Lance came back out leading a brown horse with a darker brown mane and tail. “Babe, take it easy. Horses can sense when you’re nervous. The calmer you are, the calmer he’ll be.” He started getting that horse ready to ride.
She took a breath and let it out. Drawing in another breath, she lifted her hand, waited to see if Paint would do anything, then timidly reached out and skimmed her fingertips along his broad forehead.
“Hi, Paint. I won’t hurt you, if you won’t hurt me,” she whispered. As if she could ever hurt the large animal.
“He knows that.”
Lance hadn’t been near enough to be able to hear her whisper, so how had he heard her? She was just about to ask him when he led the horse by her. She stood there, unsure if she should try leading Paint out or not.
“Babe, are you coming? Bring him out,” called Lance.
“How?” If she turned around and started walking, would he step on her heels?
“Just walk. You can even drop the reins. He really doesn’t need anyone holding him.”
She had the sneaking suspicion she’d been set up. There was no denying that she was a city slicker. “Okay, Paint. Follow me. But not too closely.”
She let go of the reins and turned around. Walking at a brisk pace, she could hear the horse plodding behind her. Once outside, she stopped then pivoted to find Paint behind her, coming to a stop right along with her. “Good boy.”
“Here you go, babe.” Lance held out his hand as he stood next to Star. “Let me help you into the saddle.”
The newfound confidence was gone. “Are you sure? Maybe I should ride with one of you. Like a bicycle built for two.”
The need that flashed in Lance’s eyes told her that he liked the idea, too. “Sorry, but horses aren’t designed to carry the weight of two people for long. Don’t worry. You can’t get a gentler ride than Star.”
It was now or never. Either she got on the horse or she’d have to go back into town with her tail between her legs. “Okay, just tell me what to do.”
“Take hold of the saddle horn.”
She shot Lance an “are you serious?” look.
“It’s the holder thing on front of the saddle.”
“Oh.” She laid her left hand on top of it. “Now what?”
“Just put your foot in the stirrup. That’s it. Now hop on up.”
She did as he instructed and let him help her. Before she knew it, she was sitting on top of the huge animal. “Wow. It sure is high up here.”
Duncan laughed and swung with ease onto Paint. “You’re going to be fine. When in doubt, just pull back on the reins and push your knees against him to keep you steady.”
“Promise me you won’t make the horses run.” She was worried enough about simply staying on while Star was walking. Running, galloping, or whatever it was called was out of the question.
Lance got on top of the brown horse. “Stick close to us and you’ll sit a good saddle soon enough.” He leaned over and patted his horse’s neck. “Give Star her head and she’ll get between Paint and Buck. Your horse will do most of the work.”
“Why is your horse named Buck?”
“Because he tends to buck a lot.” Lance made a clucking sound and lightly tapped his heels against the horse’s sides.
Her nerves jumped into high gear when Duncan did the same thing. With a snort, Star fell into step in between the other two horses.
* * * *
Christy started off hanging onto the saddle horn as most inexperienced riders did, but within thirty minutes, she was relaxed in the saddle and carrying on an easy conversation. Duncan barely felt the rocking motion of his horse because he was too absorbed in watching Christy.
Yet it wasn’t only her body that kept his attention. It was the happy light in her eyes, the glow on her face that the sunshine hadn’t put there. She was in her element, a natural cowgirl who had finally found her place in the saddle.
“Oh, wow.”
He followed her gaze toward the pond and was surprised at how fast the ride had gone. The pond wasn’t the prettiest pool of water, with its dark, greenish hue and murkiness, but the green trees offering plenty of shade from the heat and the soft grass more than made up for it.
“Do you like it?”
Duncan jerked his head toward Lance, the gravelly tone of his cousin reminding him that he wasn’t the only one being affected by her presence. Lance’s face was tense, yet eager, and his eyes were already showing flecks of amber. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear Lance’s wolf was about to make an appearance.
Problem was, he didn’t know better.