I frown. I know what she’s thinking. It’s too soon; we’re moving too fast. I don’t give a shit! I want her with me.
“I’ve never been on my own. I’ve never been independent. I have to do this for me.”
“If I can find you a job, here. And help you find your own place, would you stay?” I ask matter-of-factly.
I hate the idea of her living in another place. But if it means she’ll stay…
“I’m sure this town is swimming in nursing jobs,” she jokes, raising a brow as I stand with her and walk to Wind-Song.
“I happen to be best friends with the town doctor, and he needs a nurse for his family practice.” I half-lie. “And we have studio apartments here on the ranch when employees need housing.” Not a lie!
Mikayla doesn’t say anything. She just stops walking and looks at me. Her lips are pursed.
“Is there really a job?” she asks skeptically.
“I will confirm that he’s looking and not influence his decision, I promise,” I say, half lying again.
What? Of course I’m gonna tell him to hire her. Kyle will do what he wants in the end, but that doesn’t mean I won’t try to exertsome pressure. I’ve known him for thirty-five years! I’m pretty sure our friendship can withstand it.
“And there really is an available studio apartment?”
“Yes, we have three available as we speak. The other guys live in the larger house we have on the ranch; they opted to all live together,” I assure her. “No one will be moving,” I confirm, completely honest. At least in this I can reassure her. “Now, for your first riding lesson,” I announce as I untether Wind-Song.
“Right now?” she asks as I adjust the stirrups for her short legs. I walk around the horse and adjust the other side.
“Is there another problem with you right now?” I ask.
“I mean, I just ate. Isn’t there like a waiting period after you eat?” she asks, her eyes wide.
“That’s swimming, and it’s an old-wives’ tale,” I say. “Which you know, so stop stalling,” I add, walking over to her.
I walk Wind-Song over to a tree stump that still needs to be removed. I may keep it since it seems to be a good height for Mikayla.
“Stand here. Place your right foot in the stirrup and swing your left leg over the saddle. Hold on to this part here,” I instruct, pointing to the horn. I step to the side and spank her ass for just standing there.
“Ouch!” She swats my hand away. So, naturally, I spank her again for good measure. “You’reornery,” she complains, but her voice is husky.
“Get on the horse, Mikayla.” I know I’m being stern, but she needs to get out of her head.
I stand there and watch her take in several breaths while she holds the horn and back of the saddle, as though she’s preparing for a fight.
“What scares you?” I ask her, laying a soft hand on the top of her head.
“I don’t even know!” she says. “What if he does that thing I saw and I fall off?”
My brow furrows in confusion. “What ‘thing you saw?’” I ask, having no idea what she’s talking about.
“Pat was showing me around, and there were riders in like a pen or something, and the horse lifted his front legs, and the guy fell off!” she says in horror.
Well, fuck you, Patrick!
“First off, she lifted her front legs, not he. Our broncs are mares, not gelding.”
Mikayla looks at me like I’ve grown a second head. I shake the one I have and smile at her.
“Never you mind,” I say, swatting her ass again because I can and because I want to. Her reaction is addicting.
“Stop doing that!” she growls. I grab her wrist and pull her to me.
