Wyoming Wildfire Read Free Page B

watched spellbound as the muscles rippled and played across his back.
    “Sibyl, you should be ashamed of yourself,” declared her scandalized aunt.
    “What for?”
    “A young lady does not stare at a half-naked man.”
    “Why? He’s not indecent.”
    Augusta didn’t know why, precisely, but she knew she disapproved, and drew her reluctant niece away.
    “If you hitch your horse to the wagon, I think we could pull it out,” Sibyl suggested when the wagon’s contents had been reduced by half. Burch did not answer until he had set a small bureau on the ground, but Sibyl knew she had said something that offended him.
    “My horse is a highly trained cow pony. It would ruin him to hitch him to a wagon.”
    “How much training can it take to carry a man across open country?” she asked in an offhand manner.
    “I realize you can’t help your ignorance, miss, but if you talked less, people might not notice it so much. Now, if you think you can drive those oxen without overturning the wagon, get up in the seat. Ned and I will see if we can break the wheels loose.”
    “If I were a man, I’d teach you not to talk to me like that,” raged Sibyl, hot fury flaming in her cheeks.
    “Now that would be a terrible waste,” Burch said, grinning, his eyes boldly traveling over her with daunting warmth. Sibyl spun on her heel and waded into the now-muddy water. But when she took up the reins, she was careful not to communicate her agitation to the oxen. Burch was amused, but did not bait her further.
    “Bring them up to their yokes, but don’t let them pull until I tell you.”
    I know what to do,” she said sulfurously as he and Ned positioned themselves, one at each front wheel.
    “Pity you didn’t know earlier,” he shot back and was rewarded by the sounds of stifled wrath. But when he gave the signal, Sibyl concentrated on her team. Burch strained at the wheel until Augusta expected to see his muscles burst through the skin, but the wagon wouldn’t budge. Twice more the men employed their combined strength against the muddy grip, but the wheel remained stuck fast.
    “We’ll have to unload the rest” said Ned.
    “Try turning the rear wheels,” Sibyl suggested. “That’s where the weight is.”
    “If he thinks we ought to unload—” began Augusta.
    “I was just about to suggest that,” drawled Burch, forestalling a passionate outburst from Sibyl.
    “If that’s an example of Western honesty, then it’s just as well Wyoming is still a territory,” she said body.
    “Sibyl, please,” begged her embarrassed aunt.
    “No need to worry, Miss Hauxhurst. Cowboy’s hides are as thick as their heads.” Augusta turned away in chagrin, but Sibyl glared at him with brimstone in her eyes.
    “Ready!” Burch shouted, getting a good grip on the rear wheel as Sibyl brought the oxen up to their yokes. “Pull!” The muscles stood out along his back and shoulders as he wrestled with the wheels and the wagon rolled a few inches from the deep rut.
    “I told you so,” exulted Sibyl. “One more ought to do it.” Once again the men and oxen strained at their task and the wagon inched forward. The air rang from Sibyl’s whip and the wagon moved steadily toward the bank. Her delight was tempered only by a fear that the insolent stranger might leave her to reload the wagon by herself.
    “Don’t let them stop,” Burch called out when the oxen found solid footing in the coarse gravel bank. Sibyl simmered with pent-up spleen but kept her attention on her work. The wagon paused when the smaller front wheels encountered the bank, but the oxen lowered their heads and with one bone-wrenching effort lifted the wheels out of the water. The rear wheels rose from the water without hesitation, and Sibyl brought the wagon to a stop next to their scattered paraphernalia.
    Thank you,” Sibyl began with an effort, then stammered to a halt with ‘Burch placed his hands on his hips, looking like a god carved out of amber