Christmas With The Cowboy. Tina Radcliffe

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      “Don’t thank me just yet.” She lowered her voice. “You should know that Mick is one of our more difficult kids. He wears an attitude most of the time. When it comes to lessons, well, he’s nervous in the saddle. Then he freezes up, gets defensive and can’t hear a word you’re telling him.”

      “And the horse?”

      “We put him on Grace. My girls could ride Grace if I let them, but Mick hasn’t mastered proper saddling, much less riding.”

      “How long has he been taking lessons?”

      “Not long. He and Benjie arrived at the ranch at the end of the summer. City boys, in and out of foster homes.”

      “Thanks for the heads-up.”

      “No problem.” She gave his leg a fleeting glance as she headed to another stall.

      “My knee is fine,” he called.

      “Fine is a relative word,” she mumbled to herself.

      Stubborn and prideful man. He wouldn’t admit he was in pain and he refused to discuss the injury. Maybe Dutch could make some headway. The old cowboy had a silver tongue and a gift for weaseling information.

      An hour later, with Benjie’s lesson completed, Emma instructed the boy to head in to groom his horse before dinner. She led her own mare to the pen fence to observe Zach and Mick.

      Mick finished adjusting the stirrups and turned to Zach, who stood several feet away, allowing the horse and rider to bond. “Done,” Mick called.

      Zach approached and circled Grace, carefully checking all aspects of the tack job the young rider had completed.

      “Nice job, Mick,” Zach said. “You groomed the horse, and the saddle is in place. Looks to me like you really know what you’re doing.”

      Mick beamed for a moment then he stole a peek at his wristwatch. A frown darkened his face. “It took us so long.”

      “Are we in a rush?”

      Mick shrugged his thin shoulders. “I guess not.”

      “This is not about clock watching, it is about learning how to do the job correctly. Grace’s life and yours depend on it.”

      “Okay.”

      “Yes, sir,” Zach corrected.

      “Yes, sir.”

      “Give Grace a nice soft rub on her nose and talk to her, real quiet.”

      “I already did that.”

      “Can’t ever give an animal too much loving. You’re building a long-term relationship here.”

      Emma smiled at the words. He was so right. Zach might have spent the last twelve years in the navy, but he still remembered his cowboy roots.

      Moments later, Zach nodded and gave Mick a thumbs-up. “You’re ready to get on the horse.”

      Mick swallowed and his face paled. “But what if she bucks me?”

      “Grace is your friend. Give her a chance. You trust her, right?”

      He chewed his lip in thought before answering. “Maybe. But what if I fall off while I’m trying to get on?”

      Zach raised his hands and stepped closer. “I’m right here. I’ll catch you.” He met Mick’s worried gaze. “You’re just going to sit in the saddle today. That’s all. Nothing to it.”

      Mick didn’t appear comforted by the words.

      “Do I look like I can catch you?” Zach asked.

      “Yes, sir, but I don’t want to look stupid.” Mick frowned yet again, this time with a glance over at Emma.

      “I hear you.” Zach pivoted around on his boot and narrowed his eyes. “Would you please excuse us, Miss Emma?”

      “Oh, sure. Yes. Of course. Sorry.” Embarrassed, she turned away with the mare and headed inside to untack the horse.

      Ten minutes later, the clop, clop of a horse plodding along on the stable floor had her peeking over the stall gate.

      Zach offered a nod of acknowledgment as he and Grace walked down to the last stall on the left.

      Emma took a deep breath. “I’m sorry for interrupting your lesson.”

      “No problem. You know how it is. He’s a kid and he’s terrified he’ll humiliate himself in front of a beautiful woman.”

      “Beautiful woman?” she murmured.

      “Look in the mirror lately?”

      “I...” She cleared her throat and concentrated on the smooth velvet coat of the horse. “Well, yes, but usually what I see is the mother of twins.”

      “Look again.”

      “So how did you do?” she asked, letting the comment sail past her for analysis at a later time.

      “Are you going to harass me about my knee again?”

      When her hand slipped midstroke and the brush clattered to the ground, the chestnut mare snuffled an objection. “I’m talking about Mick,” she clarified.

      Minutes passed without a response.

      Emma peeked over the stall, but couldn’t see Zach. “Come on. Aren’t you going to share?”

      “I didn’t realize you were waiting for a report,” he called.

      “Mick’s been challenging since he arrived and I’ve had a few therapy sessions with him. Naturally, I’m curious.”

      “The lesson went well. Mick will be riding in no time.”

      “Really?”

      “Yeah. I’m going to talk to Travis about taking over his lessons.”

      “So what did you do?”

      “Can’t say I did anything new. Went slow and acknowledged his fear. You’re the therapist, you know the drill.”

      “Yes, but what did you do that Travis didn’t?”

      “Probably nothing. Maybe I got through to him because I can relate to this kid.”

      “Oh?” Emma cleaned off the brush and currycomb in her hand and gave the horse a pat to let him know they were done.

      “Yeah. You might say we have a lot in common.”

      “Might?” She patted the horse again, checked the water and feed before latching the stall behind her.

      “Yeah, СКАЧАТЬ