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My stomach calms down a little at hearing that it’s Sugar he’s thinking of trying out this insane idea on, but still!
Then I remember, “She’s a mustang.”
“And?” Eyebrow lift.
“And what if, I don’t know,” I throw up my hands, “she suddenly remembers what it was like to be a wild horse and gets it in her mind to go tearing off. With me on her back!”
He gives me a level stare. “Have you known Sugar to be anything but calm and sweet natured?”
“That’s not the point,” I scoff. “You said she was as wild as Samson.”
He props his elbow on his knee, then his chin on his fist. “Oh please, do tell me more about the disposition of my horses, since you have so much experience in this area. Not to mention that your discriminatory attitude against mustangs is fascinating to behold.”
I let out an outraged huff. “Discrimin— How dare you accuse me— I was just—”
“Fine,” he stands up, holding out a hand toward the bedroom door. “No Sugar, though she’s the sweetest mare you’d ever sit saddle on. Pioneer is almost as sweetly dispositioned and he seems taken with you. We’ll gear him up and have you riding circles before sundown.”
“Pioneer is the one who threw his owner!”
“His former owner was an abusive bastard.”
“Exactly.” I raise my hands. He’s making my point for me. “All the animals you’ve taken in are rescues. The same thing I was saying about Sugar could apply to any of them if they suddenly think of their former owners or situations and—”
“Enough.” Xavier’s voice crackles in the suddenly silent room and his dark eyes are enough to communicate that I’ve worn through his patience even if his tone didn’t.
He comes up to me, immediately invading my personal space. He lifts my chin and tilts my head so I’m looking up into his eyes. His other hand rises and he places his palm directly over my chest.
Can he feel how hard my heart is beating?
Just because of my fear about this preposterous idea of riding a horse. It has nothing to do with his physical proximity. Nothing at all.
“Fear has no place here.” His voice is softer now. “I would never endanger you.” His thumb caresses up and runs over where my heartbeat is a flutter at my throat. His eyes avert to stare at his hand as, for just a moment, his fingers close lightly around my throat.
“Trust,” his gaze comes back up to meet mine, “is the most precious gift you can give to any being.”
With that, he lets go of my throat and steps out the door, heading down the stairs.
I swallow hard, my own hand lifting to my neck where his was only moments before.
And then I follow.
Thirteen
I stand fidgeting near the fence while I watch Xavier take Pioneer out and start to saddle him. Yes, I groom these guys every day, but that doesn’t stop them from being so freaking large.
They tower over me. Pioneer is something like twelve to fifteen times the size of little old me. I have to get up on a two-step stepladder to groom Paddyshack, one of the ex-racehorses, he’s so tall.
Pioneer is calm as can be as Xavier tosses the saddle on his back.
Meanwhile, Sugar comes over to me and bumps into my shoulder.
Which makes me feel like crap for dissing her earlier.
“Not now.” I take a few steps away.
She just follows, her big head nuzzling at the back of my neck.
Then comes the licking. I swear she’s as bad as her owner about personal space.
“Sugar, not—” I gently push her away and take another few steps forward, but she also shares Xavier’s stubbornness. She just keeps following me and gently butting her head into my neck and shoulders until I turn around and give her the attention I usually do.
With a sigh, I give in and start scratching at her muzzle, then up her long nose and around to her flowing dark brown mane.
“Are you trying to turn me into a softie? I’m supposed to be a mean New York bitch.” She noses against my hands and makes a blowing, chuffing noise that I know means she’s happy and even excited.
I roll my eyes and then lean my forehead against her nose. “Oh my God, I can’t believe I’m about to do this.”
She keeps rolling her head back and forth against mine.
I turn around and look at Xavier. He’s paused, his hand on Pioneer’s bridal, just watching me with Sugar. Smug bastard probably already knows what I’m going to say. I roll my eyes again as I gesture toward Sugar.
“I’ll ride her.”
At least he doesn’t make a big deal out of it. He simply leads Pioneer close and ties his lead to the fence, then returns to the barn for another tack and saddle. Within ten minutes, he’s led both horses into a smaller paddock, got Sugar saddled, and set what he calls a mounting block on the ground beside her.
