Holt Men of Clifton, Montana Book 12

by Susan Fisher-Davis

  “Relax,” he said.

  “How did you know?”

  “I can feel your hand shaking. I promise you I will not put you on a horse that isn’t gentle. Skittles is a big baby.” He stopped in front of a stall. “Here she is.”

  Sloane gasped. “She’s gorgeous.”

  “Yes, she is, and spoiled rotten.” He looked in at the dark chestnut horse.

  “I love her black mane and tail with that red coat.”

  “She’s very gentle. Let me get her saddled for you. Then I’ll help you get on and adjust the stirrups.”

  “All right,” she said, then worried her bottom lip.

  He cupped her face in his gloved hands. “It’ll be fine. I promise.”

  “All right.”

  He left her standing there at the stall then he entered the tack room where he grabbed two blankets, bridles, reins, and cinches then strode back to her. He grinned when he saw her rubbing Skittles' nose and talking to her. As he watched, Skittles butted her big head against Sloane’s chest, almost knocking her down. Her laughter made him chuckle. He hung the blankets on the rails along with the tack then turned to walk back to the room to get the saddles.

  “Can I help?”

  “I’ll get them. Saddles are heavy.”

  “I’m not some delicate flower, Holt.”

  He glanced over his shoulder at her.

  “I know that, but a ranch saddle can weigh between forty to sixty pounds. I don’t have any less than forty pounds, but if you want to try then come on.” He smiled when he heard her coming behind him.

  He entered the room and glanced around for a suitable saddle for her. Most of his were made for riding all day, so she should be comfortable in it. He walked to where one of the darker leather ones sat. He picked it up, turned to look at her, and raised his eyebrow. He knew this saddle was one of the lighter ones at forty pounds.

  “Why does a ranch saddle weigh so much?” she asked him.

  “Mostly for endurance. Ranch saddles distribute the weight over a larger area of the horse’s back due to their build. If taken care of, a saddle can last a lifetime. I only have Conway saddles. Noah makes the best ones around.”

  “Handmade?”

  “Yep. He’s the best there is.”

  He watched as Sloane ran her hand over the dark leather with the scroll design on the fender straps.

  “How does he do this?”

  “He’s just damn good at what he does. It takes him about three months to make one. Sometimes longer if someone wants it fancier.”

  She walked around the back of the saddle and smiled.

  “This has your name on a gold plate.”

  “Yeah, Noah will do that if a customer wants it. Some people just have their name stitched on the fender strap while others want the plate on the cantle.”

  “Fender strap. Cantle. You’re losing me,” she said with a laugh.

  “Well, seeing as the plate is where you see it, that’s the cantle. This—” He lifted the strap the stirrup was on. “Is the fender strap.”

  “Where the stirrup is. Why didn’t you just say that?”

  Holt shook his head. “I’m a cowboy, darlin’. I call a saddle by its parts. Come on, let’s get you on Skittles then I’ll saddle Nitro for me.”

  “Nitro?”

  “Yep. He was always running when he was a colt like he exploded from dynamite.” He shrugged. “Another name that fit.”

  “Let me see if I can lift this thing.” She tried to lift the saddle but struggled a little then finally got a hold of it. She grinned up at him.

  “Good. Let me get mine then we’ll get the horses ready and take a ride.” He picked up his saddle.

  “Sounds good, then maybe I’ll ride you when we get back.”

  He groaned. “How about we skip this, and you do that now?”

  “Nope. I want to go horseback riding.” She walked out of the tack room, and he followed her and watched as she had to stop several times to shift the saddle in her arms before she dropped it.

  “Sloane, if you want to put that down—” He stopped and tilted his head down to hide a grin when she turned and narrowed her eyes at him. When he raised his head again, she was almost to the stall.

  “I think Skittles is so beautiful. I just hope she’s a good girl.” Sloane lifted the saddle and put it on the rail and he did the same with his then entered the stall.

  He ran his hand over the horse’s back. “She is, aren’t you, girl?”

  After he tossed the blanket on the horse’s back, he placed the saddle on top of it. He put the bridle over Skittles’ head, attached the reins, then fastened the cinch and tightened it.

  “Let me get Nitro. Then I’ll help you get on the horse.” He walked down the aisle then stopped at Nitro’s stall and looked in.

  “Hey, boy. You want to go for a ride?”

  He grinned when the horse started prancing around. He opened the gate, entered the stall, hooked a lead to the halter then led him out to where Sloane stood. He heard her gasp when she saw Nitro. He couldn’t blame her. The horse was damn impressive with his red coat and blonde mane and tail.

  “He is gorgeous,” she said.

  “Yes, he is.”

  “He looks taller than Skittles.”

  “He is. He’s one of the taller Morgans at seventeen hands.” He turned to look at Sloane. “Ready?”

  “No.”

  “We don’t have to do this. I just thought you’d enjoy it.” He pulled her to him and kissed her forehead. “I would never force you to do anything that made you uncomfortable.”

  “I do want to do it. I’m just a bit scared. That looks like a long way up.”

  “Skittles is only fifteen hands.”

  “I have no idea what that means.”

  Holt chuckled. “She’s fifty-six inches tall at the withers.”

  “Withers? Stop saying words that I don’t know what they mean.”

  “At the base of her neck to the ground is how a horse is measured.”

  She blew out a breath. “Okay. But it still looks high up there.”

  “Come here. Put your foot in the stirrup…you know what that is, right?”

  “Don’t be a smartass, James.”

  He grinned. “Yes, ma’am. Come on. Foot in the stirrup, grab the saddle horn and cantle then pull yourself up into the saddle.”

  “All right.” She did as he told her and once in the saddle, she looked like she was going to throw up.

  “Maybe we should forget about this.”

  “No, I want to do it.”

  “Okay, let me adjust these for you. Skittles knows commands by your knees. Touch her with your right knee, while pulling the reins to the right, she’ll turn that way, same on the left. Use both knees to get her to go forward. But do it gently. If you nudge her hard, she’ll run.”

  “Oh, Lord,” she muttered and looked pale.

  “Darlin’, you’ll be fine. Trust me.”

  Sloane swallowed hard and nodded. “I do.”

  He nodded. “Good.”

  After adjusting one side, he strode around to the other side and adjusted that stirrup.

  “Take the reins in your hand, and just relax.”

  “Easy for you to say. Shouldn’t I hold them with both hands?”

  “You can since you’re inexperienced, but most experienced riders only use one hand.” Holt patted her leg. “Just stay right here while I get Nitro saddled.”

  ****

  Sloane watched Holt throw the blanket on the horse then the saddle. The horse was just gorgeous. She watched Holt remove the halter, that much she knew, and then placed another one over the horse’s head.

  “Why did you change that one?” She nodded to the one in his hand.

  “I switched it to a bridle. He was wearing a halter.” He frowned at her, making her wonder if he was getting annoyed with all of her questions.

  “What’s the difference?”

  “A halter is to lead the horse from the
ground. The bridle is for riding.”

  “I see.” She didn’t, but he didn’t need to know that.

  She hoped she could do this. When Skittles shifted under her, she felt a bit of panic. She watched as Holt vaulted into the saddle. She would never be able to do that.

  “Relax, Sloane.”

  “I’m trying, damn it. The only horse I’ve ever been on was the ponies at the fairgrounds when I was a little girl, and I don’t think that counts.”

  Holt laughed. “So, you are experienced.”

  “You, Holton James, are a real smartass.”

  “I knew I shouldn’t have told you my full name. Now I’ll know when I’m in trouble.”

  “Then you’ll just have to make it up to me later,” she said with a weak smile, suddenly feeling unsure about saying she wanted to ride.

  “Well, that gives me an excuse to get into trouble, doesn’t it?”

  If she survived this, she would make sure he rewarded her later.

  “How did you train them to know commands by your knees?”

  “I didn’t train them. Trick Dillon did. He’s the best horse trainer around. I just raise the breed. Trick takes them after we break them, then trains them.”

  “Well, he must be good then. Do you break them yourself?”

  “No, I used to, but I’m too old for that shit now. I have some young guys working for me who love it. I can’t imagine how it would feel to hit that ground now.”

  “Not very good, I’m sure.” Falling off and hitting the ground was not something she wanted to experience but it was a real possibility.

  “Yes, ma’am. Let’s go. I’m right here. Just nudge her a little.”

  Sloane took a deep breath, gently kneed Skittles with both knees and the horse started walking down through the barn. She was so proud of herself. She smiled at Holt, who returned it.

  “See? Nothing to it. You’ll be an excellent rider in no time.”

  “Am I going to be sore?”

  “You might, but we won’t stay out long. Riding moves more muscles than people realize. Don’t worry. I have some salve I can put on you.” He grinned.

  “You sound like you’ll enjoy that,” she said with a frown.

  “Damn straight, I will.”

  Laughing, even as she trembled with nerves, Sloane walked the horse out of the barn and into the cold air, but she didn’t care. She was starting to enjoy herself. This might be fun after all. She glanced over to Holt to see him sitting on that horse as if he’d been born to ride.

  “How long have you been riding?”

  “Since I was in diapers, I suppose. My parents used to love to ride, but they don’t anymore. My grandfather practically lived in the saddle. He’s the one who taught me.”

  “Have you ever been thrown?”

  “Too many times to count. When it happens, you just have to get back on. Let the horse know who’s the boss.”

  “It looks like it’s a long way down,” she said as she glanced to the ground.

  “If you haven’t been thrown, you haven’t ridden.”

  “Oh, really? Well, I hope I never get thrown. It has to hurt hitting that ground.”

  “It’s not pleasant, that’s for sure. Especially on a horse that you’re trying to break.”

  “How does anyone want to do that?”

  “Has to be done, darlin’. People aren’t going to buy a horse that isn’t broken.”

  “I suppose. Do you sell a lot of them?”

  “Yes. I’m glad people still love to buy horses.”

  “These saddles are just beautiful,” she said, caressing the leather.

  “Noah’s craftsmanship is second to none.”

  “Are they expensive?”

  “A good handmade saddle can cost up to four thousand dollars.” Holt grinned when she gasped.

  “Unreal. I’m in the wrong business,” she said with a laugh.

  “Hell, me too. My horses aren’t cheap, but one of Noah’s real fancy saddles sell for more than my horses do.”

  “Preston bought Deidra a beautiful one. I know Reece bought Rissa one too, but I haven’t seen that one. I happened to be visiting Deidra and she took me to the barn to show me the horse and saddle Preston bought for her. Both were gorgeous.”

  “Reece bought Rissa’s horse from me.”

  “Really? Well, I’ll have to visit her to see it because from what I’ve seen of your horses, Holt, they’re beautiful.”

  “Morgans are great horses.”

  They continued riding through the snow and she noticed that the higher they rode, the colder the air seemed to get. She supposed the closer they got to those majestic mountains, the more frigid the air. Her teeth began to chatter.

  “Ready to head back?” Holt asked from beside her.

  “Yes. I’m so cold.”

  “I’ll warm you up when we get back.”

  “Can’t wait. Maybe I’ll return the favor.” Sloane laughed when he groaned.

  “I’ll let you,” he said with a grin.

  ****

  Monday morning was cold, but no snow was in the forecast. Sloane smiled as she headed back to the kitchen of the bakery. She couldn’t keep the smile off her face as she thought of the wonderful weekend she’d spent with Holt. The only problem had been how sore she was when she woke up this morning. Places hurt she didn’t know existed.

  Holt had been great to apply the salve, but because they both got so turned on by him rubbing it on her, they’d had a quickie, and the salve ended up all over the sheets. When he offered to put more on, she told him she’d take care of it, or she’d never get any on. She wondered if it was possible to fall in love with someone over two days.

  She heard the chime the door made when someone entered then heard one of the girls who worked for her call out that she was here. Katherine worked the front counter along with JoJo. Both women were in their early twenties but worked their asses off. Sloane wondered how they handled it every day, but they did great.

  As she pulled a mixing bowl from the cupboard, she began to make little loaves of pound cakes. She’d experienced last week with them to see how they did, and she sold out within an hour.

  “Good morning, Sloane,” Nancy said as she entered the kitchen.

  “Hi, Nance. How was your weekend?”

  “Too short, but good.” Nancy removed her hat, gloves, and coat, hung them up, then pulled an apron on over her head. “How was yours?”

  “Wonderful. I went horseback riding for the first time. I was terrified but once I got over my panic, I loved it.”

  “And just who did you go horseback riding with?”

  “Holt,” she said with a sigh, making Nancy laugh.

  “No better teacher,” Nancy said with a wink.

  “I can’t wait to go again.” She continued working on the pound cakes when Courtney entered the kitchen.

  “Good morning, everyone,” Courtney said as she removed her coat, hung it up then pulled on an apron.

  “Hey, Courtney, how was your weekend?” Sloane asked.

  “Boring. I swear, I need a man,” she said making Sloane and Nancy laugh.

  “They do come in handy for some things,” Nancy said then they all got to work.

  As the day wore on, Sloane got a lot of baking done and a good many customers came in. It seemed they loved having the bakery open again. She was in the kitchen baking muffins when she heard a ruckus out front. Taking off her oven mitts, she tossed them onto the table and entered the front of the store.

  “What’s going on?” she asked JoJo.

  “People who didn’t take a number are jumping ahead in line.” JoJo pointed at the customers.

  “We have a ticket dispenser for this reason,” Sloane said to the crowd.

  “I ain’t takin’ no ticket. I just want a blueberry muffin,” an older man said.

  “Then take a ticket,” she reiterated.

  “No.”

  Sloane smiled at the crowd of people. “Whoever is next, pleas
e come up to the counter to place your order.”

  When no one moved, Sloane wasn’t sure what to do. They all looked at each other, her, and the man. He stood there glaring at her. Should she just give him his muffin? No. She would not.

  “Please, who has…” She looked at the numbers. “Number ten?”

  “I do,” a woman said holding up a ticket as she stepped forward but kept her eye on the man.

  “Great, what can I get you?” The crowd suddenly got louder, so Sloane put her fingers to her lips and let out a shrill whistle. Everyone stopped talking for a few seconds then started again. She looked at the woman and waved her forward, but the man stepped in front of her.

  “All I want is a damn blueberry muffin,” he snapped. “I ain’t taking no ticket for that.”

  Sloane leaned close to JoJo. “Call the police or sheriff’s department. I will not put up with this.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Sloane watched as the crowd got a little more disruptive and the older man kept stepping in front of people. She wasn’t sure what to do about him. There was no way she was letting him in front of those who had a ticket. He stopped in front of the counter where she stood and narrowed his eyes at her.

  “Why do I need a ticket for one damn muffin?”

  “Because everyone takes a ticket, or they don’t get waited on.” Sloane looked at the woman who was next. “What can I get you?” she repeated.

  The woman was about to answer when the front door opened, and a man in a sheepskin coat wearing a khaki shirt under it with a badge pinned to it entered then glanced around. Sloane saw his jaw clench when he saw the man.

  “What’s the problem here?” the sheriff asked as he looked at her.

  “People aren’t taking a number, Sheriff,” Sloane said. “It’s the only way I can keep up with who orders what.”

  “Please take a number,” the sheriff said as he glanced around at the people.

  “I ain’t got time.” The man glared at him.

  Sloane watched as the sheriff stepped forward and the older man backed up a step, making the sheriff smirk.

  “If you don’t have time, then leave. Now.” The sheriff glared down at the shorter man.

  “I’ll be back,” the man said as he moved past him but when the sheriff wrapped his hand around his arm, he looked up at him.