How To Break A Cowboy (Savage Shorts) by Daire St. Denis

Author:Daire St. Denis
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2012-03-31T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Five

After washing up and changing my damp clothes, I meet Connor back at the stables. He’s got three horses saddled and is loading up food and drinks into some saddle bags.

“Hey hot stuff. Come meet Dixie.”

I laugh. Of course he would put me on Dixie. She’s a beautiful gentle-looking brown and white horse. She’s got a lighter colored mane and her eyes are liquid gold with long lashes. I fall in love with her immediately.

As I’m leading her out into the yard, Dallas shows up, wearing a different shirt and smelling suspiciously fresh with a hint of some spicy cologne. I can’t hide my grin. No one wears cologne on a trail ride unless they’re hoping for a little something more than time spent on a horse’s back.

I shake my head. I’m no different. I’m wearing my best set of undies, black lace. I guess Dallas isn’t the only one hoping for a little something-something from this trail ride.

“You remember how to mount?” Connor asks. “Or do you need my help?”

I laugh, thinking about the double entendre of his words. “I think I’ve got it,” I say with a huge smile as I hold onto the reins and the saddle horn and step my left foot up into the stirrup. Thank God for yoga, because I somehow manage to swing my right leg up and over the horse with more grace than expected.

“Good girl,” Connor says appreciatively. “It’s like you were born to ride.”

“I doubt that,” I say with a laugh. Even though I’ve taken immediately to Dixie, I’m still nervous. Riding always takes me a little bit to get used to. I stroke Dixie’s soft neck and whisper words of appreciation in her ear while we wait for Dallas to join us.

Within minutes the three of us are mounted and on our way. As we pass through the ranch lands, Connor points out different points of interest, the pasture of horses, the separate pastures for the bulls. They’re a bunch of new foals scampering around on spindly legs. By the time we’re on the trail toward Lookout Point, I’m feeling much more comfortable.

It’s a beautiful spring day in the Northern Rockies and the fields are covered in a dusting of fresh green grass. The buds on the trees have just popped, painting the foothills with a lime green paintbrush. Though the air is cool and fresh, the sun is shining and I lift my face to its warmth. Soon the trail becomes wooded as we reach the foothills on the eastern slopes of the Rockies. The air cools down and I’m struck by the fresh scent of earth, pine and new leaves. After about an hour, we stop in a clearing and dismount.

“Take Tess and the food up to the lookout, I’ll take care of the horses,” Connor says.

Slinging the food sack over his shoulder, Dallas holds out his hand. “Come on.”

After no more than a moment’s hesitation, I take his hand. Apart from his touch when he tied my hair back, it’s the first contact we’ve had.

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