Winning Heart. Laura Browning

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СКАЧАТЬ off her hindquarters. It wasn’t pretty, but they cleared all three.

      “Bring her over,” Thomas ordered.

      Wynter blew out a breath in relief and patted the mare on the neck while she brought her down to a walk on a loose rein. Only then did she turn back to where Thomas leaned against the fence. Her breath caught and heat rose to her cheeks when she saw Nelson Anderson and an older woman standing at the rail. Thomas, who smiled with a bit too much satisfaction, stood next to them.

      She’d been set up.

      Wynter nodded at Nelson, and he returned it, expression unreadable. She’d seen very little of him since that night at the show in Raleigh when he had offered to pay her not to take braiding jobs. She had taken him up on his offer and set the money aside. It would go for school expenses or to help her mother, nothing else. Other than the odd glimpse at some of the horse shows, he’d spent a lot of time away on business she guessed. She glanced at the older woman next to him with a nod and a slight smile. “Good morning, ma’am.”

      “Hop down, girl,” Thomas chided, “and introduce yourself properly.”

      Wynter felt herself blush as she leaned over to give the mare another pat, hoping some of the color would leave her cheeks before she faced everyone. How the hell would she know how to talk to someone who was a client? She was just a shit shoveler. Wynter hopped to the ground and glanced at Thomas.

      “Shouldn’t I walk her first, Thomas? She’s sweaty.” She said it with a hint of pleading, but the trainer wasn’t going to let her off the hook.

      “I’ll take her around while you make your introduction.” He held out his hands for Rosie’s reins, and Wynter handed them over to him before unstrapping the helmet and shaking her braid loose from where it had been tucked up to help make the hard hat fit.

      “What glorious hair, child,” the older woman next to Nelson commented. Wynter saw his glance flick over her hair then away. When the older woman stretched a hand out, Wynter placed hers in the woman’s palm. The older woman held on after shaking it and turned Wynter’s palm up. “No stranger to work, I see.”

      “No, ma’am.” When she once again became aware of the dark blue eyes studying her calloused hand, Wynter wanted to curl it behind her back. She remembered once in school how Tory, Payton Southard’s girlfriend, had made fun of her work-roughened hands.

      The older woman dropped Wynter’s palm and smiled. “Call me Miss Olivia. My real name’s Olivia Rutledge, but my husband’s long gone, thank God, so I prefer Miss Olivia. I’m too old now to drop the Rutledge name.”

      Wynter giggled. She couldn’t help herself. She’d never met anyone quite like this woman.

      “Stop, Olivia,” Nelson said with unexpected humor. “Wynter’s hard-headed enough without you adding fuel with your misandry.” He turned toward Wynter, his deep blue eyes searching her face before he looked away. “Let’s do this right. Olivia,” he said formally, “I’d like you to meet Wynter O’Reilly.” Nelson turned to Wynter again. “Wynter, this is Miss Olivia Rutledge, a neighbor as well as a client.”

      She smiled at the older woman, liking her kind expression. Laugh lines surrounded her eyes and mouth. “I’m very pleased to meet you, Miss Olivia.”

      “Nicely done, girl.”

      Wynter glanced at her in confusion.

      “The ride, I mean,” Miss Olivia added. “I never did like the last girl. She was too rough, too abrupt. Rosie didn’t like her, but she likes you.”

      “Thank you. She’s a wonderful horse.”

      “Then it’s settled? You’ll ride her this weekend in Raleigh?”

      Nelson and Wynter both turned their heads at the same time to stare at Miss Olivia. “What?” they said in unison, Wynter with confusion and Nelson with fury.

      “Sure she will, Miss Olivia,” Thomas said, having just arrived back around the ring with a now cooled-out Rosie.

      “Thomas,” Nelson warned. “Don’t you think we should discuss this first?”

      Thomas looked at his employer. “I wouldn’t enter the girl in an equitation class, Nelson, but when it comes to raw talent, she’s one of the best I’ve seen. Gutsy too. Do you know,” he continued, adding fuel to the fire, “she hasn’t ridden in six months, and look what a fine job she did!”

      Wynter’s confusion grew when Nelson’s face darkened with anger. “What on earth were you thinking?” he snapped. “The girl’s not ridden in six months, you’ve not seen her ride, and you put her on the most complicated mount in the barn?”

      Wynter recoiled in hurt confusion from his anger. She knew how to ride, damn it, and she’d done a good job with the mare. He had no right to be so angry.

      “I would never have let her jump the horse if I thought she would hurt the mare!” Thomas protested.

      Nelson’s hand sliced through the air and slapped against the fence. “It’s not the mare I’m concerned about.”

      Silence followed the unexpected outburst and everyone looked at him with expressions ranging from satisfaction to Wynter’s stunned confusion.

      “I’m fine with it,” Wynter ventured. She saw Nelson was embarrassed.

      He glared at them. “Then settle it among yourselves. I have work to do.” He turned on his heel and limped toward the office.

      Olivia chuckled, meeting Thomas’s twinkling blue eyes as she pulled a crisp twenty from her wallet. “You were right, Thomas. I would never have believed it after what had happened last fall.”

      “Am I missing something here?” Wynter questioned, wondering what the bet was.

      “Not at all, my dear,” Miss Olivia smiled. “Pay no attention to us or Nelson.”

      “I’ll take Rosie and untack,” Wynter volunteered, but Miss Olivia shook her head.

      “Let Thomas do it, my dear. The old coot should earn his feed every now and then. I’d like to chat with you for a few minutes before you leave. Thomas tells me you have class soon.”

      “Yes, ma—Miss Olivia.”

      Thomas and Rosie disappeared into the barn. With regret, Wynter watched the mare go. She had enjoyed riding her. Rosie had plenty of talent, she just needed confidence.

      Olivia Rutledge put a hand on Wynter’s arm to draw her attention away from the mare. “Rosie is my mare, Wynter. She was born on my farm…the last foal out of my old hunt mare. Even as a foal, I saw she had potential, so I brought her over here to Thomas because I’ve known him for years, and I trust him. But so far, Rosie hasn’t lived up to our expectations. If Thomas trusts you to ride her, so do I. I want you to ride her this weekend in Raleigh.”

      Wynter longed to say yes, but she shook her head instead.

      “If the problem is money, dear, I’ll pay you to ride. There are two classes. One Friday evening and one Saturday evening.”

      “It’s not that, СКАЧАТЬ