Also, a rider who doesn’t have his head up his ass.

Biting her tongue through that last part was a personal victory.

“Why is it you think you know better than I do?”

“You’re a rodeo cowboy,” she said slowly. “What you do is a specific thing. Your type... I know all about your type.”

Gabe snorted, pulling his hat off his head and running his hand through his dark hair. “Really?”

“I was raised in a house with cowboys. Believe me. I’ve had enough exposure to make me immune to your charm, and also give me enough insight to know that a lot of times you’re leading with your ego.”

“You don’t think I could possibly just have a different take than you on what Gus needs?”

Her patience frayed, then snapped. “If so, it’s the wrong take.”

“Little girl,” he said, his eyes going hard, his mouth firm. “I hired you to work for me. I hired you to assist me. I didn’t hire you to tell me what to do.”

She didn’t apologize, because she knew Wyatt wouldn’t have. Because she knew it was how he would have talked to someone in this situation. Straight up.

Wyatt wouldn’t have ignored being called little girl. But Jamie figured since he was her boss, she’d let it go. “You’ve taken on a lot here.”

“You don’t need to tell me what I already know. But between the horses I had already agreed to take in that were retired from the rodeo, and the horses that came from that farm Bea told me about, I didn’t have much choice. I wasn’t going to turn them down. They didn’t have another place to go.”

“And that’s real sad, but we have to make sure we can do good by the horses, too. I understand that your goal is to make it so they can go to families. Less experienced riders who need gentle mounts. But we are going to have to make gentle mounts out of them.”

“Yes,” he said dryly. “I am aware of my goals. And that is why I hired you.”

“I’m the best you’re gonna find,” she said confidently.

She didn’t have any trouble claiming her expertise. That was the thing. If horsemanship was only about training, then she supposed people could assume that at twenty-five she didn’t have the necessary experience to back up her confidence. But it wasn’t about age or experience, not alone. So much of it was about instinct and a connection to the animal. About having a good sense for how to work with each individual horse.

Her experience had come from barrel racing, from years working the family dude ranch, where she had managed finding and training new horses for experienced and inexperienced riders alike.

From where she was standing, it looked to her like Gabe Dalton only knew how to do one thing. He knew how to ride bucking broncos. Hard and fast. She didn’t think he knew how to sense the different personalities of the animals he was working with. Not intuitively.