Wolves Gone Wild(32)

Duncan grabbed hold of the fence, then thrust his body over the top railing, never losing his grip on the bridle he’d slung over his shoulder. He landed on his feet, grace and power rolled into one sexy package. His swagger didn’t speak of cockiness but of a quiet confidence. He was a stallion in the body of a human.

“Duncan’s going to get Star ready for you.”

She bit her lip and tried not to smile. It was kind of a corny name.

“Yeah, I know. The name sounds like a teenage girl named her. But it came from the patch of white fur on her left flank in the ragged shape of a star. It would’ve been nicer to have the star on her forehead, but don’t go telling Mother Nature that.”

Duncan patted the black horse on the neck then slipped the bridle on without any problem. He led her over to Lance and Christy.

“You can trust Star. She’s not skittish and she’ll recognize a novice rider. Just don’t panic if she dances a little. Every horse is bound to have a little get up and go.”

“If you say so. Oh!” She jumped when Lance put a cowboy hat on her head. “What’s this for?”

“Every self-respecting cowgirl needs a hat.” He’d taken it off the fence.

Had he had it there just for her? She tugged it lower. It was a bit big, but that was okay.

“I’ll take Star back inside the barn and get her ready.” Duncan yanked up the bar that held the gate closed, led the horse through, then let Lance shut the gate behind them.

“Come on, babe. You can help me get our horses ready.”

Babe. The sound of it was nice. She could get used to being called babe. “Okay. Although I don’t think I’ll be much help.”

“Just watch and learn. It’s not hard once you get the hang of it.” Lance took her hand, and just as it had so many times before, the sizzle that was becoming more familiar hit her. Familiar, however, didn’t mean that it was any less intense. In fact, it was getting stronger, like every time they touched made the current ratchet up another notch. How intense could it get? Enough to blow a fuse between them? Or enough to set her body ablaze from the inside out?

The smells of the barn, hay mixed with horse manure and other aromas she couldn’t name, assaulted her nostrils as she walked into its cool dimness. Several other horses were in their stalls. They nickered and stomped their feet as Duncan and Star approached them. Duncan brought the horse to a stop, then grabbed a brush and wiped her down, before taking a colorful, coarse blanket and tossing it onto the horse’s back.

“Wait here.”

She hated turning Lance’s hand loose. He strode over to the second stall, his long legs eating up the distance. She couldn’t help but think that he was the epitome of the lanky cowboy of every girl’s fantasy. Giving her a grin, he opened the stall door, went inside, and soon came out leading a paint horse.

“This is Paint.”

She didn’t stop her giggle this time.

“Okay, so we’re not very inventive with names. But the horses don’t seem to mind.” He’d already put a bridle on Paint and was slipping a pad over the horse’s back. “Pay attention. We might expect you to saddle up the next one.”

“Oh, no, you don’t. I’d never forgive myself if you fell off because I tied the saddle wrong.”

“Well, since you called it tying a saddle, then maybe you’re right. Still, pay attention. You never know when it might come in handy in the future.”

She’d never imagined a future where she’d go riding, but it wasn’t a bad idea. Maybe she had a country girl buried deep inside her just dying to come out and lasso a three-pack of handsome cowboys.

He settled the saddle on top of Paint, who didn’t even flinch as it landed on its back. Lance pulled on the strips of leather that held the saddle on, then yanked at others. She didn’t know what the parts were called, but it was obvious that Lance knew what he was doing.

In a short time, he had Paint saddled and ready to ride. He handed the reins to her. “Here.”

“Wait.” She held the rope away from her, her arm outstretched. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“You don’t have to. He does.” Lance moved to another stall.

She gripped the reins and swallowed back a squeak when Paint jerked his head up and down. “Uh-oh. He’s moving.”

Duncan, who had Star saddled, eased past her, leading Star back out into the sunshine. “Of course, he did. He’s not dead, you know.”

“But…” She wanted to take Duncan’s arm and keep him there, but she was too afraid to move. What if she frightened Paint into rising up on his hind legs and kicking out like she’d seen horses in the movies do?