Page 4 of Ethan

He left without waiting for an answer.

She stood there a moment longer than she needed to, then followed him down.

He was already crossing the yard by the time she hit the bottom step. She had to move to keep up.

She followed him into the barn and through to the corral. The barrels were already set up. She was glad to see the floor was covered in sawdust; she knew how hard that ground could get.

Ethan disappeared into the barn without a word. She stood alone in the corral and looked at the pattern. Three barrels, cloverleaf formation, same as always. She’d run this pattern hundreds of times. Thousands, maybe.

She rolled her shoulders and waited.

****

Ethan opened the stall, hooked the lead to the halter, and led the mare out. She already knew the pattern, but she balked at the second barrel every time. He wanted to see how Ms. Austin handled it. He didn’t have time to keep interviewing barrel racers, and he needed her to be as good as her references said.

Once he had the mare saddled and bridled, he led her out to the corral. Naomi was already watching them, a smile on her face. No nerves that he could see. He handed over the reins without comment.

Maybe this would work out.

She took the reins and ran a hand down the mare’s neck before putting her foot in the stirrup. Smooth, unhurried. Good sign.

She walked the mare around the corral once, getting a feel for her, and Ethan crossed his arms and watched. He’d seen riders who went straight for the pattern without taking a moment to read the horse. They were usually the ones who ended up in the dirt.

When she nudged the mare into a lope, he saw it immediately, she had a good seat, relaxed, and balanced, moving with the horse instead of against her. He uncrossed his arms.

She set up for the first barrel and took it clean. The second was coming up and he watched her hands, watched the mare’s ears flatten as they always did just before she—

The mare balked.

Naomi didn’t panic. She held her, circled once, calm, and deliberate, then set her up again. This time the mare went around clean.

Third barrel, clean. She brought the horse back to a walk and rode toward him, breathing easy.

Ethan said nothing for a moment.

“She does that every time,” he finally said. “The second barrel.”

Naomi looked down at him. “I know. I could feel her thinking about it on the first pass.”

“Again,” he said.

She nodded and turned the mare back to the start. This time she pushed her a little faster. The first barrel, clean. The second, the mare hesitated, one stuttering stride, but Naomi had already shifted her weight, and the mare came around without breaking. Third barrel, clean. She loped back to the start without being told.

Ethan watched and nodded for her to go again.

Third run she pushed her faster still. The pattern was tightening up, each barrel cleaner than the last, the mare starting to trust her. By the fourth run the hesitation at the second barrel was barely there at all.

He hadn’t expected that. Not this fast.

She pulled the mare up and walked her toward him, the horse’s sides heaving gently. Naomi’s cheeks were flushed but she was sitting easy, one hand resting on the saddle horn.

She didn’t say anything. She just looked at him and waited.

He straightened and walked to her.

“Monday,” he said. “Seven a.m. Don’t be late.”

Something moved across her face, quick and controlled, before she got it back under wraps. “I won’t.”