Page 16 of One Wild Chance

“I’m not getting on a horse,” Wyatt says flatly. “I have a contract that requires me to keep my bones intact through the end of football season.”

“My contract also prohibits activities that endanger my career,” Grady says.

“Does it say horses specifically?” Jaxon asks.

“I feel like that animal could end my career,” Grady replies.

“What about you, Rhett?”

“My agent would kill me,” Rhett says. “Even if I’d look good up there.”

“So none of you are coming.” He pauses. “You’re all a bunch of sissies.”

“We’re being smart,” Grady says.

“You’re chickens,” Jaxon fires back.

“Wise chickens,” Wyatt adds.

“Fine,” Jaxon huffs. “I’ll go alone. It’s not like I need a chaperone anyway.”

“You sure about that?” Grady asks.

“Of course I am,” Jaxon says.

I should walk away and let Jaxon make a fool of himself, but something pulls me forward.

I step through the arena door and my heart nearly stops. Jaxon is in the round pen with Rebel, easing the saddle pad onto her. She tenses, tail flicking, then shifts her weight as he reaches under her belly for the cinch. The moment he pulls it snug, she drops her head, arches her back, and gives an explosive buck, hindquarters launching straight up. Jaxon jumps out of the way at the last second, stumbling backward and going down hard in the dirt.

Rebel takes off around the pen, the lead rope whipping behind her, the saddle barely holding. The brothers stare. No one’s brave enough to say I told you so.

I clamp my mouth shut. I am not going to laugh. I am not going to laugh. I am not going to… The snort comes out through my nose.

Jaxon climbs to his feet, brushing the dust off his jeans before he turns around to face me. “You think that’s funny?”

“Actually, yes.” Watching Jaxon Chance get shown up by a horse might be the most satisfying thing I’ve seen all year.

He wipes his hands on his jeans. “I’d like to see you do better.”

I pull a peppermint from my pocket, an old trick I learned from Miriam, and enter the enclosure.

“What are you—” Jaxon starts.

I hold up one finger and angle my body away from Rebel.

Don’t look at her or move toward her. Just keep the peppermint flat on my open palm and wait.

Rebel trots a half circle around the pen and swings her head toward me.

Don’t fail me now, Rebel girl.

She inches toward me, then a little more before her warm nose finds my palm.

I grab her lead line. “Hey, girl,” I murmur, stroking her neck. When I glance up, all four brothers are staring at me like I’m the horse whisperer.

“What?” I shrug. “She’s not ready for a saddle yet.”

I’ve worked with horses for a while now. I know all their personalities and quirks. They need time, just like humans.