Stepping back into the sunshine, he set the saddle on the railing and looped the bridle over the eye bolt attached to one of the posts.
She looked the tack over. “Maybe I can do it myself, after all. But you should probably supervise.”
She was giving him permission to watch her every move? He wasn’t about to pass that up. “Okay.” He stood with arms folded and did his best to pay attention to what she was doing and not how adorable she looked doing it. Thankfully he didn’t have to say a word as she saddled Clifford with the efficiency of a seasoned hand.
She stood back with a smile of satisfaction. “Guess I’m not as rusty as I thought.”
“Not rusty at all.”
“Is this Pete’s saddle?”
“Yes, but technically it’s Clifford’s saddle. Dad taught us that the saddle should fit the horse first and the rider second. You may find this one a little roomy.”
“No worries. I’ll adjust the stirrups.”
“Need help?”
“Thanks, but I have a pretty good eye.”
Among other things. After observing her in this setting, he didn’t doubt she could handle the adjustments. “Then I’ll leave you to it while I tack up Fudge.” He couldn’t risk her catching him staring. By the time he finished, she’d exchanged Clifford’s halter for a bridle and mounted up.
He grinned at her. “Looks like somebody’s ready to ride.”
“You’d better believe it. If I were any more excited, I’d burst into flames like baked Alaska.”
He ducked his head and pretended to adjust the girth on Fudge’s saddle. He didn’t want her to see his reaction to that particular comment. “Then let’s do this thing.” He glanced up at the sky where the clouds had mostly blocked the sun. “Those clouds are coming in a little early. The rain’s not predicted until later in the day.”
“I was watching them, too.”
He looked at her. “Will it be a problem if it starts falling before we make it back?”
“Not for me. I won’t melt.”
“Then let’s head out.” He swung into the saddle and touched his heels to Fudge’s smooth flanks. “Come on up beside me. We can ride abreast until we get to the highway.” Which was an added treat for him.
“Thank you for bringing me out here.” She urged Clifford forward with a soft click of her tongue. “I hadn’t realized how much I miss being around horses.”
“Have you ever had one of your own?”
“No. My mom and I didn’t live in an area where you could keep a horse on the property and she was dead-set against the idea of me boarding one.”
“That’s a bummer.” No mention of a dad. He tucked that information away for future consideration.
“It was at the time, but in hindsight, it would have been a disaster. I would have had to finance it all on my own, including boarding, buying tack, vet bills…it was more than I could have handled, no matter how many jobs I got after school.”
“And if you’d taken extra jobs to pay for the horse, you wouldn’t have had time to ride.”
“That was always the catch. Briefly I thought of working on a ranch to get my horse fix, but that didn’t feel like what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. I think I’ve always known my career would involve food.”
“You followed your bliss.”
“Yes, I did.” At the same moment that she turned to him and smiled, the sun broke through the clouds, surrounding her with golden light.
He pulled his horse to a stop and sat very still, unable to tear his gaze away. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
Ingrid pulled Clifford to a stop, too. She looked over at him, clearly puzzled. “Wes? Is something wrong?”
No. Everything’s perfect. But if he told her she’d dazzled him with her beauty, he’d scare her away. “No.” He paused to clear his throat to buy some time. What could he say that wouldn’t be an out-and-out lie? “I was just thinking about…” He couldn’t come up with a single thing.
“Your clients?”
Yes! Perfect. But a lie if he agreed. He gave a non-committal shrug.
"Darn it, I was afraid you’d have trouble putting it out of your mind.”
“Force of habit. Won’t happen again.” Although he’d be picturing her caught in the glow of the sunlight for days, months…maybe even years to come.
“It’s honorable that you care so much, Wes. But you don’t want to be consumed by your job.”
“You’re right. That would be tragic.” And he needed to get her off this topic before he dug himself into a hole. “How about planning to ride with me again next Sunday morning? It’ll force me to focus on something other than work.” Like you.
Something flickered in her gaze. “I’d like that.”
“Good. Me, too.” And he’d like it even more if she kept looking at him that way.
Chapter Ten
If Wes had been distracted by his work before, he certainly wasn’t now. He was focusing one hundred percent of his attention on her. And warming her from the inside out.
He’d looked amazing wearing only a towel, but he looked damn good on his horse, too. The two visuals were competing for dominance in her brain. Unfortunately, she shouldn’t be considering either one, not if she was determined to maintain her distance.
Only friends, only friends, only friends. It would be her mantra. She nudged Clifford back into a walk. “Did you get a chance to eat breakfast before you left your apartment this morning?”
He walked Fudge beside her. “No. It turns out I’d rather sleep than eat. Besides, the bakery was closed.”
“You could have stocked food in your apartment.”
He grinned. “I could, but where’s the fun in that?”
She smiled back. “I shouldn’t say this, considering my profession, but a regular diet of coffee and pastries for breakfast isn’t particularly healthy.”
“It’s an improvement from my college days. I didn’t live above a bakery, then. Breakfast, even coffee and a pastry, hardly ever happened.”
She made a tsking noise. “With the long hours you put in, you need food, After this ride, how about we get lunch?” And she was only asking because she was concerned for his welfare. Really.
“You’re on.”
She glanced at his friendly, relaxed smile, and her stomach did a flip. Not a good sign. “What sort of instructions did you get from Kendra about our ride trajectory?”
“We’re supposed to go past the barn, through the pasture and out the gate on the far side. If we take the path to the right, we won’t run into her trail riders.”
“Good deal.” She glanced around. “The last time I was on this road, Abigail and I were delivering Faith and Cody’s wedding cake to the ranch house.”
“And my dad was on his way to Eagles Nest to announce his intentions to Kendra.”
“He showed up without an invitation. Epic move.”
“That’s my dad. King of the epic moves.”
“You’re no slouch in that department, carrying me over the finish line.” She’d replayed that scene several times. Okay, maybe a dozen.
“It seemed like the thing to do.” The breeze picked up and he tugged on the brim of his hat. “That race was a blast. The tug of war was, too.”
“I like the tug of war, but I like the race better.”
“Yeah, me, too. It’s harder than it looks.”
“That’s what catches people up. They think how hard can it be?”
“Guilty. But I’ll be better prepared next year. I miss being involved in physical competition. In college we played flag football when the weather was warm enough.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“It was. I wonder if I could talk some of the guys into playing a game now and then, maybe midweek, early evening. Depending on the weather, we could probably play into October.”
“What about coed?”
“Sure, why not?” He looked over at her. “Would you do it?”
&n
bsp; If he was playing? “Absolutely. My job mostly involves standing so I could use the exercise. I don’t know much about football, but—”
“I do. You’d pick it up in no time. Pete would go for it. I’ll bet some of the McGavin brothers would, too. My dad and Kendra might even want in.”
She grinned. “They already have the right shoes.”
“Yeah, they do. That might be a trick, getting the other guys into gym shoes.”
“Maybe not, now that Quinn and Kendra won the three-legged race. I can see Rox wanting to play, too.”
“Yeah, she would. Good call. I’m liking this idea. Coed would make it more fun. Thanks for suggesting it.” He gazed at her. “And thanks for coming with me today.”
“Thanks for inviting me.”
Moments later, the ranch house came into view. Kendra waved to them from the porch and Wes turned Fudge in that direction. “Let’s go say hello before we head out.”
“Definitely.”
Kendra came down the porch steps and out to the end of the walk to greet them. She glanced up at Ingrid. “You look right at home on Clifford.”
“We’re getting along great.”
“How did I not know that you liked to ride? I would have asked you out here if I’d realized that.”
“I just didn’t think about it, I guess. I haven’t ridden since I left home. Got out of the habit.” Mark had never shown an interest, so she’d kind of forgotten about it.
“Well, anytime you have the urge, I’d be glad to trade you a ride for a dozen brownies.”
“Thanks. I’ll remember that.”
“I’m hoping she’ll make these Sunday rides with me a regular thing,” Wes said.
“That would be nice.” Kendra smiled, but her expression underwent a subtle change as she looked between the two of them.
Uh-oh. Leave it to Kendra to pick up on emotional undercurrents. And here Ingrid thought she’d been hiding her reactions to Wes so well. She did her best to sound nonchalant. “I’ll have to see how it goes. Sometimes Abigail needs me to bake with her on Sundays.”
Kendra nodded. “That I know. Luke has to work around those emergency pie-baking sessions when he wants to ride with Abigail.” She turned to Wes. “And speaking of pies, did you see all the comments on that picture of you smeared with cherry juice?”
“I did. Who knew folks preferred an undignified vet?”
“I could have told you that. I’m partial to that quality, myself. Anyway, I’m glad you found time to fit in a ride today.”
“Me, too. The celebration on the Fourth reminded me how much I miss being on the back of a horse.”
“And playing football,” Ingrid said. “On the way over we talked about setting up some coed flag football games. Do you think anyone would be interested?”
“You know, they might. Ryker and Zane both played in high school. I can see April and Mandy going for it.”
“What about you and Quinn?”
She blinked. “Are you thinking multigenerational, then?”
“Hey, you guys won the three-legged race. You can hang. That goes for the Whine and Cheese ladies, too. I say we throw it open to everybody.”
“Sounds like fun. Want me to pass the word, see what response I get?”
“That would be awesome.”
“I’ll do that, then.” She looked up at the sky. “If you two want to fit in your ride before the rain starts, you’d better take off.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Wes touched the brim of his hat. “Thanks for letting us use your property.”
“Anytime.” She glanced at Ingrid. “I’ll let you know about the flag football.”
“Excellent.”
“And like I said, bribe me with brownies and you can come out and ride anytime.”
“You’ve got a deal.”
* * *
Riding was good for so many things and Wes enjoyed all of them. Taking a horse down a trail on a solo trip gave him an excellent view of his surroundings and immersed him in the natural world he loved. Riding hell-bent-for-leather across an open field sent adrenaline pounding through his veins, pushing out any negative emotions and amplifying the positive ones.
But sharing the trail with another rider, in this case Ingrid, was his favorite time in the saddle. Trail riding invited good conversation. This was the perfect opportunity to get to know her better.
The cloud cover gave a softness to the landscape as they moseyed along side-by-side, accompanied by the clop of hooves, the creak of leather and the twitter of birds.
They’d discussed more details of the flag football project and he was tickled at how excited she was about it. “Did you play any sports in school?”
“Not really. We didn’t have much money and taking up a sport requires at least some expense.”
“True.”
“I was way more interested in saving up for cake decorating lessons. One of the local ladies held classes in her home. I was always the youngest person there.”
“And the most talented, I’ll bet.”
“Not at first. But I caught on fast.”
“Where was that?”
“Miles City, about three and a half hours east of here. Ever been there?”
“No, ma’am, but then there’s a lot of Montana I haven’t seen. You mentioned your mom before. Is she...” He left the sentence dangling so she could fill in the blank.
“Still there. She doesn’t get why I have all these dreams and schemes and I don’t get why she’s content to work a boring job forever. She says I inherited my ambition from my dad. He died in the service when I was a baby.”
“That’s too bad.”
“It is. I think I would have liked him.” She gave him a sideways glance. “Do you remember your mom at all?”
“I have some fuzzy memories. Dad says Roxanne is the spitting image of her, so now when I think of my mom, I’m probably picturing my sister.”
“I can’t imagine what that must have been like for your dad, being left with four young kids.”
“I’m sure it was rough. I don’t remember much about that time. I was barely four and Roxanne was three. Pete was eight and Gage was six. I’m sure they were more aware of how Dad was taking it than I was.”
“And what about Gage? I never hear about him.”
“Because he’s a mystery. Probably to himself, too. He stays on the move.” He glanced ahead of them. “Speaking of moving, will you look at that? We’ve come to a big, wide meadow filled with wildflowers. Ready to canter across it?”
“Sure am.”
“Then let’s go.” He gave a whoop and loosened the reins. Fudge took off.
Clifford did, too. The two horses behaved like a drill team, matching stride for stride. Wes glanced over at Ingrid. Cheeks flushed and smile wide, she radiated joy as she moved effortlessly with the horse.
He was riding through paradise with an angel. Life didn’t get much better than this.
Chapter Eleven
The clouds opened up as they crossed the paved road on the way back. Big, fat drops hit the brim of Ingrid’s cap and she glanced over at Wes. “What do you want to do?”
He looked up at the clouds. “We could make a run for it, but we’ll probably still get wet. Like I said, I don’t mind a little rain.”
“Me, either.”
“Then let’s just take it easy going back and accept the fact we’ll get drenched.”
“Works for me.”
She was soaked to the skin by the time they rode past the house. The yellow bandana was still on the doorknob so Quinn must not have left his studio, yet. He might even find the patter of the rain inspiring.
Wes opened the barn doors and let her go first with Clifford. After he came in he tossed her several towels. She used the corner of one to wipe her face but couldn’t see the point in drying the rest of her since she’d just get wet on the way back to the truck.
The tack got the benefit of the towels first. Wes came to fetch the saddle, bridle and damp
saddle blanket while she used a sweat scraper to whisk the rainwater off Clifford’s rump and neck. She grabbed one of the towels to wipe down his face, giving him a kiss on the muzzle when she finished. “Thanks for a great ride.”
“Looking good.”
She turned to find Wes standing in the doorway of the stall watching her. “Thanks.”
He’d taken off his hat and he must have used a towel on his hair because it was going every which way.
The rain had soaked right through her hat, but she’d left it on to hold her ponytail in place. She’d wrung out her hair to keep it from dripping water down her back.
“That should do it.” She gave Clifford one last swipe on his dark red coat before walking out of the stall and depositing the scraper in the grooming tote.
Wes closed the stall door behind her while she dumped the towel in a large bin with the others. She couldn’t help smiling when she glanced at him. “Your hair’s a hot mess.” Much like it had looked when he’d come out of her apartment Thursday morning. His white Western shirt was nearly transparent as it clung to his broad chest.
“Yeah.” He laughed as he ran his hands through his hair, causing it to stick up even more. “My presentation isn’t the best right now.”
“You’ve only made it worse. Here.” Reaching up, she sank her fingers into his thick locks. Oh. Ooohhh. Her skin tingled and her breath caught as she finger-combed his damp hair into place.
His hand circled her wrist. ““Probably shouldn’t do that.” His voice was husky.
She met his gaze. The heat in his eyes could dry her off in no time. For one electric moment, she basked in it.
His eyes darkened. “Unless…”
Sanity prevailed. “No, I—” She backed away. “Sorry.”
He released her wrist. “No worries.” He shoved his hand in his pocket and cleared his throat. “We...um…talked about lunch.”
“Yes! We did. Lunch.” She was breathing too fast. So was he, and the way his wet shirt molded to his pecs was extremely distracting.
“There’s the diner, but we’re not exactly—”
A Cowboy’s Challenge_The McGavin Brothers Page 7
