Page 76 of Sunrise & Serenity

“I know how to stay focused.”

She says it so simply, I can’t help but question my own motives for not agreeing right away. Am I genuinely concerned she won’t be able to handle riding fences, or do I just not trust myself alone with her?

I survey the horizon. It’s hazy, with clouds gathering in the distance. It’ll probably storm this evening. That makes checking the fences even more important, and I shouldn’t have any trouble getting back before the weather hits, even with Sage in tow.

I shove down the instinct to tell her no. Avoiding her won’t change what happened between us. And isn’t this why I’ve been giving her lessons, anyway?

Her clear hazel eyes are still fixed on mine, and the certainty in them tips me over the edge. “Stay close,” I say. “Do exactly what I tell you. And if I say we turn back, we turn back. No arguing.”

She nods, excitement lighting up her face. “Okay.”

It’s enough to make me doubt my ability to resist her. When did I become this fucking weak?

“Get Cozy tacked up and ready to go, but be back here in fifteen minutes. I won’t wait around.”

She lifts her chin, accepting my challenge, and I swear a satisfied smirk tugs at her lips. I silently curse myself for finding that sassy smile of hers such a fucking turn-on.

As she turns on her heel and strides toward the barn, I rub the back of my neck. Dammit. Watching her walk away from me in those jeans that emphasize her slender waist and heart-shaped ass isn’t helping either. “Fuck me,” I mutter.

Half hoping she won’t be able to get Cozy tacked up in fifteen minutes so I can leave without her, I finish getting Whiskey ready. I saddle him, then check the saddlebags to make sure I have my fencing pliers, gloves, and a coil of wire. Then I strap a light jacket and a canteen behind the saddle and adjust the rope on the horn.

One minute before her time is up, Sage appears at the barn door, leading Cozy, her camera bag strapped crossbody and snug against her back.

She gives me a triumphant grin as she approaches, then stops in front of me. “Care to assess your teaching skills?”

I shake my head, unable to stop my lips from quirking as I check Cozy’s saddle and bridle. She’s done a good job. “Nice work.”

“Thanks.” Her voice is offhand, but a faint flush stains her cheeks.

Her reaction to the praise reminds me of what she told me about her parents. How many choices has she made hoping to finally hear that they’re proud of her?

A heavy weight lands in my gut as I remember Friday night. The way I acted as though I should have a say in her choices too.

I’m a damn asshole.

“Are we ready to go?” she asks.

With one last look at the horizon, where the clouds are still white with soft edges, I nod. “Let’s go.”

Sage mounts Cozy with only a little trouble getting the mare to hold still for her. Then I lead the way to the trail that winds its way toward the south pastures.

For now, the weather is beautiful. Surrounded by green meadows with red-tailed hawks circling overhead, it’s easy to remember the good parts of living at Wild Ember.

As we follow the line of the fence, I keep an eye on the wire, checking for weak spots or breaks.

I keep an eye on Sage too.

“You’re gripping too hard.”

She shoots me a look, part irritation, part amusement, then loosens her fingers.

“I’ve been going through the shots I’ve taken so far,” she says.

I glance over, curious despite myself. “Yeah?”

“It’s not enough. That’s why I wanted to come out today. To try to get something more immersive.”

I nod. “Makes sense.”