This Place: Holmes Crossing Book 3 by Aarsen Carolyne

Author:Aarsen, Carolyne [Aarsen, Carolyne]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9780994049834
Publisher: Misty Ridge Publishing
Published: 2015-11-17T05:00:00+00:00

* * *

There were three horses tied up by the corral.

As we came nearer, the snow squeaking under our feet, a small flash of excitement flickered through me. I was going riding, after all.

When Duncan had said that he was just saddling one horse, I knew that this trip was strictly for Celia, but I had nurtured a secret hope that we would all go riding.

Now it looked as though my wish was happening after all, in spite of me trying to be all polite.

Duncan was tightening the cinch on the last horse as we came near. He looked up, his eyes shaded by his cowboy hat, but not his smile. And my previous flicker hummed into a faint glow.

This guy…

Was trouble, I reminded myself. I couldn’t get distracted. My focus was Celia, not flirting with this ruggedly handsome cowboy.

"This one is for Celia," Duncan was saying, as he pointed out a dark-brown one. "Her name is Thistle."

"Not a promising name," I joked, deflecting my ever-changing feelings around this guy into lame jokes.

"She's called that because she was born by a patch of thistles. I spent weeks pulling leftover prickles out of my legs and arms after we found her." This netted me another lazy grin, which only served to stoke the glow.

"She's beautiful," Celia said, her voice full of the awe that young girls everywhere seem to hold for horses.

"I'll help you on." Duncan reached down for her.

Celia wasn't light, but Duncan grabbed her by the waist and settled her on the animal as if she weighed no more than thistledown itself.

"Just hold onto the saddle horn," Duncan advised as he helped her feet into the stirrups.

"That's a little saddle." I was surprised that it fit her so well.

"Used to be Francine's." A light note of melancholy tinged his voice, and I felt an answering thrum of sympathy.

"I imagine we'll keep bumping up against that over and over," I told him, brushing his arm in a gesture of empathy.

He released his breath on a sigh that echoed my own sorrow. But when he looked at me I saw something else in his haunted expression. Something that hinted at a deeper pain.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

But he simply shrugged off my question, patted Thistle, and looked up at Celia.

"You feeling good up there?"

She nodded, and the wide grin on her face made me thankful we had decided to do this. She looked happier than she had since I first saw her, eyes bright and cheeks already pinking up in the chilly winter air.

"I'll help Aunty Miriam on her horse, and then we can get going," Duncan said.

Celia nodded, one mittened hand on the saddle horn, the other clutching the ever-present Jane.

Duncan ran his hand over the horse's rump as he walked to where another one was tied up, next to Thistle.

"This one is Bess,” he said, pointing to the palomino. "Climb on and I'll adjust the stirrups."

"She's awfully large," I said, a thread of concern tightening around my chest. I had ridden before, but I was sure the horses at my foster mother's farm were a lot smaller.

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