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“He’s fine.”
Colton jumped down and held out a hand to help her off the fence. The moment her slim fingers gripped his he knew he should’ve let her climb down on her own. On the ground, her head tilted up, and he released her before the warmth of her touch could spread any further up his arm. Kendra’s gaze shifted from him to the horse that towered over her.
“You ride him the most,” she commented. “Is he yours?”
He nodded, trying to ignore the fact that she’d noticed. “I bought him as a colt from Britt almost five years ago; planned to start my own place.” He made motions in the air as if putting up a sign. “Purebred Arabians by Lawe.” Then he laughed at his own theatrics.
Kendra smiled, but her expression of inquiry prompted him to admit, “It’s taking longer than I’d hoped.”
“Why is that?”
He hesitated at the genuine curiosity in her tone. The answer was too personal, so he put a hand on her shoulder to turn her toward the saddle, ending the conversation. “Up you go.”
He avoided her probing glance, and thankfully, she turned to the horse. He watched
her stretch to reach the pommel of the saddle to pull herself up. Yeah, no way she’d get her foot high enough to fit into the stirrup. Colton leaned over with his hands laced together.
“Put your foot in here and I’ll boost you up.”
She did, but as she reached for the saddle horn, Lucky shifted.
“Whoa,” Colton commanded.
“Me?”
“No, Lucky.” He began to boost her up, but she’d already started to withdraw.
Thrown off balance, she fell against him and grabbed on as he barely kept them both from sprawling onto the ground. Regaining his footing, he set her back on her feet. She quickly slid her arms from around his neck with a murmured apology.
Chuckling, he said, “Whoa is always to the horse. Let’s try again.”
He got her into the saddle this time and she stared down at him, her entire body rigid. Colton adjusted the stirrups with a reassuring smile before giving her a brief lesson in foot position, posture and neck reining.
With a final once over to confirm she was ready, he lowered his hand from her calf and stepped away.
Kendra breathed a soft sound of dismay. “Where are you going?”
He took hold of the bridle on his second step and the stallion took the next one with him. She made a desperate grab for the saddle horn.
“Relax,” Colton admonished, halting Lucky.
“I’ve never done this before.”
“So? Learn right. Put the reins in one hand and rest the other on your thigh like I just showed you.” She did as he said. “Now relax. I’m not going anywhere, we’ll just walk.”
He waited until she nodded, then began walking again. From the corner of his eye he saw her hand reach for the horn, but she caught the movement and rested it back on her leg. Atta girl.
He gave her a few minutes to get used to Lucky’s easy stride before asking, “How you doing up there?”
She smiled—a little weak—but still a smile. “Not too bad.”
He didn’t say anything else for almost ten minutes, leading Lucky across the lush pasture toward the sparkling creek that wound through the middle of the ranch. All the while, their earlier conversation repeated relentlessly.
“It’s taking longer than I thought.”
“Why is that?”
“My father was in a car accident.” His boot heel caught on a clump of grass. He didn’t know where the hell that came from, but once said, and once he regained his footing, he found he couldn’t stop talking. “It left him a paraplegic, and he’s in a nursing home.”
