back to the floor, and skittered out her bedroom door.
âBe that way,â Sam whispered after him, but now she was totally awake.
Sam sat up and checked the time again.
It was only ten oâclock. It was quiet downstairs, but she knew that when it was warm, Gram had trouble sleeping, too.
Dressing in lightweight sweats and tennis shoes, Sam listened for movement along the upstairs hallway. She heard Dad snoring as he did when he was
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