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She picked up the blanket from the ground and held it out to Sir Prince. He sniffed it, but went immediately back to chomping his carrot. It was the perfect reaction, and why she’d decided it was time to step up his training. She settled the blanket on his back. His skin twitched, but nothing more than that. She patted his shoulder. “Good boy.”
She swung the heavy saddle into her arms. The strain on her muscles felt good. So did being in the open air and working with her horses. Giving up this aspect of her life had been the hardest thing about becoming a lady. Mrs. Asa MacIntyre might not welcome smelling like a horse, mucking out a barn, or the sometimes bone-crunching results of breaking a horse, but Elizabeth Coyote, Coyote Bill’s crazy daughter, did with a devotion that went beyond liking. She needed it as much as she needed to breathe. The only time she came close to the same satisfaction was in Asa’s arms with the darkness cloaking them in an otherworldly peace.
She showed Prince the saddle. He sniffed it, then went carrot-hunting in her coat pocket.
“Not yet, big boy. First, you’ve got to show me how smart you are.”
She tossed the saddle onto his back and held her breath. She would have preferred to ease it on, but, at her height, that wasn’t possible. He sidestepped and snorted, his breath forming steamy clouds around his muzzle. He swung his head around to inspect the unfamiliar source of weight. He sniffed twice. Her familiar scent must have soothed him because he swung his head back and accepted the carrot she held out.
“Good boy.” She took his halter and urged him forward a step.
Beyond a flicking of his ears, he didn’t protest the weight on his back. She patted his neck again. “Let’s see how you take to the cinch.”
She was pushing it, she knew, but she didn’t have much time. Asa would be back tomorrow and, if she wanted to keep this a secret, she had to make the most of the time she had.
She unhooked the cinch from the saddle horn, then reached under Prince’s belly to pull it up the other side. Like he’d been doing it all his life, he stood still and munched his carrot while she tied the cinch. She pulled it tighter. Not by a sidestep or a snort did he exhibit any displeasure. Exhilaration shot through her.
“You are a bright one.” She patted his neck. “Then, again, you probably know I’d never hurt you.”
She pulled the stirrups down. Catching his halter, she led him around the corral twice. Beyond a few ear flicks at the stirrup’s sway, he didn’t seem to realize he bore a saddle on his back. She pulled him up to the hitching post. He was coming along nicely.
She checked the cinch. It was tight enough to hold the saddle and a rider. She patted his neck again. She’d never had a horse come so far so fast, but Sir Prince had been exceptional from the beginning. He was ready for the next step. She’d need a mounting post, she thought, eyeing the distance from the ground to the stirrup. Short of that, there wasn’t anything between her and the next step of Prince’s training, which was bearing the weight of a rider. She bit her lip and weighed her decision. She didn’t want to ruin a good horse by pushing, then again, she didn’t want to lose anymore time than necessary.
“You even think of getting on that animal and you won’t sit down for a week.”
There was no question who that drawl belonged to.
“Asa.” She spun so fast, Sir Prince whickered in concern. She sighed. “You’re back.”
“And none too soon by the looks of it,” Asa said.
He wasn’t alone. Beside him rode Cougar McKinnely. Both men stared at her with grim expressions. If she had to weigh between the two, Cougar’s held more compassion.
She patted Sir Prince on the shoulder. Wind blew hair out of her bun. She caught it before it could blind her. As she tucked the strand behind her ear, she weighed her options. She could apologize and placate, which would be sensible. She could play dumb, which would no doubt anger him. And from the whiteness of his cheeks and the way his lips were compressed, he didn’t need much of a push to go over the edge. Prudence had always been her specialty.
“I hope you’re happy,” she accused. “You’ve ruined the surprise.”
Both men looked startled and well they should. How were they to know she’d decided just yesterday that prudence was boring?
Asa found his voice first. “Can’t see how coming home to find my wife trampled by a hot-headed stud is something I’d mind ruinin’.”
“Sir Prince is not hot-headed.” She looped the halter string around the hitching post. Training was clearly over for the day.
