"Oh, dear," Angela sighed. "I don't think we're ever going to get his language cleaned up."

  "Probably not," Michael agreed. "But Stone's not our assignment, remember?"

  "You're right, of course. I just don't understand why men don't think they're men unless they curse once in a while."

  "He probably doesn't even realize he's doing it. It's a habit. Tess drops one of those four-letter words herself now and then."

  "Usually when she's angry," Angela answered. "But that doesn't make it acceptable, either."

  "Well, we'll see what we can do about that, too, Angie. Right now I'm more interested in how long it's going to take Tess to realize that's really her horse we brought here for her, if they manage to get Sateen into that horse trap. And I want to see what sort of a trap Stone has in mind."

  "I haven't figured out myself how they're going to manage to corral that many horses."

  "I talked with an old cow poke who came under my guidance once," he said. "There're different ways to build traps for horses, and this will be the first time Stone and Tess have had to work together on something. What you want to bet they've both got their own idea about how to do this?"

  She laughed. "I don't think I'll take that bet."

  A few minutes later, Tess propped her hands on her hips and shot an exasperated look at Stone.

  "What do you mean, we have to build it here? The canyon's a lot narrower up there. We'd only have to build a fence half as big if we did it up there."

  "We're not going to fence it. We're gonna start a rockslide down each side of the canyon, and that will start the wall. Then you can pile more rocks up to make the walls higher while I build a gate and hide it with brush."

  "Do you have any idea how high those walls will have to be so the horses can't jump them?"

  "Yep," Stone said.

  "I still think it makes more sense to do it farther up, where the canyon's narrower."

  "For Pete's sake, Tess, we have to have a big enough opening for the horses to run through. They'll turn right back on us if the opening's too narrow."

  "Oh."

  "Yeah, oh. You wanted to help—so let's get busy."

  Several hours later, Tess looked down at her chipped and broken nails with a grimace. Even the gloves she carried in her backpack hadn't protected her hands completely. In fact, she thought as she pulled the stained and torn gloves back on, she even had a blister or two. And it was going to take more than lotion to soften the calluses that were forming.

  She bent and picked up another small rock, trying to ignore the pain in her back. One more row, Stone had insisted. Well, one more row he would get, if her arms held out. Seemed like he had the easier job, fashioning the gate. He almost had it finished. She paused for a moment, watching him test the gate by swinging it to and fro.

  His shirt hung over the top rail, and he picked it up to wipe his forehead. Sweat glistened on his back, and the smooth muscles rippled under his tan. Wet curls clung to the back of his neck, a deep mahogany satin in contrast to the lighter, sun-streaked brown, lit by reddish highlights in the sun. She'd never seen a man's hair take on so many different hues.

  He arched and massaged the small of his back and her mouth went dry. Lord, he was beautiful. His sleek power reminded her of the snow-white stallion's muscle-packed body, every part flowing into the other in a fluid picture of grace. She sighed with desire.

  "Ouch!"

  She grabbed her foot, then tumbled onto her rear. Staring at the offending rock, which had nicked her big toe when her fingers loosened and dropped it, she fought the urge to kick it with her heel.

  "You all right?"

  Stone started toward her, but she waved him off.

  "I'm okay. It didn't really hurt—just surprised me and made me think it was going to hurt bad."

  "If you're so tired you're dropping things, maybe we better take a break."

  "Tired? You're darned right I'm tired! Why shouldn't I be tired? I've been hauling these stupid rocks around for hours and hours. And now the dumb rocks aren't even cooperating!"

  "What do you think they should do? Grow legs and let you direct them where you want them to go?"

  "Shut up. Just shut up and let me get back to work."

  "I'm not stopping you," he told her in a mild voice.

  Grunting, she lurched to her feet. Pressing her lips shut, she grabbed the rock and dropped it sharply in place. The rock crumbled, and pieces of it fell on both sides of her fence.

  Twenty-Six

  Tess cautiously stretched her aching muscles as she watched Stone silently slip away from the spot where he had hidden her and the gray gelding. He disappeared almost instantly, since it was still pitch dark.

  He wouldn't even let her make coffee this morning, insisting the fire smoke would settle in the valley and spook the horses away. And she wasn't worth a darn in the morning until after at least two cups of caffeine. She hoped her groggy mind could remember everything he had told her.

  Wait for him to ride out and block the path the horses took yesterday morning when they left the valley, he'd whispered. Then ride out herself—fast—and try to head the herd into the trap. Don't worry about any single horses that managed to break out of the herd—let them go and concentrate on the main group. Whatever she did, stay the hell away from that white stallion.

  She could hear the horses out there—now and then a soft whicker, even the grass pulling out of the soil as the horses grazed—though she couldn't even see a shadow in the pitch blackness. Her gray gelding was silent, making no attempt to communicate with the wild horses. Stone must have trained him well.

  She contented herself with scratching Lonesome's ears while she waited. Stone had ordered her not to climb into the saddle until after she saw him ride out into the valley—the creak of leather as she mounted might carry to the herd's ears.

  She blinked her eyes when she saw a movement. She'd been concentrating so hard, she hadn't even realized the darkness was fading. She glanced at the ridge top and was able to make out the jagged outline. Looking out across the valley floor, she found she could see the shape of a horse here and there.

  Her muscles tensed in anticipation, and Lonesome whined slightly.

  "Hush," she whispered. "Oh, hush, Lonesome. If we scare that herd away, Stone will probably spank us both."

  Lonesome dropped down and propped his head on his front paws, silently watching the horses.

  "Good boy," she breathed.

  It seemed like forever as she waited. Where in the world was Stone? She saw the white stallion come alert, then rear, a bugling challenge splitting the valley air.

  She swung into the saddle and the gelding leapt into an almost immediate gallop. Remembering Stone's instructions, she grabbed the rope coiled on her saddle horn and swept it back and forth over her head, yelling at the top of her lungs as she sped toward the horses.

  The stallion whirled to face the new threat, screaming defiance as he reared and pawed the air again. She saw Stone bent low over his own horse, galloping at the herd from the opposite side. Confused, the mares swirled in panic, neighing wildly to their colts as they waited for the stallion to head them in the direction he wanted.

  A rifle shot split the air, then two more. Chancing another glance at Stone from the back of her smoothly running gelding, she watched him rein his horse to a skidding halt and aim at the stallion. A puff of dirt by the stallion's feet sent the white horse plunging away from his herd.

  A half-dozen mares split off from the herd and followed the stallion, but Stone's well-trained horse leapt back into action and cut off escape for the remainder. The bunched-up mares milled in disorder. Then, catching sight of even their tentative escape route blocked by Lonesome's racing figure, they turned and galloped for the gate hidden at the canyon entrance.

  The mares streamed between the two rock walls and headed deeper into the canyon. She knew they couldn't go far—the canyon ended in a steep cliff face, and both sides were way too rocky for the horses to climb. She reached the gate a few seconds after Stone had dismounted and watched him fling the last bush aside and swing the logs closed.

  The white stallion reappeared, racing toward the gate, his body almost flat out against the ground. His lips were drawn back, baring his yellow teeth.

  She kicked her gelding in the sides and the gray horse responded, leaping into a gallop.

  "Damn it, Tess! Don't!"

  She swung the rope over her head as she raced toward the stallion. "Get out of here! Get!"

  "Tess!"

  "Get! I said get out of here!" Suddenly she realized the stallion wasn't going to turn. Her eyes widened as the distance between the two wildly galloping horses narrowed. Frantically, she threw the rope away and sawed on her reins.

  The stallion lowered its head and charged the gray gelding. Her horse neighed in terror and swerved, trying to avoid the attack. The stallion's shoulder hit her horse's hind haunch and it stumbled. She flew through the air in an arc, closing her eyes as she waited for the sickening crunch when she hit the ground.

  Almost at once her eyes flew open again. How far away was that darned ground? The creek rushed up at her and she landed with a splash, the cold water shocking her almost senseless.

  Sputtering and spitting out water, she scrambled to her feet and stared downward in surprise. The creek didn't look that deep, but she hadn't even felt the rocks lining the bed when she hit.

  Swiping at the water streaming down her face, she turned when she heard Stone's shouts and Lonesome's frantic barks. She saw the white stallion racing away, with Lonesome nipping at its heels. Stone slid his horse to a halt and swung from the saddle, advancing on her with a deadly glint in his walnut-hued eyes.

  "What the hell did you think you were doing?" he snarled. "Didn't I order you to keep the hell away from that stallion?"

  She backed up a step, almost tripping on a rock in the stream. "I... I... thought... he... he was c... coming after the mares."

  "He was coming after us!" he shouted. "He could've had those mares back with no trouble if he killed us first!"

  "Oh."

  She took another step backwards. He advanced a step.

  "Didn't I make it clear that you were supposed to do exactly what I said? And didn't I tell you under no circumstances to get near that stallion?"

  "Yes."

  He waved his arms and bent toward her. "Then why the hell did you gallop out there on a collision course with that white devil?"

  She shrugged. "To try to keep him from getting our mares?"

  Stone closed his eyes and stood breathing deeply for several long seconds. "To try to keep him from getting our mares," he finally muttered through clenched teeth. He slit his eyes. "I ought to tan your fanny until you can't walk!"

  "Yeah. I told Lonesome you might do that to us both, if we screwed things up."

  When Stone continued to glare at her, his jaws working as though he wanted to still shout at her but couldn't think of anything terrible enough to say, she shivered and crossed her arms over her chest.

  "You're wet," he finally said.

  "Yes. I landed in the creek, you know."

  He glanced down almost in surprise to find himself standing in the creek with her. The water cascaded over his boots, well below the tops.

  "This water's not deep enough to break a fall that hard." Suddenly he grabbed her by the shoulders. "Are you hurt? Tess, don't try to put on a front. Tell me where you're hurt."

  Not waiting for an answer, he swept her into his arms and splashed out of the creek bed. "We have to get you dry."

  "Stone, really, I'm not hurt. I hardly felt it when I landed."

  When he only grunted in disbelief, she snuggled her head against his shoulder while he bypassed the two horses and continued carrying her toward the gate across the canyon. At least he wasn't yelling at her any longer.

  Lonesome padded up to Stone's side and paced with them, his tongue hanging out in exhaustion, but a look of as much satisfaction as a dog could manage on his face.

  "Oh, dear, Michael. I don't know if it was such a good idea, getting her wet like that."

  "Now just a dad-blamed minute, Angie," he replied. "I thought it was a right fine idea. I had to fly her through the air just a little farther than she normally would've gone, but that water made the perfect landing spot. What would Stone have thought if she landed on that hard ground and didn't get hurt? We're not supposed to let them guess that we're around, you know."

  "I didn't mean that. I meant... well, she's awfully wet."

  "That's what usually happens when people get in water—they get wet."

  "But look. Her clothing's clinging to her. She looks awfully... desirable. And they've been trying to keep their hands off each other while they're alone out here."

  "Yeah, I see what you're talking about. I think Stone sees it, too."

  Stone backed away from where he had sat Tess down on one of the larger boulders beside the fence. She lifted her hands to push back her sopping hair, and the movement thrust her breasts against her wet shirt. The soaking material clearly outlined the pebbled tips.

  Darn it, he really wished she'd wear some sort of restraint on those beautiful breasts. He could even make out the dark pink centers through that pale blue shirt.

  "I'll build a fire." He ordered his legs to move, but they remained as immobile as the rocks penning in the horses.

  "It's already getting hot." She ran her fingers through her wet hair, working out the tangles. "My clothes will dry pretty fast."

  "Not fast enough!"

  Tess glanced up, pushing aside a soggy curl that fell over her eyes. "May... maybe... a fire would help," she said.

  He turned his back on her abruptly. "Lonesome," he forced himself to say almost normally, "think you could go fetch those horses?"

  He waved an arm in the direction of the spot where the two horses grazed, and Lonesome jumped to his feet and raced away. He watched the dog for several seconds, trying to concentrate on his amazement that Lonesome seemed to understand his order. The dog circled behind the horses, then began herding them back toward Stone. He could feel Tess's eyes on him.

  "Quit staring at me!"

  "Hmmmm?" she murmured. "Are you growing eyes in the back of your head?"

  Stone grunted and reached for the reins of his horse, which Lonesome had herded near. After a brief pat on its muzzle, he moved around and untied his bedroll. He tossed it behind him in Tess's direction, resolutely refusing to turn and see if it fell close enough for her to reach.

  "You can sit on that while I get the fire going."

  "Okay."

  He stiffened when her voice came from right beside him.

  "But first I'm going to get some clothes from my backpack," she said as she walked past him toward the gray gelding. "Then I can hang these by the fire to dry."

  "There's nowhere for you to change down here!" he snarled. "If that's what you want to do, the least you can do is ride back up to where we camped last night!"

  "Oh, for pity's sake." Tess pulled her backpack from behind the saddle and set it on the ground. "You can turn your back, you know. I'm sure the horses won't get all hot and bothered if they watch me change clothes."

  He groaned and laid his head against his horse's broad rump. The horse turned and looked at him for a second, then dropped its muzzle to resume grazing as Stone fumbled with the ties holding his saddlebags.

  "Damned thing's in a knot," he grumbled.

  "Can I help?"

  "No! You stay over there!"

  Finally wrenching the saddlebags free, he slung them down beside his bedroll and began gathering up pieces of dry wood. A deadfall that would furnish at least a cord of wood lay just on the other side of Tess—but that was the problem. He grimly set his lips and broke one of the larger pieces of wood over his knee.

  Without thinking, he turned to carry the wood back closer to the saddlebags. He froze, and the wood tumbled from his suddenly nerveless arms.

  The gray gelding stood sideways, and it had six legs. The two shapely female legs in the middle lifted one after another, while a hand tugged at first one, then the other wet denim cuff and pulled the jeans free. The jeans were tossed over the horse's saddle, on top of the pale blue shirt. Then a tiny scrap of rose-colored material shimmied down her legs, pooling around the ankles for a second until she stepped out of it. A pink-tipped toe caught the scrap and flicked it upward. Her hand draped it on the saddle horn.

  "Move, horse," he growled. But when the horse seemed to obey and stepped forward, those very beautiful legs moved with it.

  Tess grabbed the towel from on top of her dry clothes on the gelding's rump and closed her eyes as she scrubbed it over her hair, then patted it over her body. The towel joined the wet denims, and she picked up her white, bikini underpants, lying on top of her dry jeans and shirt. Bending, she slipped them over her feet, tugging and swiveling her hips when the panties dragged on her still-damp skin.

  The tight jeans gave her even more of a problem than the bikinis, but Tess finally managed to pull them over her hips. Sucking in her stomach and promising herself that she wouldn't eat any of Flower's desserts after the young girl returned, she yanked the zipper up and reached for her shirt.

  As the gelding moved toward a tuft of grass just beyond its reach, she looked up to see where Stone was. She gave a squeak of dismay when the gelding switched its tail and swiped the shirt from her ineffective grasp.

  Time nearly stopped as Tess stood wrapped in the cocoon of Stone's desire-laden gaze. Her knees threatened to give way and her breasts grew heavy with desire. Her eyes—the only thing that seemed capable of movement—slowly left his face and crawled down his chest. She tried desperately to stay focused on that first button below the open V of his shirt but gave up and fixed her eyes on the lower one. Sliding downward, her gaze bypassed the last button above his belt buckle—and the buckle.

  How in the world did he fit all that masculinity behind those straining snaps? Surely it must be hurting him. She took a step forward and noticed those smooth thigh muscles flex as he began walking toward her.