Page 45 of Sunrise & Serenity

Luckily, Cozy is patient. She’s put up with plenty of learners climbing on and off her. She stands, hipshot, tail whisking at flies, until Sage settles awkwardly in the saddle. As soon as she does, I step back, fingers curling at my sides.

She grins down at me, her eyes bright. “I can’t believe I’m on a horse.”

I swallow roughly. “Are you ready to go for a walk?”

She nods eagerly, her earlier nervousness seemingly gone.

“If you start to wobble, grab on to the horn. Otherwise, hold the reins loosely.” I hand them to her, making sure there’s plenty of slack between her hands and Cozy’s mouth. “I’ll lead her around to start with, so you don’t have to worry about steering. Just feel how she moves beneath you and relax into the rhythm.”

“Got it.”

Holding the side piece of Cozy’s bridle, I lead her around the pen. She walks calmly by my side, and when I glance back at Sage, she’s grinning again. “Feeling good up there?” I ask her.

“It’s actually really relaxing.”

My lips twitch, and I face forward again. “It is.”

Once she’s comfortable, I show her how to guide Cozy with the reins before releasing the bridle and letting her take over. A slight crease forms between her brows as she rides around the pen in one direction, then turns the mare and heads back the other way without any help from me.

When she gives a little fist pump of accomplishment, I rub my hand over my mouth to hide my amusement. Somewhere along the way, my regret over scheduling this lesson seems to have evaporated.

After another ten minutes or so, I decide that’s enough for today and explain how to dismount. Since it’s essentially the reverse of mounting, it’s relatively straightforward. Except when Sage slides down Cozy’s side, she wobbles a little on landing.

On instinct, I grasp her waist and pull her back against me. “I’ve got you.”

Her sharp inhale vibrates through me. For a moment, we stand frozen, my words lingering in the air between us.

My thumbs trace small circles against her ribcage before I can stop myself. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, except complicating something I should be doing my best to simplify now that some of the tension between us has eased.

Yet it takes far more effort than it should to loosen my hold and step back so she can face me.

“Dismounting takes a bit of getting used to. It’ll be easier once you get a feel for your horse’s height.” My voice comes out rough.

Sage wets her lips, her gaze searching mine. “Thank you.”

There’s a smudge of dust on one of her cheeks, and I have to force myself not to smooth it away. It seems like the more I touch her, the easier it becomes to keep touching her.

Cozy takes the opportunity to nuzzle at Sage’s pocket.

“Oh, I forgot.” She pulls the packet of mints out and pops one into her palm. “Here you go.”

She carefully holds her hand out flat, this time without hesitation. Cozy is just as quick to snuffle it up as she was last time, and Sage laughs softly. The sweet sound tugs at my chest.

When was the last time I heard a woman sound that carefree? I’ve spent the last decade indulging in superficial relationships—post-win hookups or short-term flings that never asked much of either of us.

It worked when my whole focus was on the next rodeo, the next ride. But it doesn’t lend itself to moments of genuine warmth.

“Come on,” I say, gruffer than I intend. “You can help me put her away.”

Sage doesn’t seem to mind my tone. “Okay, let’s go.”

Together, we walk toward the barn, Sage holding Cozy’s reins so the mare ambles at her side.

“You know, you’re good at this,” she says as we enter the cool shade of the barn.

I shoot her a glance. “What’s that?”

“Teaching. I admit, I thought you’d be more… impatient, I guess.”