Slapping Leather

Rawhide:

Slapping Leather

by

Desiree Holt

Chapter
One

The Texas summer sun beat down like a blast
furnace, the faint breeze doing little except to stir the rich scents of
horseflesh, earth and hay. Elizabeth Gillibrand had been working a new cutting
horse in the corral and she was tired, dirty and sweaty. Her clothes stuck to
her like a second skin, her jeans, the tank top and the work shirt she wore
knotted over it. She took off her straw hat, fanned herself and jammed the hat
back on her head. Right now the shower she’d been thinking of all day was
looking mighty damn good.

“Hey, Liz.” Scotty Masters, her lead trainer,
walked out of the nearest barn. “Another horse trailer’s coming down the road.
Where do you want it?”

She turned from where she stood at the corral
fence and watched the big pickup hauling the trailer approach with wings of
dust pluming behind it. They hadn’t had rain for so long everything around was
drier and hotter than hell. She looked back at Scotty and shrugged.

“We’ve only got one empty stall in the first barn
right now,” she told him. “Let’s get her unloaded and see if she likes her new
home.”

She knew without seeing it that the logo on the
side of the truck was just one word. Stanton. That’s all it needed. In their
small community everyone knew who the Stantons were. Money. Power. Politics.
Whatever. And Dean and Loretta Stanton were indulging their daughter’s burning
desire to be a competitive barrel racer.

The horse was brand new. It would be up to Liz
and her staff to ready her for the first sessions with young Trish, then start
the girl on the arduous trek to becoming one with a horse. The key to
successful barrel racing. To winning.

By the time the truck had pulled into the wide
gravel parking area, Scotty stood next to her holding a clipboard.

“This gives us a full house, Liz. Think we can
handle it all?”

She gave him her usually tight business smile. “We
can handle anything, Scotty, and don’t you forget it.”

The Lucky L Ranch had a reputation as the place
to train cutting horses and barrel racers, a reputation the late owner John Loughlin
had built with hard work and sweat. When Liz came to work for him five years
earlier as head trainer, she’d never expected him to become the family she’d
never had. Or to have him leave the entire facility to her when he dropped dead
a few months ago of a heart attack. The loss still hurt, but she hadn’t had the
luxury of grieving. Not with a business to run and vultures hovering all the
time.

Her practiced smile became second nature as she
fought resentment from the men who now worked for her, experienced hands and
trainers who’d been here longer than she had. Who hadn’t been prepared for a
female boss they still saw as an interloper even after all this time. She’d
never thought of herself as particularly tough, but she’d had to grow leather
for a skin this past year and it was about to get on her last nerve. Why were
men such assholes, anyway?

“Looks like Stanton’s got a new driver.” Scotty
nodded at the man climbing out of the truck.

Liz glanced at him and nearly did a double take.
Oh
my hot Texas lord.

Walking toward her, with the familiar
loose-hipped gait of a man who spent a lot of time on horseback, was
six-foot-four of broad, well-muscled hunk. The worn jeans and a chambray work
shirt with the sleeves rolled up clung to him like a second skin. As he drew
closer she saw that his tanned face had a square jaw and a straight nose. When
he took off his sunglasses, the hottest blue eyes she’d ever seen seemed to
pierce right through her.

He held out his hand. “Alex Wright.”

“Elizabeth Gillibrand. Liz.”

She was amazed she could get her name out. And
what the hell was that all about? She never reacted to a man like that. Any
man. In fact, it had been so long since she’d been with any man at all, she
thought she might have forgotten what they were all about. Liz couldn’t
remember the last time her hormones had even recognized how sexy a man could
be.

Her situation at the ranch demanded she keep
herself under tight control at all times. Give one little inch and the hands
just waiting for her to fail would run all over her. She didn’t seem to be able
to turn off that need for personal iron discipline in a social situation,
something that was beginning to worry her.

Not to mention the personal history she had no
intention of ever telling anyone about. It really was history and it should
stay there.

So don’t make an idiot of
yourself in front of this man.

She took Alex Wright’s hand, stunned at the
sizzle of electricity that raced into her body. Then he smiled at her and
everything but her panties melted. Holy shit. She yanked her hand back and
wiped it on her jeans. She was suddenly aware of her grimy appearance, of the
way her sweat-dampened top stuck to her breasts and emphasized her nipples.
Damn.

“I guess you’re new over at the Stanton place,”
she babbled.

He grinned and she actually felt heat race
through her.

Stop, stop, stop.

“Actually Loretta Stanton’s my sister. I happened
to be at the ranch and volunteered to make the delivery. Thought it would give
me a chance to see the place I’d heard so much about. Especially since my niece
will be training here.”

“Oh, um, yes. Well. Uh, would you like the nickel
tour?”

“Sure. Just as soon as we get Jester unloaded.”

Jester. The horse. Yes. Tend
to business, Liz.

“I’ll take care of it.” Scotty was right there at
her elbow. “Let’s get the horse out of the trailer, and I’ll show Jester her
new home.”

“Oh. Thanks, Scotty.”

Normally, she would have brushed him aside and
taken over herself, but somehow her wits seemed to have left her and she couldn’t
put two thoughts together. She stepped back while the two men let down the
trailer ramp and Alex walked softly into the trailer to stand beside the horse,
speaking to her soothingly. He and Scotty backed the quarter horse out slowly,
then he snapped a lead onto her halter and Scotty led her into the barn.

“Come on,” Liz said, “I’ll show you the rest of
the place first. By the time we finish, Jester will be settled nice and comfy.”

Liz walked Alex around the corral where one of
the trainers trained a new cutting horse. In the furthest facility some of the
other trainers worked with clients in the big air-conditioned indoor ring while
observers watched from a high glass-enclosed gallery. She explained how they
set up a training schedule and what they looked for in both horse and rider.

Then she led him through the middle barn where
workers were busy grooming horses and measuring out feed. Finally, they were
back in the front barn to the stall Liz had prepared for Jester. The beautiful
quarter horse was munching contentedly on fresh hay.

“You have a great facility here,” Alex commented
as they watched Jester.

“Thanks. I wish I could take credit for it, but
that really goes to John Loughlin. He worked hard to build this.”

Alex’s face sobered. “We were all shocked when he
passed away so suddenly. No one in the community was even aware he had a heart
problem.”

“We weren’t either,” she said. “He was in the
tack room when the attack hit. At least one of the trainers was with him.”

And what a shocking day that had been. Liz didn’t
think she’d ever forget it. Even now it still gave her a sick feeling. That
wonderful man, the most father she’d ever known, gone like the snap of a
finger.

“He obviously had a lot of confidence in you,”
Alex commented. “Leaving this place to you.”

Her defenses slammed into place. “I didn’t ask
for it, if that’s what you’re fishing for.”

“Whoa. Hold on.” Alex’s killer grin kicked into
place and he held up his hands. “I wasn’t implying anything. Word is you do a
hell of a job here. I know Dean and Loretta wouldn’t use you if they didn’t think
you were the best.”

“Sorry.” She let out a breath. “I guess I’m a
little quick on the trigger.”

The smile softened, and his gaze locked onto
hers. “I imagine you get a lot of people who resent what happened.”

“You have no idea.” Especially the people who
work here, she wanted to say. “All I can do is my best.”

When she walked Alex back to the truck he reached
into the cab and pulled out an envelope.

“Jester’s feed information, although Dean said he’d
already discussed it with you.”

She nodded. “We’re all set up for the horse. The
trainer will start working with her tomorrow and in about two weeks we should
be ready for Trish.”

“I told her I’d be coming out to watch her now
and then. I hope that’s all right.”

Coming here? This walking sex machine? She’d need
plenty of ice water just to be within ten feet of him. Or maybe it was just
that she’d been without sex for so long—by design—that her hormones were
running wild. Either way, she’d need to watch herself around Mr.
Sex-on-the-Hoof.

“Of course. We encourage family support, as a
matter of fact.” She waited for him to climb back into the truck, but he just
stood there, that hot gaze raking over her. “Was there something else?”

“Sure is. I was wondering if I could talk you
into having dinner with me.”

Dinner? With a man? With this man? Liz wasn’t
sure she’d even know how to act anymore. For one thing, when she’d taken over
here, she’d put her sex life on hold. She couldn’t afford to have the men here
actually see her as a woman. For another, she didn’t exactly have the best
track record.

“Liz?” Alex’s voice broke into internal
conversation. “I didn’t think it was such a difficult question.” He chuckled, a
sound that hit every one of her nerve endings. “Or that I was so offensive I
left you speechless.”

She shook herself mentally. “Sorry. Actually,
sorry twice. Once for letting my mind drift and again for saying no. But thanks
anyway.”

He reached out a hand and brushed a few stray
hairs off her cheek. “You do have to eat, don’t you?”

Oh, god, his touch. She was going to embarrass
herself by melting into him. She, Liz Gillibrand, the woman they all called
Iron Pants. The woman who held a secret close inside her. No, no, no. She
needed to get Alex Wright on his way in a hurry.

“I…uh…usually just grab a quick bite whenever I’m
finished out here.” She took two steps backward. “Listen, thanks so much for
delivering Jester. I’ll see you when you come to watch Trish.”

“I’m not giving up on my invitation,” Alex called
as he climbed into the truck. “Someplace real nice. You can wear a dress.”

A dress. Just what she needed. No one within
fifty miles of here was ever going to see her soft side again. Nope. Not gonna
happen.

She watched him make a wide, careful turn in the
broad gravel parking area and head down the long driveway to the two-lane
highway. Dinner with Alex Wright was such a temptation. The problem wasn’t with
dating. Dating led to sex, and Liz was sure her brand of sex wouldn’t go over
here at all. She could just see Alex “Yummy” Wright head for the hills if she asked
him to cuff her to the bed or bend her over the footboard and crop her.

No, she had to go far afield for her sexual
pleasures. The last thing she needed was for word to get out to the men who
worked for her that she was a true sexual submissive. She’d never get control
of them again. Not to mention the fact that the Lucky L would probably lose
most of its clients. Conservative people frowned on anything the least bit
kinky. She’d found that out a long time ago, before she’d come to work for
John. And she still remembered the hurt.

And then there was that one part of her past that
had taught her a lesson. A bad one. The inner scars had never really healed,
and she was sure her heart was permanently damaged. Too many opportunities for
disaster if she gave in to her needs. But holy hell, she sure did miss it.

Sighing, she walked back into the barn to Jester’s
stall, leaning her forearms on the door.

“Well, girl, I hope I don’t embarrass either of
us when that sex god shows up to see you go through your paces.”

Yes, she’d really have to watch herself there.
Alex Wright was the biggest temptation to cross her path in a long, long time.