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“It’s okay, big guy. He’s not going to hurt you and I’m right here.”
Khatar relaxed and Shane slipped on the halter. She grabbed the rope hanging down.
“Now I have you in my power,” she joked. Khatar took a step toward her. She glanced at Shane. “I guess I can take him wherever you want him.”
The two men both looked stunned. Again. Shane pointed to the corral where Khatar had been kept before. She led the way, stroking his neck as they walked, his head right beside hers. When they reached the enclosure, she walked him in, closed the gate and then unfastened the rope.
“Home again,” she said with a smile.
Khatar sighed. Or maybe snorted. She couldn’t tell.
Shane secured the latch on the gate. “Annabelle, slowly move to the railings.”
She glanced at him. “Seriously, you don’t need to talk in that ‘let’s keep the crazy horse calm’ voice. He’s fine. Too bad I can’t ride him.”
“You can’t,” Shane told her. “Now please come out of the corral.”
She did as asked. Khatar followed her to the fence, then stared at her, looking lost and a little stricken.
“I think he’s lonely,” she said. “Can’t you pay attention to him more?”
Elias walked up. “Ma’am, that horse is a killer.”
“He’s not a killer,” Shane said quickly. “He’s difficult. Or has a reputation for being difficult.”
“You didn’t find out for yourself?” she asked. “You just assumed?” Annabelle looked at the forlorn expression on Khatar’s sad face. “Maybe you should do a little more checking.”
“I’ll get right on that,” Shane told her.
* * *
THE WORLD LOOKED DIFFERENT from the back of a horse, Annabelle thought thirty minutes later. She was perched on Mason, her friend Charlie’s large horse, hanging on to the saddle with both hands. Although she’d read a couple of books on riding, none of that information had prepared her for how far away she was from the ground.
“I don’t think I can do this,” she said desperately.
The horse stood perfectly still, which was a good thing. If he took even a single step, she was pretty sure she was going to start screaming.
“Just relax,” Shane told her. He held on to Mason’s bridle and patted the horse’s shoulder. “Get used to how it feels.”
It felt too high and way too scary, she thought frantically. A hundred or so yards away, Khatar ran back and forth, keeping close to the fence line as he called out to her.
“If you’re telling me to be careful, I’m so listening,” she murmured, knowing the horse couldn’t hear her. Riding while a horse danced? What had she been thinking? “Maybe I’ll try a car wash instead. That would raise money, right? I can wash cars.”
Shane flashed her a grin. “Come on, Annabelle. I was riding a horse before I could ride a bike. It’s not that bad.”
“I’m too small.” Her short legs were sticking out so much they were practically parallel to the ground. “Does he even know I’m on his back? What if he thinks I’m a bug and decides to shake me off?”
“Mason’s a good horse. You’ll be fine. Now take the reins.”
She shook her head. That would mean letting go, which was so not going to happen.
“Use your left hand,” he instructed. “You can still hang on with your right.”
“I don’t want to,” she whined, but then slowly, carefully, picked up the reins. The thick leather was worn and softer than she would have thought. She still kept a firm hold on the massive saddle, but felt slightly more horsewoman-like, perched there and actually holding reins.
“Now think about him moving forward and gently kick him.”
“What?”
“You want him to move, right?”
“Not really.”
She was up to sitting on a horse while the horse stood still. Everything else seemed a little too risky. She reminded herself this was for a good cause. But kicking?
“I don’t want to hurt him.” Or piss him off. At this point, as far as she was concerned, the horse was seriously in control of the situation.
“Then don’t,” Shane told her. “Like I said. Be gentle.”
She sucked in a breath and lightly touched her heels to his side.
Nothing happened.
She did it again. This time Mason turned and stared at her, as if asking if that was her or just a leaf.
“It was me,” she informed the horse. She wiggled in her seat, urging him forward. “Walk.”
He took a lurching step.
Actually it probably wasn’t lurching, it just felt lurching to her. The entire world seemed to jerk slightly as he walked. She screamed, dropped the reins and grabbed onto the saddle with both hands.
She heard something that sounded suspiciously like a laugh but was hanging on too hard to look in Shane’s direction.
“You’re not helping,” she yelled.
“You’re doing fine.”
“This is not fine. This is flirting with death.”
“Relax. Move with him instead of against him. You’re fighting movement you can’t control.”
Not information designed to make her feel better. She sucked in a breath and tried to relax. As her muscles unclenched, she realized the movement wasn’t as lurching as she’d first thought. She was staying in the saddle and didn’t feel that she was in danger of slipping off. While she kept a tight grip on the saddle with her right hand, she once again picked up the reins with her left.
“Good,” Shane said, his mouth twitching suspiciously. “Just like that.”
“Are you mocking me?”
“Only a little.”
Thirty minutes later, Annabelle had figured out the walking thing and had even been slapped around during a very bone-crunching trot. She’d managed to let go of the saddle and hang on to the reins like a real rider.
“Not bad,” Shane said as she drew Mason to a stop.
“Thanks,” she said, bending over and patting the horse’s neck.
“I was talking to him.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Very funny. So how do I get down?”
She’d used wooden steps to get up to horse level, but wasn’t sure she was comfortable dropping onto them. If Mason wasn’t in exactly the right position, she could easily fall off the stairs and snap a bone or something.
“Swing your leg over and drop to the ground,” Shane said, moving in to hold on to the horse’s bridle. “I’ll keep him still.”
She looked all the way down to the ground, then shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
“You can’t stay up there forever,” he pointed out. “You’ll be fine.”
“Do you know how short I am? It’s farther for me than most people.”
“By a couple of inches.”
Inches could be significant. As a man, he should know that. Still, his point about not staying up in the saddle for the rest of her life was a good one. So she followed his instructions on how to position her hands and then swung her right leg over Mason’s wide and very high back. Holding on to the saddle, she reached down and down and finally felt the solid earth with her toe. She released and sank back. Only to find herself unable to stand.
Annabelle’s arms went up and out as she staggered, her legs too wobbly to support her. It was as if the muscles had suddenly become al dente pasta.
Just before she hit the ground, strong arms came around her and saved her.
She found herself pressed up against Shane, staring into dark eyes that were bright with humor. This close, he looked even better. She liked the firmness of his jaw and the shape of his mouth. She was aware of his hands—one on her waist and one resting at the small of her back. Her body nestled against his and there was heat everywhere.
“Your muscles take a minute to recover after riding,” he murmured. “I probably should have warned you.”
She felt the first serious zing of attraction ricochet through her. It left her weaker than being on horseback riding ever could and alerted her to fifty kinds of danger.
Apparently Shane should have warned her about a lot more than riding.
CHAPTER THREE
“I FOUND IT,” THE little girl said proudly, holding up the latest edition in the Lonely Bunny series. This one—Lonely Bunny Goes to the Beach—showed the now-famous rabbit in a sun hat, on a towel with the ocean in the background.
“You’re going to love the story,” Annabelle told the girl. “It’s one of my favorites.”
“I can’t wait!”
The girl ran off to show her mother.
Summer mornings were crazy busy in the library. The summer reading program coordinated between the schools and the library brought in plenty of kids and many of their parents.
For the librarians, the hours were shorter, but the time spent at work was more frantic. Getting the usual amount of work done in less hours with more people milling around. Annabelle loved when the library was crammed, most of the seats taken and the computers hummed with activity.
Normally she didn’t work in the children’s section, but the regular librarian was on vacation and Annabelle was happy to fill in. The unfamiliar work gave her less time to think—a good thing considering the man on her mind.
She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Shane since “the incident on the horse.” Although technically it was the incident getting off the horse, but she didn’t feel the need to be that picky.
She’d been able to deal with Shane’s good looks with no problem. He was a handsome, if slightly strange, man who was going to teach her to ride. Then she’d seen him joking with Elias and she’d found herself intrigued by his sense of humor. Which would have been fine if she hadn’t ended up pressed against his body yesterday. Seriously pressed, with heat and tingles. A dangerous combination.
She knew that when it came to men, she had the word disaster tattooed on her forehead. She was always trying to be whatever the man in question wanted. She had to learn to be herself. Could she do that? Could she let Shane see who she was and take things from there?
If only he weren’t so appealing, she thought ruefully. Because honestly, thinking about the very yummy Shane and his powerful chest, long legs and surprisingly large hands made her want to figure out exactly what he found most appealing and be all that. Which would only get her into trouble.
“I want the real thing,” she reminded herself in a soft voice. That meant breaking old patterns, being strong and, mostly, being herself. So if Shane was into short, plant-killing women who like to read and hang out with their friends, then they had a chance. If not, she was going to have to ignore the tingles he generated and move on.
Not that he was actually asking her to do anything at the moment.
The good news was tomorrow was the Fourth of July. Which meant no library and no riding lessons. She would lose herself in the fun that was a holiday in Fool’s Gold and forget all about the rugged cowboy with the tempting smile.
A small squeal alerted her to the arrival she’d been waiting for. Annabelle walked toward the children gathered around a very worried-looking dog and the pregnant woman holding his leash.
Montana Hendrix Bradley smiled. “We’re here.”
Annabelle’s automatic “Thanks for coming” got lost as she stared at Montana’s huge belly. “Are you okay?” she asked instead. “You look…”
“Huge?” Montana rubbed the small of her back. “I’m counting the days, let me tell you. I can’t get comfortable anytime. I don’t sleep.” She lowered her voice. “I pee every fifteen seconds. Let’s just say I’m not one of those women who glow during pregnancy.”
Annabelle felt a little swish of envy. “But you’ll have a baby.”
Montana smiled. “That’s the best part. Just a couple of weeks to go and then we’ll have our precious little girl.”
“How’s Simon dealing with the waiting?”
At the mention of her husband, Montana’s expression softened. “He’s making me insane, hovering all the time. He phones me every other minute and treats me like I’m breakable.”
“You love it.”
“I do and him. We’re both excited to start the whole kid thing.” She glanced around at the children swarming Buddy. “Okay, let’s get this started.”
It only took a couple of minutes to get the first reader settled with Buddy. Montana had started the reading program the previous year. Buddy, a trained service dog, was the perfect choice. He had a perpetually worried expression and children instinctively wanted to make him feel better. When they read, he relaxed.
During the school year, Buddy traveled to various schools in the district. In the summer, he was a regular tutor at the library. Annabelle had seen the difference he made to the children who had trouble reading. While a child might be uncomfortable reading to an adult, a dog never judged or criticized.
Once Buddy and the first reader had flopped down on the beanbag chairs provided, Montana rejoined Annabelle and carefully lowered her pregnant self into a chair.
“You look as worried as Buddy,” Montana said, tucking a strand of blond hair behind her ear. She still wore it long, with bangs. One of three identical triplets, Montana was as beautiful as her sisters. All three of them had been married the previous New Year’s Eve in a memorable wedding at The Gold Rush Ski Lodge and Resort.
“While I have plenty of research material on giving birth, what with this being a library and all, I’m not ready to put it into practice,” Annabelle admitted.
Montana laughed. “Don’t worry. The hospital is close and trust me, Simon would make sure I got there. My poor gynecologist is used to dealing with anxious husbands, but with Simon being a doctor, he’s starting to ask her technical questions. I suspect she’ll be threatening to sedate him when I go into labor. How are Heidi’s wedding plans coming?”
“We’re still in the early stage,” Annabelle said. “Heidi’s getting organized and Charlie and I are doing as much as we can to help. Between the remodels on the house, her goats, the growth in her cheese business and being engaged, she’s juggling.”
