This was a well-written and enjoyable story, but I couldn't enjoy it as much as I would have if Shawnee weren't such a witch...and a very dumb and intractable one at that. A love story is so much better when I can find something vaguely attractive about both characters--besides just their breathtakingly beautiful and flawless looks that is. David seriously could have done so much better; I really pitied him, tying his life to that thing. Like it is the Santiago's fault that the Carringtons are lousy ranchers and poor businessmen, as well as jerks. However, since the relationship began as lightning-strike sudden lust at first sight, the author never had to develop the relationship and thus could avoid altogether explaining what in heaven's name David could find even vaguely appealing about the selfish, prickly, spoiled, and immature termagant besides her body. However, even if Shawnee was a drip, she had a lovable horse, and that for me more than compensates for the rotten heroine. The ending was also really weak...when the obvious solution to the problem was forced on them by circumstances, the impossible problem suddenly became just a no biggie and compromises could be worked out no sweat. Huh! seriously! Thus all the angst and drama of the plot was made to seem merely artificial and contrived.