Page 44 of Sunrise & Serenity

Her brow pinches, like she’s not convinced.

I dig a packet of mints out of my pocket and pop one out. “Here.” I hand it to her. “Hold it in your palm, flat like I showed you, and give it to her.”

She stares at it, then at me, a quizzical slant to her mouth. “Horses like mints?”

“Some do. Cozy’s one of them.”

Tentatively, she steps closer. As soon as Cozy catches the scent of the mint, her ears prick forward, and she eagerly stretches out her muzzle.

Sage stops just outside Cozy’s reach, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her face. Like I did on the first day, I move behind her, take her hand in mine, and slowly extend it.

The scent of her shampoo teases me, and I’m all too conscious of the warmth of her body against mine. So I concentrate on keeping my movements slow and sure, so as not to startle her or the horse.

When our hands get close enough, Cozy snuffles up the mint, then crunches it happily.

Sage laughs, the vibration of it against my chest sending a flash of heat through me.

“She really does like them.”

I release her and back away. “Yeah, she’s a sucker for them. She’ll be your best friend now.”

I pull the remaining mints out of my pocket and pass them to her. “Keep these on you. You can give her another one at the end of the lesson.”

“Thank you.”

The smile she sends my way warms me in a way I don’t want to examine, so I just nod in response.

“Okay. Lesson three. Mounting.”

“Wait, what was lesson two?”

“Making friends with your horse.”

Her laugh floats around us. “Got it.”

“All right.” I adjust the stirrup leather one last time. “Left foot goes here.”

She eyes the saddle dubiously. “You’re sure this is the easiest way to get on?”

“You got a ladder in your back pocket, City?”

She narrows her eyes at me as I step closer and brace one hand on the saddle horn to steady it.

“Okay, put your left foot in the stirrup.”

She hops once, then manages to fit it in.

“Hold on to the horn with your left hand,” I tell her. “Keep your right hand on the back of the saddle.”

She lets out a breath, then follows my directions.

“Good. Now push up with your left leg and swing your right one over.”

She gets halfway up before her boot slips in the stirrup, sending her pitching sideways.

“Oh—”

I reach out to steady her, my hand closing around her leg. The contact lasts no more than two seconds, but the way her thigh flexes against my palm sears itself into my brain.