Page 43 of Sunrise & Serenity

“Thanks, man.”

I’m just shoving my phone back into my pocket when Sage rounds the corner of the stallion barn.

“I made it here in one piece,” she says as she reaches me. “No getting lost, no falling off a cliff.”

“I can see that.”

For a few seconds, I allow my gaze to trail down over her. She’s only been here a matter of days, but already, she’s stopped looking like she’s playing the role of city girl meets country.

Her jeans hug her waist and follow the flare of her hips before skimming down the length of her legs. Her sleeves are rolled to her forearms, exposing warm skin dusted by the setting sun, while the straw cowboy hat Taryn helped her pick out shadows her eyes but doesn’t hide her lush mouth.

She doesn’t look out of place anymore, that’s for sure.

Don’t know if that’s a good thing.

Tilting her head to one side, she points behind me. “That’s Cozy, right?”

“Yep. Figured you’d be more comfortable with her.”

The smile she flashes me is the same one she gave me this morning when she opened her door and spotted the thermos in my hand. Her expression had brightened. “Two days in a row. Is this your attempt to kill me with kindness?”

“Can’t believe you figured out my plan,” I deadpanned.

She shook her head, her hazel eyes sparkling in the early-morning light as she took a sip of the coffee I’d deliberately not thought too hard about while making for her.

I don’t know how we got to the point where our mutual irritation has become something else. Something… easier.

But I shouldn’t like it as much as I do.

Cozy snorts, bringing my attention back to why we’re here. “Are you ready for your lesson?”

Sage blows out a breath and rubs her palms on her jeans. “As I’ll ever be.”

“First things first. I want you to watch me saddle her. Before long, you’ll be doing it yourself.”

“I’m glad to know you have confidence in me,” she says. “I actually thought you were going to put me on one of those cute little horses I’ve seen around.”

I raise my brows. “The ones down by the pony paddock, you mean?”

She squints one eye at me. “Possibly.”

“City, those are for kids.”

“Kids have the right idea,” she mutters. “Shorter distance to fall.”

My lips quirk. “You’ll be fine.” I lay the saddle blanket on Cozy’s back, then lift the saddle off the top of the fence and settle it in place. Once I’ve tightened and buckled the cinch that goes around her stomach, I give her a pat on the shoulder.

Sage exhales. “That doesn’t look too hard.”

“It’s not done yet.” I run my fingers between the cinch and the mare’s stomach. “We’ll give it a few minutes, then check it again. Some horses hold their breath and blow their ribs out to keep it loose.”

She flashes me a smile. “I should do that when I zip up my jeans.”

With a chuckle, I grab the bridle from the fence and show her how to put it on Cozy. Once that’s done, I check the cinch again and tighten it another few holes, then give the saddle a firm tug to make sure it doesn’t shift.

Sage gnaws on her lip. “Does it hurt them? The, um, cinch. Is that why they hold their breath?”

I shake my head, scratching Cozy’s neck. “It doesn’t hurt. Some are just smart enough to figure out how to give themselves some wiggle room. But the last thing anyone needs is a saddle slipping. It’s dangerous for both the horse and the rider.”