"I was lookin' for you." Roy appeared to slide off the mustang without effort, and his swift hands slapped the straps as he unsaddled.

Buckskin was wet with sweat and foam mixed with rain.

He heaved.

And steam rose from him.
"Must have rode hard," observed Dale.
"I shore did," replied Roy.

Then he espied Helen, who had sat up, with hands to her hair, and eyes staring at him.
"Mornin', miss.