“Do I look like a proper rancher’s wife, or don’t I?”

He clamped down on his jaw, and his tight-lipped expression told her just how much he hated their arrangement. Maybe even hated her. He gave her a quick once-over. “You’ll do.”

“Is that all you can say?” Here she was, knocking herself out to play her part, and all he could say was she’d do? “Perhaps you’d prefer that I wore a towel.”

It was a bold, even shocking thing to say, but she was still upset at the way he’d walked in on her last night—or rather how his heated gaze had made her tingle all over. Just as upsetting was the genuine concern he’d shown Cassie Decker. The least he could do was show a little of that same concern for his wife who was, after all, doing him a huge favor.

The hat shading his face hid his eyes, but his already straight back grew even more rigid, and his hands curled at his sides. “What I’d prefer is that you wore better footwear.”

She glanced down at her high-button shoes. “These are the strongest ones I have.”

“Then, like I said, you’ll do.” He whirled around. “You comin’?” he called from the open doorway, making even a simple question sound like an order.

Heaving a sigh, Emily followed. What a strange man he was, seeming to run hot and cold on a whim. How could anyone sound kind and caring one minute and so utterly distant the next?

She ran to catch up to him.

Without comment, he picked up his pace. Swallowing the bitter taste in her mouth, she hurried to keep up with him.

He led the way around the stables to the paddock in back where Daisy stood in the shade of a tree, saddled and waiting. The horse greeted them with a low nicker.

“Hello, girl.” Chase patted the mare on the nose and reached in his pocket for a sugar cube. Palming the treat, he held his hand out flat, and Daisy grabbed the cube with thick velvet lips.

Irritated that Chase showed more humanity to the horse than he did to her, Emily watched him with glaring eyes.

Indicating he wanted her to pet the horse, he stepped aside. “The better you get to know and understand her, the better rider you’ll be.” The eyes meeting hers were dark, remote, letting nothing in and even less out.

Forgetting her irritation with Chase, Emily regarded the horse with reservations. “She…she doesn’t bite, does she?”

He arched an eyebrow. “Who, Daisy? She’s as gentle as a lamb.”

Since there didn’t seem to be any way to refrain from touching the horse without looking foolish, Emily cautiously held out her hand. The horse nuzzled her palm, and Emily jerked her hand back with a gasp.

Sensing Chase’s disapproval, she cleared her throat. “It t-tickled,” she stammered by way of explanation.

“Sudden movements can cause a hoss to bolt or cattle to stampede,” he said.