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Sawyer claps his hands. “Dang, she’s clever.”

“I told you to tack up the horses.”

Mollie purses her lips. “You’re really doing this.”

“Yes, I’m really taking time out of my day to show you around your ranch. You’re welcome.”

“Fine.” I feel her looking at me for a beat as I bend down to load the dishwasher. “I’ll ride. But Goody comes with us. Whatever plan you had to ditch me or feed me to a bear orwhatever isn’t going to happen.”

Straightening, I take the dirty silverware she holds out to me and return her smile. “We don’t have bears on the ranch. But we do have bobcats. And coyotes. And rattlers big enough to take out you and your horse.”

“Won’t be the first snake in the grass I’ve encountered here.”

The reply is quick, a slap just firm enough to make my skin tingle.

Sally grins. “I like her.”

I don’t. But with a little luck and a lot of help from the South Texas heat, this will be my first and only ride with City Girl.

CHAPTER 8

Cash

SHIT OUTTA LUCK

“You with the circus?”I ask, looking Mollie up and down as she strides into the horse barn alongside Wyatt. “Even Dolly Parton doesn’t dress like Dolly Parton all the time.”

“Don’t you dare speak ill of Dolly.” Mollie slips her thumbs through the belt loops of her skinny jeans. “And the only clown I see is you.”

Sawyer’s chuckling again, shaking his head as he tightens a saddle on one of the horses in crossties. He’s been here for twenty minutes or so, helping me tack up the horses. “I like the burn.”

“Don’t you have a job to do?” I snap, then turn back to Mollie. “Dolly is a goddamn treasure. I’d never insult her. But she’s not out here riding horses and working cattle in her big fancy getups, is she?”

Mollie’s eyes go a little wide as they move over the horse. “Working cattle? That mean what I think it does?”

I meet Sawyer’s gaze. It’s all I can do not to grin. She’s gonnahatethis.

“Means we’re handling the cows. Moving them from pasture to pasture. Takin’ care of sick cattle, finding lost ones,that kind of thing.” Wyatt leans an elbow against the stall. “For the record, Miss Luck, I like the look.”

I don’t. She’s gonna be uncomfortable and hot as hell in her skintight jeans and long-sleeved denim shirt that’s unbuttoned practically to her navel. A lacy purple bra peeks through. It matches her purple boots and the ridiculous feathered band wrapped around her pristine Stetson.

I look away. I honestly can’t tell if Mollie is wearing this shit ironically or if she’s just that ridiculous. That clueless. It’s a hundred fucking degrees out there. She’ll melt in this stuff. Never mind how dirty she’s going to get.

She smiles. “Thank you, Wyatt. And you know, I was just kidding about the Miss Luck thing. Please call me Mollie.”

I drop the mounting block on the ground by her feet. “Time to get on the horse, Mollie.”

“Not you, Cash. You can still call me Miss Luck.”

Rolling my eyes, I shove my hat onto my head. “Let’s get a move on.”

“Where’s Goody?”

“Out here!” the lawyer calls from the corral. Like a true Texan, Goody keeps spare riding gear in the trunk of her pickup. She’d changed and was in the saddle less than ten minutes after lunch wrapped up. “Y’all take your time.”

Mollie dubiously looks up at the brown mare waiting for her. “Please tell me his name is Easy Rider. Or Sweetie. Or Sugar Puff.”

Sawyer holds out his hand, still smiling. “This is Maria. She was your daddy’s horse.”