Dude Ranch Nights

Chapter 1-3

As Cam strode into the dining room early the next morning, C.J. looked up at him with a smile. Clad in snug fawn jodhpurs and shining, knee-high boots with a crisp white shirt and a rust-colored bolero length jacket, she appeared quite as fetching as she’d been in her sophisticated suit. He’d been out to make sure the chores were underway and to select the stock for the day’s jaunt already. Now it was time for breakfast, although the sun had barely crested Mesilla Rim to the east. A bit surprised to see his guest, he returned her smile.

“You’re up bright and early, C.J. Looking like a model ranch guest, too. I wasn’t expecting you’d be down for an hour or so.”

“I didn’t come to Arizona to sleep,” she said. “Please, will you join me and tell me what we’re going to do today?”

Filling a tall mug with coffee from the urn on the sideboard, he crossed to her table and drew out the second chair.

“There’s some fine scenery on the rim above the ranch. I thought we’d start off easy with a day trip today to let you get acclimated to the altitude. We’re right at a mile high here, which means the dry air is thinner than what you’re used to. You never know, but we could see any kind of wildlife. We’ll be going into an area not reached by any real roads. In many ways, Arizona is wilder now than it was a half century ago. Then there were prospectors, cowboys, and outlaws wandering around. Now there’s next to no one. You might want to bring your lightest camera along…one that won’t weigh you down. That way you can snap quick pictures, even while we’re riding.”

“Oh, that sounds marvelous, but please, don’t plan to pamper me. I told you I’m an experienced outdoorswoman. I came for the whole nine yards. I’m looking for a substitute for riding elephants and hunting tigers and wild boars, you know.” She tossed her hair back as her keen gaze challenged him, bold and direct as any man’s.

This woman is no shrinking violet, but let’s see if we can make her cry enough before we get too far out into the wilds. I don’t want to have to deal with hysteria miles from home. “Darlin’, this won’t be a jaunt in the park, I promise you. You’ll be riding where a misstep by your mount could result in falling five hundred feet into a box canyon, where we could meet a puma, a bear or even a jaguar at any turn of the trail.”

Her green eyes went icy. “Don’t patronize me, Mr. Greenway. I don’t care for silly pet names, and at this point I am not your darling or anyone else’s. I’m sure if I was Mr. VanDemont instead of Miss that you’d be speaking quite differently, so I suggest you treat me like any other client. I’ve paid for an outdoor adventure and that’s exactly what I want.”

Cam smiled as if her tirade left him unmoved. “Let’s be going then. I’d suggest you get a hat if you have one, though. The southwestern sun is brutal and even—ummm—adventurers can get sunburned.” He almost said “adventuresses,” but recalled the negative connotations of the word in the nick of time.

As if she’d caught his shift, she flashed a sharp glance at him, but hurried off upstairs to collect the required item. In moments she was back with an Australian outback-style hat perched on her golden head. She also had a Leica hung around her neck and held a pair of suede gloves that matched her jacket. “I believe I’m ready.”

Cam had given some thought to the mounts they would use. He’d chosen his favorite horse, a big bay gelding called Curly because of the wavy texture of his black mane and forelock. For his guest, he’d selected one of his mules, a sure-footed and steady-tempered mollie named Josie.

He watched C.J.’s expression as they walked up to the two animals, already saddled and hitched to the corral gate. Her glance flickered from the horse to the mule and back.

“What’s with the long-eared beast?”

“That’s Josie. She’s going to be your mount today. Mules are very well adapted for travel in the kind of rugged country we’ll be exploring. You might not be aware of it, but the Grand Canyon guides use them exclusively for taking tourists into the canyon. Contrary to reputation, they aren’t stubborn, vicious, or ill-behaved unless they’re mistreated. Josie’s steady but eager to go. She’ll take care of you no matter what happens, but she can also tell if you don’t know what you’re doing.”

C.J. gave an indignant sniff. She stalked up to the mule’s left side. Holding out her hand, she let the mule sniff her fingers, then stroked the tan muzzle and murmured something Cam could not quite hear. Then she freed the reins and prepared to mount. Josie stood quietly as Cam knew she would, but he could see his guest had been in the saddle before. She swung up with smooth ease and settled into the saddle, shifting a little.

That pert wiggle of her jodhpur-encased butt sent a rush of heat to his groin. To distract himself, he tried to assess her riding style. Probably rides English. A western saddle is a bit more confining. She has the reins in both hands, too. That won’t do.

He stepped up beside her. “Josie neck reins,” he said. “Take both reins in one hand and just touch one rein to her neck when you want her to turn. She’ll move away from that pressure. It doesn’t have to be much.”

She nodded, shifting both reins into her right hand. That wasn’t cowboy style, but he didn’t correct her. So long as she wasn’t sawing on them and pulling the bit in the mule’s mouth, it would be okay. “How’re the stirrups? You want them long enough to stretch your legs out with only a slight bend in the knee, just enough to take a bit of pressure off your seat.”

She rose, standing in both stirrups. With half a hard-on already, he didn’t dare look too closely at her crotch, but he was sure she cleared the saddle, though not by a lot. He walked around Josie to his mount, swung up on Curly, and headed out without looking back.