Page 28 of Rocky Mountain Devil

Three, two—

The instant Gabe’s fingers struckonethey both shifted forward in the saddle, urging their horses into a run as they took off over a path they’d raced more times than Rafe could count.

That was when he knew everything would be okay. That moment when he felt almost weightless, Belle’s muscles bunching and stretching beneath him as they flew up the trail.

Rafe gripped tightly with his thighs as he leaned over Belle’s neck, no longer glancing beside him, completely focused on his forward flight as familiar territory whizzed past in a blur. The cool morning air brushed his cheek like the stroke of a lover.

As if the Coleman land were personified and caressing him, letting him know this was where he belonged.

They reached the finish line together, pulling to a walk to allow the horses to cool before descending into the coulee where the Whiskey Creek meandered.

Rafe rocked in the saddle. Comfortable, easy. “We have an amazing place, don’t we? We’re lucky to live here.”

“Luckier than a man can explain.” Gabe’s low rumble was tinged with emotion.

Rafe stared across at his big brother, the fierce sensation of hero worship toward him as strong as it had always been. It wasn’t that Gabe could do no wrong, but that he kept trying, and he’d been rewarded because of who he was deep inside.

“I really want what you’ve got some day,” Rafe shared.

“You’ll get there,” Gabe said seriously before his face twisted into a teasing grin. “Except for theannoying little brotherpart. That’s my joy to experience, not yours.”

“Shut up,” Rafe muttered without heat. He was glad to be Gabe’s little brother, annoying or otherwise.

They picked their way along the creek as cool air swirled around them, talking through plans for the rest of the month. It was pretty much familiar territory, which was fine by Rafe. Familiar didn’t mean boring.

A loud whistle drew their attention across the creek where a group of three horses broke clear of the trees. Their cousins Karen, Lisa and Jesse waved, pulling to a stop on the opposite bank.

Gabe and Rafe forded the creek at the shallowest part, joining the group on the other side. The horses settled next to each other with soft nickers and head tosses.

“You running trail rides on our land now?” Rafe asked Karen. She’d been using the Whiskey Creek horses in a camp in the Rockies for the past couple of years.

“Once you crossed Whiskey Creek you hit our land, but now that you mention it—” Karen winked. “Are you offering to be trail cook if I do?”

Rafe shrugged. “Better me than Jesse. I at least know the major food groups.”

“Beer, beans, steak and tequila,” Jesse drawled, lounging lazily in the saddle, his smile wide.

“Good breakfast menu—what’s for lunch?” Rafe taunted.

“If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”

Rafe made a rude noise. “Yeah, that explains so much about you.”

“Why I’m so awesome and worshipped by all I meet?”

“I was thinking about the smell.” Rafe leaned forward and sniffed. “Yeah. Explains so much…”

“Jerk,” Jesse offered with a grin.

“Stinker.”

“Asshole.”

“Butthead.”

Karen rolled her eyes. She pulled a wallet from her back pocket and handed over a twenty to her smirking sister.

Gabe snorted in amusement. “What was the bet?”