The Wrangler's Last Chance. Jessica Keller

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      “How long are these lessons?” Easton’s words from one stall over made her jump.

      “Forty-five minutes. We’ll do fifteen minutes of review to make sure they remember everything from the last session since it’s been a few months, and five minutes of instruction for the emergency dismount. Then they’ll have twenty minutes to practice and work with their horses before cleanup,” Shannon answered.

      Carter came up to Memphis’s stall door and leaned his forearms across the top of it. “Emergency dismount? That’s tough stuff for new riders.” He tilted his head. “How old did you say these girls were?” Last night Shannon had considered him attractive, but today he was even more appealing in his cowboy hat.

      She fumbled with the brush in her hand. Memphis snorted.

      Appealing was dangerous. She would do well to remember that.

      She sucked in a sharp breath. The scents of straw and dust and dirt reminded her of what was important. The kids the ranch served. The ranch itself. Making her brothers proud again and carrying on her father’s legacy.

      “These girls are intermediate-level riders,” she said. “They’ve already passed our other courses.” She rested a hand on Memphis’s side. “And hopefully, they’ll never need to perform an emergency dismount, but I’d rather have them know how to do it than get into a dangerous situation on a horse someday and not know how to handle themselves.”

      “Makes sense.” Carter nodded as he straightened. “This is your gig. I trust your judgment.”

      He probably wouldn’t have said that if he knew her. Still, it was nice to hear.

      She forced a smile as she checked her watch. “Ten minutes until they arrive.” She peeked at Easton through the slats between the stalls. The redheaded teenager wore a baggy T-shirt over his thin frame. “Tell me you brought a coat this time? It’s cold out there.” Cooler than March in Texas normally was.

      Easton shrugged. “It’s not so bad.”

      Shannon’s heart twisted and she fought the urge to go into the next stall and hug the boy. Or shake some sense into him. But Easton had been in and out of foster care his entire life, so she knew he had little in the way of possessions and was often not dressed for the weather. They did so much to help kids like Easton at Red Dog Ranch but there were always more needs than resources.

      She tugged keys out of her jeans and tossed them to Carter, who impressively caught them one-handed. “Check the office at the front of the barn. My brothers are forever leaving coats in there.”

      Carter held the keys up by the keychain that was shaped like a rose. “Your brother gave me keys to the barn office, too. I work here, you know.”

      Right. Her cheeks warmed. Carter wasn’t one of the teen volunteers she had grown used to working alongside in the past year; he was the head wrangler. A paid staff member. Any more, the barn office would be more his domain than hers. She held out her hand, taking the keys back with a small apologetic half smile.

      As Carter turned to go, Shannon traced her fingers through the soft hairs on Memphis’s neck. He nickered. She sighed and rested her forehead on his shoulder for a second. She loved working with the girls and didn’t mind teaching lessons but she couldn’t help feeling as if something was missing from her life. The lessons would only last for a few weeks, and then, after that, what would she do? Lately, because they had been short on staff and she had always enjoyed working with the animals, she had been helping to take care of the horses and doing chores around the barn, but with a new head wrangler she would no longer be needed as much here, either. She would go back to floating around the ranch doing odd jobs.

      No set place. No set path.

      Rhett owned the place and was the director. His pregnant wife, Macy, was a codirector and she managed the ranch’s office and administrative affairs. Shannon’s twin, Wade, had recently taken over the position of head of maintenance, and his new wife, Cassidy, was the head chef. They all had defined roles. Purposes. The ranch would cease to function without any of them.

      But if Shannon up and left she wouldn’t be missed.

      The ranch would continue on just fine.

      For the first time in her life, Shannon wasn’t sure she belonged at Red Dog Ranch.

      A pit formed in her stomach. She wasn’t needed.

      A text made her phone buzz in her back pocket. She slipped her phone out to see a message from Wade: Cassidy and I have to run out. When you go to get Thanksgiving Dinner make sure Rhett goes with you.

      She rolled her eyes at Wade’s name for Wing Crosby and was trying to think of something clever to text back when the barn doors slammed open and six ten-year-old girls rushed in.

      For now, in this space, she was needed. She would pour herself into these girls and send them back to their homes full of praise and encouragement and the knowledge that people at Red Dog Ranch cared about them.

      Afterward she would have plenty of time to figure out where and if she still belonged here.

      Carter stood in the center of the corral and turned in a slow circle, trying to keep an eye on all the riders as they practiced their emergency dismounts. Clouds plodded through the sky like a herd of lazy cattle, but even then, it was much nicer out than he was used to for the time of year. March in the Northern states still brought plenty of snowstorms and frozen ground, but here in Texas it was already sunny and green. He had to cover a smile when he heard Shannon insist that all the girls zip up their coats.

      Shannon repositioned her horse so the kids could get another look at how to perform the dismount. “The most important thing is to get your feet clear of the stirrups.” She had told them they would only be practicing the dismount from a stopped position today but if they did well, then they could try it at a walk in the coming weeks. “Hands on the withers.” She put her hands on the horse’s neck. “Kick out of the stirrups, then jump, using the horse as a vault—really push away from him.” She perfectly kicked her legs out and vaulted away from her horse, landing to the left. Done demonstrating, she handed the reins to Easton. “Really launch yourself away from your horse. Remember, if you’re doing an emergency dismount it’s a bad situation to begin with, so you’re trying to get off and away.”

      Shannon stopped to give a struggling rider some extra attention, and within a few minutes she had the girl laughing and trying again. She caught Carter watching her and smiled as she crossed to where he stood. Her short blond curls bobbed with each step.

      “Are you sure you’re not cold?” Shannon jutted her chin toward him. As she stepped close he caught a whiff of the same vanilla-and-caramel smell that had lingered around her last night. So not just the cupcakes. Something she wore.

      He swallowed hard.

      Carter knew she was talking about his coat. When he hadn’t found an extra in the office, he had shed his, giving it to Easton. At first the boy had protested, but when Carter had insisted, he’d relented easily enough.

      “I’ll be just fine.” He realized that people who were used to the Texas weather might think it was cold out, but his Northern blood was feeling warm even in the jeans and button-down he had on. He should have СКАЧАТЬ