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“Then trust me, you need the leather padding.” He continued his assessment. “Boots—good, but clearly not broken in. Don’t you have any work boots?”
“These are my work boots.”
He shook his head. Was that an eye roll? He’d better learn to take her seriously.
“That looks like a nice shirt, too. It’s fine for riding, but I suggest an older one tomorrow. You’re going to get dirty.”
Dirty? Angie’s shirt was a western-style red cotton. She’d been sure it was the right choice. “So you want me to dress like trash, is that it?”
“Call it what you want, but you’ll be happy enough when your clothes are slick with sweat and grime.”
“I do not sweat.”
He laughed. He actually laughed at her!
“Honey, when I’m done with you, you’ll be sweatin’ like a pig.”
Like a pig? How rude. “I’m not your honey.”
“Yeah, yeah. What about a helmet?”
“A helmet? Seriously? I’m not a complete beginner.”
“Have you ridden this horse before?”
“No.”
“Then you need a helmet. Have one tomorrow, honey.”
“I said I’m not your honey.” She stomped her foot to make her point and then shuffled it back. No need to get her dander up. Calling her honey was not likely to be the only thing Rafe did to tick her off today.
“You’re right about that one. I suppose we should get started. By the end of today, you’ll wish you’d gone for older clothes. Your horse is in the third stall from the left. Check her out, and then get her ready to ride.”
Angie walked to Belle’s stall. She was a beautiful mare, black as midnight with one lone white spot on her forehead. Angie ran her hand through her sleek mane. It was a little knotted. The horse looked fine, though. She walked back to join Rafe.
“She looks great. She’s ready to ride.”
Rafe’s head tilted back and a boorish guffaw emerged from his throat. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he laughed.
“What is it now?” Yes, her tone was a bit indignant. Why shouldn’t it be?
“It’s six o’clock in the morning. She hasn’t been groomed yet. You do know how to groom her, don’t you?”
Groom her? The hands did the grooming at Cha Cha, her parents’ ranch. At least she thought they did. Didn’t they?
“Isn’t that your job?”
“My job? Your sister comes in every morning and grooms Ladybird. In fact, I expect her any time now.”
“I’m not my sister. I think she prefers horses to people sometimes. She thought she was a horse till she was about five years old.”
That got another smile out of Rafe. Clearly, he was fond of Catie. But back to business.
“I’m paying you to teach me to ride, not groom.”
“I’m paid to take care of Chad and Catie’s horses. Belle is yours. She’s not going anywhere till you get her properly groomed. Start with her feet.”
“Her feet?”
