She waited for Rusty to move out of earshot. “What should I call you?”

The question seemed to confound him, and he took a long time to answer. “My name’s Chase,” he said at length. “Call me that.” He studied her. “And I’ll call you Emily.”

Something in the lazy way he said her name, the way he stretched it out as if reluctant to let it go, made her catch her breath. “That sounds so…informal. In Boston, many married couples refer to each other as Mr. and Mrs. At least in public.”

The corner of his mouth quirked upward. “Like I said, we’re much more civilized out here.”

They both looked away just as Rusty walked out of the stables leading a gray-and-white horse by a rope. From a distance, Rusty had looked older—probably because of his slow walk, which had just a touch of swagger. A closer look revealed he was somewhere in his mid to late twenties. The ginger hair beneath his wide-brim hat explained his name.

Chase ran his hand along the horse’s neck. “This here is Daisy. You’ll enjoy ridin’ her.”

Emily kept her distance, her stomach clenched tight. “I…I told you, I don’t ride.”

Chase’s eyes narrowed. “And I told you that your duties would include helpin’ with the cattle. You won’t be much good to me on foot.”

Emily swallowed hard. “But…she’s so…tall.”

His hands stilled on the horse’s neck. “This here pony is only fourteen and a half hands.”

Emily frowned. “Hands?”

“That’s how we measure hosses.” Bending his thumb to his palm and holding his fingers together, Chase showed her the proper way to measure a horse. “Most people workin’ with horses don’t have a tape measure handy, but we all have meat hooks.” He finished by running his hand along the horse’s neck. “Trust me, she’s gentle as a lamb.”

As if to agree, the mare dipped her head and nuzzled Chase’s vest pocket. “Sorry, Daisy. I don’t have any treats for you today.”

“Want me to saddle her up?” Rusty asked.

“Yeah, why not?” Chase said. “While you’re at it, saddle my hoss as well.” He locked her gaze in his. “My bride and I will take a ride.”

“You…you want me to ride?” she gasped.

He dismissed Rusty with a nod before answering. “It’s the only way I can show you the rest of the ranch.”

“I told you I don’t ride.”

“I guess we’ll just have to ride double then.”

“I’m sorry…”

He turned his head to meet her gaze. “You’ll have to ride on my hoss with me.”

The mere thought of sitting in the same saddle as this man brought a flush to Emily’s face, and her nerves tensed. To hide her discomfort, she crossed her arms and lifted her chin. “I don’t ride horseback. Period.”

He turned to face her square on. “Well, ma’am, it’s like this. Either you learn to ride, or you better plan on livin’ like a hermit. What few vehicles the ranch owns are needed for work. I’m not fixin’ to send one of my boys into town to rent a four-wheeler every time you get the notion to giddy-up somewhere.”