Hayes exhaled sharply. “Fine. But please, no mean horses.”
Seth smirked as he shook his head. “I don’t have mean horses. I’ll get Clover for you. She’ll follow my lead. Once we hit the north ridge fence, you can dismount and rest.”
“It’s just a horse ride. I won’t need to get down.”
“Mr. Hayes, riding works muscles you didn’t know existed. Since it’s been a while since you’ve ridden, you don’t want to stay in the saddle too long.”
“Shit,” Hayes muttered. Then, resigned, “Alright.”
Without another word, Seth strode to a nearby stall, grabbed a lead rope, and clipped it to a calm bay mare’s halter. The animal sniffed the air, nickered, and stamped her hoof.
Hayes remained rooted to the spot. Seth turned, eyebrow raised. “You can’t bond with her from over there. Come closer, let her hear your voice. Hell, grow some balls and touch her. Let her feel your hands on her.”
Hayes swallowed and edged forward. He reached out, fingertips brushing the horse’s velvet muzzle. She leaned into the touch, nickered again.
“Good,” Seth said, stepping back. “I’ll be right back.”
“You’re leaving me with her?” Hayes’ voice trembled.
“Just need to saddle her. I’ll fetch the tack.” He ducked into the shadowed tack room.
Moments later, he returned with a blanket, saddle, and cinch. Hayes stood beside the horse, murmuring encouragement to the horse. The animal turned its head, lips curling in what looked like a grin. Hayes jerked his hand away.
“Is she going to bite me?”
Seth draped the saddle blanket over the horse’s back, smoothing it carefully. “Nah, she’s just showing off.” He settled the saddle, buckled each strap with ease, then motioned for Hayes to mount.
Hayes shook his head with eyes wide. “I can’t.”
“Sure you can. Just put your left foot in the stirrup, grip the horn and cantle, then swing up. I’ll adjust the stirrups after.”
Hayes’ voice wavered. “Isn’t there a stepstool I could use?”
Seth sighed. “Mr. Hayes, just how long ago was your last riding experience?”
“Uh, I was just a kid. It was at the fair.”
“Are you telling me, you rode the ponies around under a tent?”
“Yes, but I was on a horse,” Hayes pointed out.
“That and this are night and day, Mr. Hayes. I don’t appreciate being lied to. I’ll get the stool for you and if you ever lie to me again, about anything, you’re gone. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, sir. I just wanted to impress you.”
“You don’t need to impress me, but you would have if you’d been honest. I’ll be right back.” Seth headed back into the tack room and returned with a short wooden stool, paint chipped, legs uneven. He set it by the horse’s side. “Here you go. I’ll tack up my horse while you climb on.”
As Seth moved to another stall, he saw Ryan approaching. She winked at Seth; he grinned as she stopped beside him.
“So why didn’t you suggest the stool for me?” she teased.
Seth leaned in. “I didn’t suggest it. He did. Besides, I wanted to cop a feel.”
Ryan laughed, then looked at Hayes.
“Come on, Sean,” she called to Hayes. “Get on, or you’ll never make it to the fence line before dark.”
Hayes glared. “You think you’re the expert now?”
