| |
“Is he a keeper?” Zach asked as Jason released the colt he’d named Bill into the corrals. No doubt about it, Bill was the best-looking colt in the bunch, but there were issues.
Jason untied the halter knot and slipped it off the gelding’s nose, then watched the horse trot across the corral to his buddies. “I’m not saying ‘no,’ but I want to put in more time before giving an answer. He has some quirks.”
“Any thoughts yet on the others?”
Jason coiled the rope he held. “I think we should keep the sorrel filly, sell the two bays. The rest...I need more time.” And he was feeling edgy about this conversation, which was nuts because he and Zach did well together.
Zach continued to survey the herd of twelve for a few seconds, then glanced over at Jason. “You’re feeling okay?”
“Better.” He only told half a lie. His wrist was quietly healing in its splint, but ribs took a hell of a long time to heal and until they did, breathing hurt. Sneezing hurt. Laughing hurt. Not that he was laughing all that much of late. It was hard to relax with Meg on the ranch, even if they were merely colleagues. And when she started working with him, which would be soon, it was going to be even harder.
Why the hell had he ever challenged her?
Because he’d been certain she would back down. Do the right thing—just as he’d done two years ago, after he’d gotten the wake-up call in the form of his brother, Adam, suddenly showing up in Sweetheart, wanting to lay low on the Marvell North. Like he’d let that happen. His brother had been dodging his own business colleagues rather than the law, but there was no way that Jason was going to let his past intrude on his new life—or anyone else’s life.
Zach leaned on the fence and Jason thought about asking him about his town meeting. Before he could mouth the words, Zach said, “I assumed that Meg was going to start riding soon?”
“Yes.” It was time. “Maybe she can start doing half-days with Cody, half-days with me.”
“I’ll make it happen,” Zach said. “She’s done a damned fine job with the foals. I think she’ll be a big help to you.”
“I agree.” Logic was a bitch sometimes.
Zach pushed off the fence. “Guess I’d better go see how Len’s doing with that blown seal.” He headed toward the barn, leaving Jason alone with his young herd. Nothing to do but catch the next colt. He opened the gate and approached his third horse of the day—Carl.
He eased the halter over the bay’s head, tied it and started across the corral to the gate, the colt walking respectfully at his shoulder. This one was a sweetheart. Even though Bill was farther along, he’d probably have Meg start Carl first. He knew she was a decent horsewoman, but he couldn’t fully tamp down his protective instincts. He told himself that he’d feel the same if it was Brandon or Cody climbing onboard. Except that if they hit the dirt, it wouldn’t concern him nearly as much as Meg getting dumped would. Because she was a woman? Because she was Meg?
Because he wasn’t over her yet?
It wasn’t helping that Meg wasn’t acting like the Meg he’d known. He had no idea what the hell to expect from her, and he had a feeling that she wasn’t so much changing, as letting loose what had been inside of her all along. The pisser was that he found the new side as intriguing as the old and that wasn’t going to do either of them any good.
After putting Carl through his paces, he released the colt and headed off to his cabin for lunch. He was just passing Brandon’s cabin on the way to his own when the door opened and Meg stepped out directly into his path.
She came to an abrupt stop, a startled look crossing her face as her chin jerked up and she took a step back to allow more space between them.
“I talked to Zach about you riding the colts.” The words came out more abruptly than he intended and Meg’s eyebrows went up.
“And?”
“He says he’ll make it happen. I’m guessing tomorrow or the next day.”
“Today would work for me. All the foals are halter broke and I have the afternoon free.”
“Tomorrow is good, if Zach agrees.” Because he wasn’t ready to start today.
“Sure.”
Jason was about to move on when Brandon opened his cabin door. His chin rose when he saw Jason and then color started climbing up his neck. The kid looked guilty as hell, but about what?
Unless...
No.
Brandon was at least five years younger than Meg and...no.
“Hey, Jase.” He even sounded guilty. What the hell?
“Brandon.” He turned his attention back to Meg, doing his best not to look either suspicious of what was clearly none of his business, or puzzled by the kid’s attitude. “Tomorrow then.”
He nodded at Brandon and headed off to his cabin. He gave one last quick look over his shoulder before opening his door, only to find Meg still standing close to Brandon.
Maybe just a little too close.
Brandon’s neck was growing redder by the moment as he watched Jason go into his cabin and Meg gave him an exasperated look when he shifted his attention back to her. “Stop looking so guilty.”
“I can’t help it.”
She imagined he couldn’t—that he felt like he was wearing a sign that said, “I’m dumb. I can’t read.”
“Why would he think that I’m tutoring you?”
“You’re a teacher.”
She shook her head. “Brandon...” She let out a breath.
“Maybe we can meet somewhere else.”
It was a good sign that he wanted to keep meeting. They’d only worked together four times, but after testing him to discover his strengths and weaknesses, and spending a good twenty minutes on the phone with her friend who taught reading at Sweetheart Elementary, they’d started working on phonics—connecting letters and combinations of letters with sounds. And he was making some headway. Teaching him to read well was going to be a long, slow process, but Meg figured that every day they worked was a day closer to that goal.
“Where?”
He gave her a look that clearly said that he didn’t know.
“Maybe we can meet in the evenings. Here. After dark. We can check to see if people are around before I come and go.”
His expression brightened a little. “Yeah. Maybe that would work.”
Clandestine reading practice. Why not? She gave him a reassuring smile. “Trust me—no one suspects.”
He tried to smile back, but years of self-imposed shame at not being able to read were hard to overcome.
Meg reached up to lightly touch his cheek. “You’re doing really well. Don’t give up, okay?”
“Okay.” He shifted his weight and looked past her toward the barn. “I’d better get back to work.”
“Me, too. See you tomorrow.” When the coast is clear.
Today was the day of Meg’s first rides. Jason was ready. Oh, yes, he was.
Carl was in the round pen, biding his time, wearing only a halter, which was all he would wear during Meg’s ride.
To reduce the strain on his injury, Jason had saddled his colts with his plastic saddle—which was actually made of nylon, and half the weight of a regular ranch saddle, meaning he could maneuver it without killing himself. But Meg wasn’t going to ride in the plastic saddle, so that meant he needed to get Carl used to the real deal.
He pulled the heavy saddle off the fence, where he’d set it a few minutes ago, and hefted it with one hand, checking the weight.
“You’re kidding, right?”
He looked over his shoulder to see Meg approaching. A woman shouldn’t look that good in a man’s clothing, but Meg did. And she seemed unaware.
“A little bit,” he admitted. “I was just testing—”
“To see if you could do it with no help. I get it.” She hooked her thumbs in the back pockets of her worn jeans. “If it didn’t affect the colt, I’d say go for it.”
“I wasn’t going to go for it.” As soon as he’d lifted the saddle, he knew he’d do more harm than good trying to set it on the colt’s back.
“Good.” She let herself in through the gate, latching it behind her. She took the saddle from him, gave it a lift. “Not bad.”
“Lightest leather one I have.” Carl was standing on the opposite side of the pen and Jason crossed over to get him. He snapped on the lead and the colt followed him quietly to where Meg stood, still holding the saddle.
He dropped the lead and Carl stood stock-still. “I’ll get the blanket.”
Together they tacked up the bay colt and then sent him around the pen to get used to the heavier saddle. “This is his third time saddled. He’s so quiet that I don’t think he’ll test you...but you never know.”
“I’ve been tested.”
“By kids or horses?” he asked without looking at her.
“Kids. Horses. Men.”
He quirked one corner of his mouth, kept his eyes on the colt, who was slowing and obviously wanting to stop. Jason sent him around the pen in the opposite direction, then gave him his wish. The colt started chewing as soon as Jason stepped back and then he slowed to a stop.
Jason shot her a sideways look. “Ready?”
She gave a nod and they moved forward together. Meg had a way with horses. Her movements were quiet and exact, her voice soothing as she talked to the bay gelding. She fiddled with the cinch, eased the saddle back and forth, bumped her arm on the horse’s hindquarters.
“Start with a belly mount.” In his way of thinking, it was best to stay low the first few times a colt felt a weight on his back, instead of suddenly appearing above the horse, as a predator would before he landed on a wild horse’s back.
Meg pulled down on the stirrup a few times, then eased her foot into it and in a smooth movement, stepped up and eased herself over the saddle, keeping her head low, putting weight in the stirrup before quietly coming off the way she got on. Jason could only imagine what his ribs would feel like if he’d done that.
Over the next several minutes, Meg mounted and dismounted several times on both sides of the horse, easing higher in the air each time. When Meg could mount and dismount and sit upright in the saddle, they called it a day—for Carl anyway. They’d send him around the pen tomorrow with Meg on his back, but they had five more horses to mount before the afternoon was over.
“Who’s next?” Meg asked as they led Carl back to the corral.
“Daisy.”
“Then?”
“Edna.”
“Followed by Frank?”
“Floyd.”
She shot him a look. “No one names a horse Floyd.”
He simply smiled at her before slipping past the piebald black to catch the bay, who was next in line.
“Why did you start naming at C?” she asked.
“I didn’t. Bill isn’t ready and Albert is sixteen hands high, so I—”
“Decided to see if I could handle myself on a shorter horse?”
“More like I was going to con Cody into being Albert’s first mount, since he’s about eight inches taller than you.”
“And let him steal my thunder?”
“This isn’t about thunder.”
“Yeah? What’s it about?”
He stopped leading the bay. “It’s about playing it safe.”
“Safe is good...within reason.” She spoke with no apparent irony. He didn’t know if it was because she was living outside of her normal bubble of existence or whether working outdoors with her cousin agreed with her, but she was different. More relaxed than she’d been when she first arrived, which again made him think that she wasn’t so much changing as letting out what was inside.
He’d seen glimpses of this Meg on the Marvell North, but whenever she started to break free, she caught herself and eased on back to the cautious side of life...except where he was concerned. Then she’d taken the chance, allowed herself to be carried along by lust and longing. It’d been explosive and she’d gotten burned.
Hopefully she’d learned her lesson there.
Although...here she was. Walking beside him and the bay colt.
She smiled at him them—one of those smiles that had rocked him the first couple of times he’d seen it. Hell, it rocked him now. “I still want to be the one to ride Albert.”
He wasn’t going to engage, mainly because he really wanted to. He wanted to keep up the give and take, banter about thunder and safety, and that was what had gotten him in trouble on the Marvell North. He’d enjoyed his time with Meg before things had gotten physical, and what had started as a friendship between two cautious people had quickly shifted into something much more intense.
There would be no shifting today.
Or tomorrow.
“Same routine as last time,” he said as Meg opened the gate to the round pen. Judging from the way she cocked an eyebrow at him, she’d cued in to the quick change from banter to business and, for a split second, he thought she was going to call him on it, which once again reminded him not to draw lines in the sand where this new Meg was concerned.
Instead she bit the inside of her cheek as she gave him a long look, then her expression relaxed and she nodded.
“I’m ready.”
He hoped she was talking horses.
