Wild About the Wrangler (18 page)

“I could go a little longer.”

“I know you could, but I want to make sure we end on a high note. Then you'll be eager to come back tomorrow and hang out some more with ol' Jasper.”

“You don't have to worry about that anymore. Jasper and I are buddies.” She reached down and patted his neck.

“I'm really glad to hear you say that.” He opened the corral gate. “Riding skills are great, but if you don't feel bonded to the horse, then it becomes a technical exercise.”

“That's true in art. If you aren't bonded with your subject, it shows in the work. You kept telling me to look at things from Jasper's point of view. When I do that, it changes everything.”

“Yeah, it does.” He gestured toward the open gate. “After you.”

She walked Jasper out of the corral. The gelding would have kept on walking toward the hitching post because he knew the routine, but her soft
whoa
and a tug on the reins kept him there while Mac latched the gate. She was starting to act like a rider, not a scared woman clinging to the back of an animal she didn't trust.

“That was good what you did right there.” Mac started over toward the hitching post and she clicked her tongue so Jasper would follow along. “You didn't let him go wherever he wanted. You made him wait for me.”

She laughed. “I think what he wants is to get this saddle off. That cinch must feel like a corset.”

“I wouldn't know. Never worn one.”

“I have, and it's no fun. I've heard that men think it's sexy, especially the black lace ones, but I don't get it.”

“What can I say? It's a guy thing.” Of course now he was imagining her wearing nothing but a black lacy corset and a smile.

“They should try one sometime and see how they like it. What good is a tiny waist and amazing cleavage if you can't breathe?”

“I'd have to say breathing is more important than cleavage.” He was fascinated by the ease between them considering the topic. This was how they used to talk to each other all the time. Maybe they hadn't lost that, after all.

“I know, right?” She reached the hitching post and dismounted with the cute little hop she'd perfected. “And it's fake cleavage, anyway. Once you take off the corset, everything goes back the way it was before.”

Mac grinned. “Good point.” That comment was so Anastasia. He briefly allowed himself to imagine a life in which they were together in every sense of the word. Fun conversation and fun sex. No doubts, no barriers. Friends and lovers. He didn't trust himself to pull it off.

“Okay, bridle off, halter on, then saddle and saddle blanket off. Do I have that right?”

“You do.” Before they'd gone out to the corral, he'd had her practice unbridling and putting on the halter. She'd caught on fast. With her fear greatly reduced, she could concentrate more on his instructions.

“Don't tell me anything unless I start screwing up.”

“I won't.”

She started humming “Danny Boy” as she cautiously went through the steps he'd shown her. When she was finished, she stepped back, the bridle looped over her shoulder exactly as he'd suggested. “How's that?”

“Excellent. I'll take the bridle while you start unsaddling.”

“I should probably go hang it up myself.”

“Let's not carry this self-sufficiency business to extremes. I'm right here, so I can hang up the bridle.”

“All right. Thank you. But I'm carrying the saddle into the barn. It's a point of honor not to expect some big strong man to do the heavy lifting.”

He smiled. “Understood.” When he came back out, she nearly had Jasper unsaddled.

She huffed and puffed a little getting it off such a tall horse but eventually she carried it proudly toward the barn door.

“Will you be offended if I take off the saddle blanket?”

“Go for it.”

As he laid it over the hitching post to air out, he thought of calling out to remind her to bring the tote with the grooming supplies. Then he decided to wait and see if she remembered on her own.

Moments later she appeared, tote in hand. “I'm starting to get the hang of this.”

“You definitely are.”

“I just rub him down this time, right?”

“That should do it. We didn't work him very hard this morning. After a trail ride we might need to be more thorough.”

“I've been thinking about that.” She moved the cloth over Jasper's neck. “You said you'd have both horses ready to go, but I want to help tack them up.”

“Listen to you using horse lingo.”

“I know! Anyway, I'll be here early in the morning so I can saddle and bridle Jasper. Is five thirty good enough?”

“It is, but—”

“Then expect me at five thirty. Case closed.”

“All right. But don't eat breakfast. I'm bringing it. We'll stop somewhere on the trail to eat.”

“A breakfast ride.” She rounded Jasper's hindquarters to finish the job. “That sounds perfect. Would you mind if I brought my sketch pad, just in case? I know we're not going all the way into the canyon, but I'd like to have it, anyway.”

“By all means. We won't be in any hurry. I don't have anything else scheduled for tomorrow morning.”

She paused and glanced at him across Jasper's back. “This is sounding like an event!”

“It's your first trail ride, so it's definitely an event.”

She hesitated. “Just so you know, the band's playing again tonight, but I'm going to skip going down there. Not that it should matter to you whether I go or not, but—”

“Of course it matters to me. And for what it's worth, I'd decided to stay home tonight, too.”

“I sort of figured you would. For one thing, Sadie's will be even more crowded tonight. Some of the trail riders will already be in town.”

“Right.” That wasn't his reason for not going, but it worked as an excuse. “I used to be all about hanging out in a noisy, crowded bar, but I realized last night it's not as much my thing anymore.”

“I know what you mean. I'd dance the night away in college, but I'm over it.”

And then he had the crazy idea that it would be fun to invite her to his place for dinner. He could show her what he was doing with the house and they could sit on his front porch, drink a beer, and watch the sunset. He'd cook something simple for dinner, and then . . . Well, he knew what he'd want to do after dinner.

“Mac? Are you okay?”

Startled out of his little daydream, he cleared his throat. “Yeah, sorry. Got distracted for a minute.”

“No kidding. You were a million miles away.”

He smiled. “Not quite that far.” He wouldn't ask her to dinner, of course. That would take them down a road he wasn't prepared to travel. But it had been fun to think about.

A
nastasia was so excited she had the shivers. In order to make it over to the stable by five thirty, she'd had to get up at a time when she'd been known to go to bed. But the prospect of a trail ride into Wild Horse Canyon with Mac, even if they didn't go far enough to catch a glimpse of the Ghost, made climbing out of bed easy.

He'd told her not to eat breakfast, so she hadn't, but she'd made a cup of coffee that was pure sludge to tide her over. Getting up had been a breeze. Staying awake now that she was up would take some dedication and caffeine.

Once she'd arrived, she'd helped with the saddling and bridling rather than insisting on doing everything for Jasper herself. The job went faster that way and she didn't want to slow them down with her fumbling. And now, here they were, heading out the gate of the stable yard before sunup.

Mac led, but they'd barely cleared the gate before he turned in his saddle to check on her. “How're you doing back there?”

“I feel like a kid on Christmas morning.”

He smiled. “I sort of do, too. Travis and I take greenhorns into the canyon every weekend, but this is the first time I've been able to show it off to someone I know, and an artist, at that.”

“I'm glad you're excited, too, then.” The pace was slow along the paved road and there was no traffic at this hour. The steady clop of their horses' hooves reassured her, but she took her greatest comfort from Mac. He rode with such confidence that he inspired it in her. “What's your favorite thing about the canyon?”

“I'd have to say the waterfall, but Sing-Song Creek is also pretty. I like watching the morning sunlight moving up the canyon walls. We won't see any wildflowers this late, but the cottonwoods are turning. You'll see those on Monday when we make the complete trip.”

“Do I remember right that you don't have anything you need to do this morning?”

“Not really. I told Ed I'd help him get ready for this weekend's ride, but he doesn't need me until around two.” He swiveled around toward her. “If you want to stop and sketch something, we have time.”

“Good. I just might.” Too bad she couldn't sketch and ride at the same time, or she'd do one of Mac leading her down the trail. Somehow he achieved a relaxed posture without slouching.

She used what art school had taught her about muscle structure to figure out that he kept his lower back flexible so he could move with the horse. Breaking it down that way helped her copy him, although it didn't feel natural yet. He looked as if he could maintain his position all day.

The trail wound through a grove of mesquite trees, and the sky was light enough now that she noticed spots where branches had recently been cut. As they continued on, she saw a few lying on the ground near the trail. “Has someone been out here trimming trees?”

“Yeah, me. I hauled some of the branches back to my house. If I have time today I'll get the rest so I can cut them up. By next winter they'll make great kindling.”

“When were you out here?”

“Yesterday.”

As she passed another tree with a branch that had been cut, she realized why. He'd spent part of yesterday removing anything that could pose a hazard for a passing rider. “Do you trim often?”

“When it needs doing.”

“So you cleaned things up for the trail ride this weekend?”

“That, too.”

“You did this mostly for me, though, didn't you?”

He chuckled. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“Thank you. That was so considerate.”

“Can't have you getting all scratched up on your first trail ride. I didn't go clear to the creek, though, because we won't be out that far today. This particular grove was the most overgrown, anyway.”

“Well, I really appreciate it.” The sweet gesture warmed her in places she hadn't known were cold. He obviously cared about her even if he didn't think they could make a go of it.

They continued to mosey along, the saddles creaking and the horses' hooves thudding softly in the dirt. But now she was watching for those cut branches, and every one they passed felt as special as if he'd given her a long-stemmed rose. They were only about twenty minutes into the ride and already it had been special.

“Hold up a minute.” He brought his horse to a halt. “Come alongside me. There's room.”

She nudged Jasper. He drew abreast of Cinder and stopped the second she pulled back gently on the reins. Close quarters. Her right stirrup was only inches from Mac's left one.

“Turkeys,” he murmured. “About fifteen yards ahead. Let's give them a chance to cross.”

She peered into the shadows. She heard their soft gobbling first, and then she saw them meandering across the trail. As if showing off for her, one paused and spread his tail.

Mac's camera phone clicked. He'd promised to take pictures because she didn't feel confident enough yet to mess with her phone while riding a horse.

“Thanks for taking that. I've never drawn a wild turkey. Now I want to try.”

“I don't know if the picture will be any good. The light's still pretty dim.”

“But it could be fine for a reference photo, so send it to me, anyway. Poor turkeys. The canyon used to be named for them and now it's not. No respect.”

“Face it, wild turkeys aren't sexy. Wild horses are.”

And so was the cowboy sitting next to her astride the big black horse. Without these riding lessons, she'd never have shared this experience with him. He was in his element out here far more than he was on a barstool at Sadie's.

He tucked the phone away and glanced at her. “Everything okay? Any issues so far?”

“Nope. Doing fine.” Except at this moment she had a fierce urge to lean over and kiss him. She wouldn't have to worry about falling because he'd hang on to her. But kissing wasn't part of the program.

“Then we'll keep going, but if you start getting tired, let me know right away.”

“I will.” But she'd have to be bordering on exhaustion before she'd say a word, because ultimately she wanted to get to the creek this morning. She didn't plan to tell him that. No doubt he'd put up an argument.

But she'd listened to Georgie describe the Ghost's habits, and if they made it to the creek within the next hour or so, the stallion might be there with his herd. Early morning and late afternoon were prime times for spotting the wild horses in that area. No reason to put off until Monday what could be accomplished now.

The walls of what was now called Wild Horse Canyon loomed ahead and her pulse rate picked up. Unless the Ghost had taken his band into another area, unlikely without some threat, they'd be at the creek right about now. The grass wasn't abundant in the meadow this time of year, according to Georgie, but enough still grew along the creek to keep them coming back.

Anastasia wanted to see the Ghost so much she could taste it. Now that Mac had taught her to look at things from the horse's point of view, she understood that the stallion would be more afraid of her than she could ever be of him. If he had a choice, he'd run away.

She wanted to get a really good look at him before he did that. Georgie had told her about quietly sitting on a rock near the stream when the Ghost just showed up. Georgie hadn't moved a muscle while the horse had taken a long drink. And then he was gone.

An encounter like that would thrill Anastasia's artistic soul, but she didn't want to be greedy. Even a brief glimpse of the stallion would be special. If that didn't happen, she had a backup plan.

She could ride now. Georgie had already mentioned loaning her Prince, her old nemesis, so they could ride together. She and Georgie could ride into the canyon together, and Georgie was a whiz at anticipating the stallion's habits. She had a connection with the Ghost.

Anastasia did, too, but it was through all the sketches she'd done. Her connection was one step removed from reality. She was determined to change that this morning.

In the meantime, she didn't want to focus so intently on seeing the Ghost that she ignored the wonders of the canyon at sunrise. Besides her terror of horses, she'd also been imprisoned by her habit of staying up late and sleeping even later the next morning.

And oh, what she'd missed. The chatter and chirping of what sounded like a million birds echoed off the canyon walls. Sunlight gilded the rim of the canyon before sliding slowly down its sculptured cliffs. The shadowed patterns it created as it descended mesmerized her. When she could tear her gaze from that light show, she saw bunnies with flirty white tails and amazing ears charting a zigzag course as they bounded away through the tall grass.

“There's a grove of oak trees up ahead where we can stop for breakfast,” Mac called over his shoulder. “Then we can head back.”

“Breakfast sounds good.” But she had no intention of heading back so soon. “How far into the canyon are we?”

“About halfway.”

“Good to know.” Her exercises were paying off. She might be a little sore if they made the full circuit, but that's what sports creams were for. She didn't have any, but Georgie did and would be happy to loan her a tube. She'd be ready to go again first thing in the morning.

The oak grove Mac had mentioned was a natural picnic spot, a clearing circled by trees sporting fall colors and several large rocks in the middle that provided makeshift seating. He guided Cinder off the path, quickly dismounted, and let the reins drop to the ground.

She watched that with interest. “Don't you have to tie him to something?'

“Not anymore. He used to be a flight risk, but now I can ground tie him.”

“He'll just stay there even if he's not anchored to anything?”

“He will. You can do the same with Jasper. It's quick and easy when you're on a trail ride, so Travis, Vince, and I have trained all the horses to ground tie. It simplifies our life during the day. At night, though, we still tie them the old-fashioned way. We can't afford to let one of Wild Horse Canyon Adventures' horses wander off into the canyon.”

“And become part of the Ghost's herd.”

“Could happen.” He walked toward her. “Ready to get down and have some breakfast catered by yours truly?”

“I am.” She took her right foot out of the stirrup, swung her leg over, and dropped to the ground as she normally did. Except her right foot didn't support her as well as she'd expected and she stumbled.

He grabbed her arm to steady her, but once she had both feet planted, he let go and backed away. “All right, now?”

“Yeah, thanks. I don't know why that happened. My right ankle just sort of collapsed on me.”

“You've been in an unfamiliar position for a while. It's common for first-time trail riders to be a little wobbly when they dismount.”

She remembered how he'd casually walked in her direction and invited her to get down. “So that's why you came over, just in case?”

“Yep.”

“Thank you. I probably would have landed on my butt if you hadn't been there.” She was disappointed in herself, too. She was shaky from riding what couldn't have been much more than a half hour.

“Have a seat on a rock and I'll serve you breakfast.”

She took his advice instead of trying to help organize the meal. Here she'd thought he'd grossly underestimated her tolerance for a long ride. Maybe not.

“Do you want me to bring your sketchbook over?”

“Not just yet, thanks.” Sinking down onto the cool rock, she stretched her legs out in front of her. She was far from exhausted, but that stumble getting off had been sort of embarrassing.

What if she talked Mac into going all the way into the canyon and then was even shakier? She wouldn't have the option of resting overnight like the trail riders did. When Charmaine had made the trip, she'd had hours to recover before starting back.

Plus Charmaine worked out at a gym every day in order to maintain her size two figure. And her job as a personal shopper had her on the go constantly.

Anastasia, on the other hand, worked sitting down, except for those few times she stood when using an easel. Even then she sometimes sat. Dancing at Sadie's the other night had left her breathing hard.

All things considered, maybe she should follow Mac's plan instead of trying to expand on it. She'd tried to stay relaxed during the ride, but she grudgingly admitted to being a little tense. Maybe her body still held some residual fear, a problem Charmaine hadn't had to deal with.

“I thought you'd want this first.” Mac walked over with a deep blue pottery mug and handed it to her.

She accepted the coffee gratefully. “Perfect.” She also recognized the mug. Inez Abbott, the mayor's wife, was an excellent potter and this looked like her work. “I'll bet Inez made this.”

“She did.” He poured coffee from a thermos into a second mug that was similar, although Inez never made two exactly alike. “I bought six at the craft shop this summer.”

The mug's rounded contours fit smoothly into her cupped hands as she lifted it for her first sip. Closing her eyes, she sighed in appreciation. “You sure know how to take care of a girl, Mac.”

“It's easy when the girl is you.”

She looked up to find him watching her, his expression tender. Her heart beat faster. “The way I see it, I've been a royal pain in the ass.”

“Sometimes.” His smile was as warm as the light in his eyes. “But you make up for it in other ways.”

“Good to know.” She wasn't sure what to think about how he was looking at her. It wasn't the gaze of somebody who'd decided to keep her at arm's length. It was more along the lines of
I want to kiss you all over.

She'd just about decided he was going to close the distance between them and start doing that when he glanced away and cleared his throat. “Let me get the food.”