Taking the Reins (Roped and Wrangled) by Kat Murray Read Free Book Online Page A

thing. You’re going to use your brother as a trainer while he’s off the circuit? And when he goes back? Then what?”
    “Then it’s still none of your concern,” she bit out, stepping toward him. Her body vibrated with anger; her fists were clenched. If he had to guess, even her toes would be curled in her boots. When Peyton Muldoon felt something, it was all or nothing.
    “Now, Peyton,” Trace began.
    She whirled on him. “Don’t. Don’t even start. You promised.”
    “But he’s here. And you know—”
    “Don’t tell me what I know. He had his shot and he didn’t show up.”
    “I’m here now,” he said quietly, not caring for being talked about like he wasn’t there at all. “I’m here, and I’m sorry.”
    The quiet, sincere apology seemed to kick the wind from her angry sails. She knocked her hat back and blew out a breath. “I didn’t think you knew the word sorry.”
    “I use it sparingly.”
    “Peyton, can we talk?” When she said nothing, Trace tugged her elbow until she jolted and followed him to another corner of the arena.
    Red watched with amusement as Trace bent and spoke in Peyton’s ear. She tilted back and said something that had her brother shaking his head. Red stuffed his hands in his pockets and turned his back, giving them the illusion of more privacy. Wandering to another corner, he came upon the office. With the door wide open, he felt no guilt sticking his head in.
    A computer, older than Moses, sat on a desk cluttered with papers. Pile had to be two feet deep. Looked like the last trainer did less than nil with paperwork. Not shocking, knowing the kind of man Nylen was. Paperwork was never a favorite, but it was a necessary evil.
    “Callahan.”
    He turned to see Trace walking over, no Peyton in sight.
    Trace stopped in front of him, propped his shoulder on the wall, and looked very much at ease. “You’re right.”
    Once again, not what he’d expected. Red mimicked Trace’s posture, facing him. “Care to elaborate?”
    “I’m a cowboy. Rodeo lover. I can ride ’em. I can’t train ’em, not like this ranch needs. I’m not a pro at it. I was willing to give it a shot for Peyton. I love her, and I love this ranch, though I haven’t been here for a while. And I would have been better than nothing.” He smiled a little at the not-so-glowing recommendation. “But if there’s a better offer on the table, she’ll grab it.”
    Red made a show of looking around Trace to the empty building. “Don’t see any grabbing.”
    Trace chuckled. “If you know Peyton at all, you know it’s going to kill her to take back her decision. Admitting defeat has never been her strong suit. It’s sort of a Muldoon thing. She just needs some time to lick her wounds. She’ll get to it.” The laughter died from his eyes, and suddenly Red had no problem seeing Trace in the role of big, protective brother. “And when she’s ready, you will be good to her.”
    “Will I?” Being a shithead wasn’t his plan. But he was curious how far Trace would take the protector role.
    “She’s had the wind knocked out of her recently, first having the reins of the business handed over so unexpectedly, then Nylen showing just what an asshole he could be. I’m not saying she couldn’t use a little humility. But there’s humility, and then there’s humiliation. Take her prickliness in stride, and it’ll go a long way to smoothing the road to good working conditions.”
    Red nodded once. “I’ll take that into consideration.”
    “You do that.” He leaned away a bit. “What’s your big plan for the ranch?”
    Red scratched his chin, then decided there wasn’t any harm in sharing. “She’s going after the wrong clientele.”
    “Wrong?” Trace smiled. “Isn’t any client whose check clears the right one?”
    Red shook his head. “Selling kid ponies and work horses is fine and all. But if she wants to remake this place’s reputation, she needs fewer customers, but quality ones.