He pursed his lips. “What about motion?”
“What kind of motion?” She arched an eyebrow. “Because so help me, if you think I’m in the mood for sex right now, I will—”
“No, no, not sex.” He chuckled and waved that suggestion away. “I still feel a bit like crap myself anyway.” Turning serious, he met her gaze. “I was actually thinking we could go on a trail ride.”
Dara slowly released her breath. “You know what? A trail ride sounds like heaven.”
By the time they reached the barn, Dara felt more or less human, and though Matt’s face was shaded by a baseball cap and sunglasses, he looked like he had his normal color back in his cheeks. If not for the fact that he hadn’t shaved, she never would’ve guessed he’d felt even a little bit off.
He parked beside the barn office, and as they got out of the truck, she said, “I haven’t even been on a horse in years.”
“Miss it?”
“Like you wouldn’t believe.”
Matt smiled as they started into the barn. “Oh, I think I can relate.” He took off his hat and glasses. “First time back in the saddle last year, I swear to God, I almost cried.”
“Well, if I do, you know what to do.”
“Blame the hormones?”
“Precisely.”
He touched his forehead in a playful salute. “Now let’s see who I can put you on.” He pursed his lips, gazing down the aisle at all the heads looking over their stall doors. “Oh, I know. I’ll be right back.”
He disappeared down the aisle and came back with a bay gelding. Baxter, according to the engraved brass plate on the halter. Matt clipped the cross ties to his halter and showed her where the brushes were. While Dara brushed Baxter, Matt brought his gray mare out of her stall and tied her in the aisle at the next set of cross ties.
Once both horses were groomed and saddled, Matt and Dara led them outside, Matt pausing to put his hat and sunglasses back on. They both tightened the cinches on their saddles.
“You need any help?” Matt asked.
“Getting on?” She glared playfully at him. “I think I can handle it.”
He chuckled. “Just checking. You said yourself it’s been a while.”
“It hasn’t been that long, thank you very much.” Reins and saddle horn in one hand, she put her foot in the stirrup and hoisted herself up into the saddle. As she eased herself down, she immediately understood why Matt had almost cried. Had it really been that long since she’d ridden? How in the world had that happened? But she was here now, sitting comfortably in a saddle, watching the sun play on Baxter’s shiny black mane, and a million memories flooded her mind. Trail riding with Matt and Beth. Racing between pastures. Competing in the rodeo—she never had been able to beat Beth, but damn that had been fun.
As much as she loved the idea of galloping over the rolling hills, her stomach was still a little off today. As she gathered her reins, she turned to Matt, who’d gotten on his mare. “Would you think less of me if I don’t think I can handle more than just walking this time?”
“Not at all.” He grimaced. “I’d just as soon keep it slow and steady today myself.”
“Fine by me. Does this mean we’re old?”
“Probably. Oh well.”
They both chuckled and headed away from the barn. Two or three weeks ago, the motion of Baxter’s gait would’ve had her heaving into the dust. Especially after the way her day had started. Her stomach was behaving now, though, and the gentle sway was wonderful.
There’d been a time when she’d known these trails like the back of her hand. She’d ride over from her house, and after practicing barrel racing and pole bending and all the other myriad events she’d enjoyed, they’d kill an afternoon riding around back here while their horses cooled down.
Some of the trails were different now. A few of the pastures had been rebuilt, rerouting some of the paths, and the overgrown trails in the woods had been cleared. Like everything in Aspen Mill, it was different and the same all at once. Like coming home.
She turned her head to ask Matt if he still rode back here as often as he had back then, but the words didn’t come. Something about the way the sun was hitting his face, picking out his cheekbones and the shape of his lips, not to mention the stubble still darkening his jaw, took her breath away. A few flecks of gray sparkled in the light, both on his jaw and on the side of his head. Time had chiseled away some of the boyish roundness in his face and added some subtle lines, and now that she really checked him out, he had looking good down to an art form. Even with the sunglasses hiding his eyes, he was stunning.