“You’re making her trudge through mud?” Cull asked, brow raised.
“Why not?” Seth shrugged. “Think she’s too delicate?”
Cull shook his head slowly, surprise flickering across his features. “No, but you never bring anyone else out on foot.”
“It’s the best way for her to see how it works. Ash said she needed before, during and after photos,” Seth replied.
“What’s your problem with her?” Cull frowned.
Seth tugged his hat down, annoyed. “My problem is, I don’t have time for this shit. If Ash hadn’t asked me to do this, it wouldn’t happen. I have enough on my plate and don’t need to babysit a high-society woman who expects all men to bow down to her.”
“I don’t expect any man to bow down to me, Mr. Harrison. Especially you. I am here to do my job, and I will, whether you like it or not.” Ryan turned and walked further into the barn.
“I’ll see you tomorrow morning.At eight sharp.” She said over her shoulder as she disappeared into the darkness.
“Son of a bitch,” Seth muttered, watching until she disappeared.
Cull shook his head with a laugh. “Looks like you’ve got your hands full.”
“Yeah, fuck you, Byrne,” Seth shot back, but the tight edge of his scowl cracked into a grin when Cull’s laughter echoed through the barn.
Wednesday morning light filtered through the barn’s weathered slats as Seth stepped inside the sweet, dusty smell of hay and leather greeting him. He found Cull bent over a saddle stand while Ryan Carroll, her dark hair tied back in a ponytail, checked her watch with a tense flick of her wrist. Seth caught the glance she threw at him; pained impatience mixed with curiosity. He suppressed a grin. Five minutes late… on purpose.
“Cull, could you saddle a horse for Ms. Carroll, please?” Seth called.
Cull glanced up. “Sure thing.” He turned toward a gentle mare nickering in her stall.
Ryan crossed her arms. “I am not getting on a horse.”
“Yes, you are,” Seth replied, voice low. “If you don’t ride, you can’t reach the pasture. And if you can’t get there, you’ll have to call your boss and explain to him why you can’t take photos.”
She lifted a brow. “Her. My boss is a woman. That probably rubs you the wrong way, like I do. Cull showed me the field in the UTV. Why do I have to get on a horse?”
“The men drove the corn planter up to the field to have it ready. They took the UTVs because they’ll go to work from there. There isn’t one available,” Seth said, stepping forward, hands on hips, the straw on the floor crunching beneath him. “This is a working farm and ranch. You ride, or you call your boss. I haven’t got time to argue.”
Ryan closed the distance until they were only inches apart, her boots pressing into the straw on the floor. “I’ve never been on a horse in my life.”
Seth turned toward the stalls. “I’ll put you on the gentlest one we’ve got.”
She clenched her jaw. “I’m afraid of them.”
With a curt nod, Seth entered a paddock and led out his own mount, Zephyr, a calm, chocolate palomino gelding. He looped the lead rope around a sturdy rail and disappeared into the tack room. A moment later, he emerged with a saddle blanket, saddle, bridle and reins. He laid the blanket across Zephyr’s broad back, cinched the saddle, and clipped on the bridle. Every snap and buckle sounded loud in the still air.
Cull was halfway through saddling the mare, his nimble fingers brushing dust from the cinch. Ryan watched, pale-knuckled, her gaze fixed on the trembling of the mare’s flank. Seth shook his head. Too bad. Ride or leave.
He led Zephyr to where she stood. If looks could kill, he would have dropped to the floor.
“Left foot in the stirrup,” Cull instructed, voice soft over the horse’s gentle nickers. “Grab the saddle horn, pull yourself up, then swing your right leg over the cantle.”
“The what?”
“Cantle,” he said as he touched the back of the saddle.
Ryan bounced on her toes, fingers gripping the saddle horn, but she didn’t have enough momentum to get her leg over the saddle. Seth sighed, passed the reins to Cull, then moved behind her. On her next bounce, he slipped a hand against her ass and gave a firm shove. She landed atop the saddle with a startled yelp and shot him a glare that could have sparked a fire.
“There was no need for that, Mr. Harrison.”
He tightened the cinch strap near her boots. “If we waited for you to haul yourself up, we’d still be here at noon. Now hold still while I set your stirrups.”
