Riding for Love (A Western Romance) (10 page)

Disappointment washed over him when he noticed the other trainers doing the same for their students. But, man, having her hands running behind his ears, under his chin while checking the fit, had him sweating again. At this rate, between Eve’s closeness and his fear of horses, he’d lose ten pounds by lunch. Too bad choosing a riding crop only involved removing one from the rack; no one-on-one touching there. They moved to his assigned horse.

“Today, Dent, Della’s tack is already in her stall,” Eve said when they stopped by the mare. “After we’re done this afternoon, I’ll show you where to put them away, and tomorrow you’ll be responsible for getting the necessary gear.”

“What if I forget what I need?” he asked, already worried his fear would override his natural ability to memorize most things in a short amount of time.

Eve’s low, sexy laugh, usually sending shivers down Dent’s spine and low into his belly, didn’t work its magic this time. Being this close to his horse made his nerves trample over any sex receptors.

“I can do this, I can do this,” he mumbled, moving behind Eve.

“Dent?” She touched his forearm. “This isn’t necessary.”

Relief swept over him like waves over the sandy beach near his place in California. Maybe she would simply fall into his arms at his wish to ride a horse. “It isn’t?”

“No, but I appreciate the effort. Maybe this will get you over your fear of horses once and for all. Besides, think how much fun this is going to be,” she added, her eyes twinkling.

Like waves crashing into the breakwater during a storm, he was thrown back to reality. She was goading him and didn’t think he had it in him to do this. Hell,
he
didn’t think he did. Now he had something to prove to both of them. For at least the hundredth time since coming up with this hare-brained scheme, he reminded himself why. “Lead on, oh fearless leader,” he said.

Eve grabbed the bridle from a hook. “I’m glad one of us is fearless.”

Dent laughed. He’d forgotten her dry sense of humor. Maybe keeping up some light banter would make things easier.

“So, what do I do first?”

“Della is already wearing her halter, so I’ll show you how to use it later.”

“That’s the thing going over her ears, kinda like a woman wearing a halter top, but not as sexy. Right?”

“No one ever said a horse’s ears were sexy, Dent.” She smiled.

“You wearing a halter would be,” he said, eyeing her chest.

“All right, enough,” she said seriously, but with a hint of a grin at the corner of her mouth. “It’s been a few years, but do you remember the parts of the bridle?”

He took the bridle and turned it over and over. “Let’s see. This is the bit, which if I recall goes into the horse’s mouth, so hopefully she won’t bite me. Right?”

“So far so good,” Eve said, grinning.

“These are the reins, which I hold on to for dear life, so I don’t fall off and make a complete ass of myself.”

“That would be a crime, wouldn’t it? Although you seem to be doing a pretty good job without even getting on a horse.”

“Thanks. Now where are those little square thingies they call blinders?”

“Why would you want those?”

He contemplated Eve for a moment. “Forget the horse, maybe I should wear a pair.”

Eve frowned. “Why?”

“Because your beauty practically blinds me, Eve.”

She was silent so long he thought he didn’t hear him. She laughed and punched him in the arm.

“Oh, Dent. I missed your sense of humor, which you’re using to cover your fear, aren’t you?”

Dent hung the bridle on the hook. “Yup, but I wasn’t joking. You are a beautiful woman, Eve.”

Eve glanced down and scraped the toe of her boot back and forth across the barn floor. Man, now he embarrassed her. When she looked up at him, tears shone in her eyes.

“Hey, forget I said that. Okay?”

“I can’t, Dent. You’re the only one to say that to me.”

“Well, the other men you date are either blind or stupid.”

“There are no other men,” she said quietly, moving past him to grab a red and green striped blanket.

Dent took her arm and turned her to face him. “What did you say?”

She shrugged off his hand. “Nothing.”

Dent wanted to smile, but wisely refrained. What the hell was wrong with the men in this county? A warm, loving, sexy woman like Eve in their midst and not one had dated her? Well, except for the veterinarian, but even his mother had said he didn’t count.

“You said something, but say it again.”

Oh, crap
. Why on earth did she admit her lack of dating? Of all the stupid, idiotic, moronic things to say.

“Okay, so you heard me. That’s right, I don’t date. Happy?”

“Hell, no, I’m not happy.” He took off his helmet and forked his fingers through his hair. “Well, yeah, that does make me happy.”

Eve narrowed her eyes at him. “What?”

“Geez, Eve. I don’t know what I mean. Why?”

“Why, what?”

“Why haven’t you dated?”

Eve cocked one hip and stuck out her hand. “Number one,” she said, pressing one finger down. “I had my father and mother to contend with. Number two.” Another finger went down. “When you got married, I was the laughing stock of the school. Boys thought you got what you wanted from me. They didn’t want to date me, just have sex with me. Number three, my mother died, and Dad went to prison, leaving me no time to do anything but try to clean up the mess they left behind. Number four, I was too busy getting a college degree and working to pay attention to a love life, then I was too busy starting this place and trying to survive. Number six—”

“I get the picture,” Dent interrupted, pulling her hand down into his. “What about your vet friend, Max?”

Eve pulled her hand out of his. Man, the nerve of the man. “That is none of your damn business, Denton Johanson. You’re here to learn to ride a horse and nothing more.” She turned around and eyed the barn. “Besides getting me angry, all this gabbing has put us behind everyone else. Let’s get to work.”

Getting back on track was easier said than done. Thinking about Dent’s sense of humor, his gorgeous face, fantastic body, all the things distracting her since he came back to town needed to end. Fitting his helmet and the brief touches to his face were difficult. If she wasn’t careful, she’d let her impulses take over and plant a big one on his lips.

“The first thing you’re going to do is get to know your horse. I’m going to show you how to lead her.”

Eve opened the stall door and crooned to the mare. “Hi, girl. Look who’s here.” She turned to Denton, who hung back on the other side of the door. “C’mon, chicken. She won’t bite. Once we go outside, remember to approach a horse from the front or side where she can see you. Move slowly and quietly so you don’t startle her.”

“Slowly, quietly, don’t startle,” he muttered under his breath.

Eve smiled as he repeated her lessons. “Here, run your hand down her nose and under her muzzle.”

Denton didn’t respond, so Eve took his hand and moved it over the horse’s soft nose.

“Do I give her a treat or something, since she didn’t bite?”

Eve laughed, hoping to ease his nervousness. Tremors ran through him when she took his hand. The man was a total wreck. “No. You don’t want your horse to think you’ll give her a treat every time you come near her.” She moved Denton’s hand over Della’s forelock, down her neck, to her shoulder. “If you ever forget, she might become frustrated and try to bite.”

“Hell.” His voice quivered. “No treats. Can I take notes?”

“You’re doing well, Denton.” With her hand over his, guiding it over the horse, she felt him relax. “Talk to Della in soft, low tones. Don’t worry if she nods her head up and down, but if she rolls her eyes, step back.”

Denton’s hand trembled under hers. Not only did she not want him to startle Della, but the touch of his large, warm hand under hers sent messages from her brain clear down to her toes. Ones telling her maybe she should reconsider being angry. Damn. She needed to keep her mind on her job.

“Della is a mild-mannered horse. She’s used to having different people handle her, but even the tamest horse can become riled if startled. I’m giving you more of a general warning, so if you come in contact with someone else’s horse and any of these signs happen, you can protect yourself and Della.”

“Not going to happen,” Denton said. “I plan on sticking to Della like an accountant to his chair during tax season. Do you have any glue we can put in the saddle to keep me on?”

Eve smiled at his joke, but the fear in his eyes told her he wasn’t completely joking. Teaching Denton to ride was going to be a challenge. “Okay, keep running your hands down her withers and over her back. Horses love to be rubbed, like a massage for humans. Feel her relax?”

“Can I have a massage?” He never took his eyes from Della.

“Funny, Dent.” She removed her hand from his and stepped away. Oh, lord, now she had visions of running her hands down his back, easing his tense muscles.
Stop. Mind back on the job
. “Now I’m going to attach the rope and we’ll lead her out of the stall. Once we’ve led her around a bit, we’ll come back here and the real work will begin.”

Denton couldn’t believe he’d actually run his hands over a horse, led her from the barn and back again, put on the saddle cloth, and placed the saddle properly on her back. At each and every step was Eve, guiding his hands to show him the correct position of the tack. It took all of his concentration not to react to her constant touch. Several times her face was close enough to his. All he needed to do was turn his head and his lips would be pressed against her soft cheek or, better yet, her mouth. His own burned at the heady thought.

“Damn,” he muttered, wiping a horse-scented hand across his face.

“Denton, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He either needed to lighten things up or take his chances and plant a good one on her lips. The latter would probably get him a good swift kick in the pants, hopefully not from Della, so he’d better settle for the former.

He stood back, cupped his elbow with his other hand, and tapped his check. “Something seems wrong with this picture.”

“What?” Eve responded, eyes sweeping the area. “Nothing is wrong. You’re doing quite well for a petrified first-timer.”

“First of all, where are the prayers making sure I tightened the girth enough? I’d surely hate having the saddle slip around and find myself hanging upside down, looking at Della’s belly, as pretty as it may be.”

Eve slapped a hand over her mouth.

Denton pulled his lips tight. He pointed to the stirrup irons run up on the leathers, a place he knew darn well they were supposed to be so they wouldn’t flap against the horse’s side.

“Also, I may not be the tallest man on earth, but don’t you think those stirrups are up a little bit too high? Or do you plan for me to me ride like a jockey? Do you like your clients riding torture-style with their knees under their armpits?”

Eve laughed. “Well, in your case, I guess I want you to ride torture-style. Maybe if the saddle slips, it’ll keep your legs from hanging straight in the air. You’ll be rolled up in such a tight little ball people will think the bulge under Della’s belly is a foal.”

Her eyes sparkled and her smile was bright enough to make even Della blink. Denton caught his breath. Man, how stupid had he been in college? If things had been different, his enjoyment of this beautiful, intelligent woman would have been going on for years. But this was here and now, and he needed to make the most of his time at the ranch. He took a step toward her. She must have sensed something, possibly his raging libido overriding the smell of horse, because she took a step back, grabbed the bridle, and proceeded with the lesson.

“We need to get going, Denton, or everyone else will be done before we get started.”

With an inward sigh, he took the bridle and followed her instructions. When Eve stated she was satisfied he had everything done properly, he led the horse to the field.

“Now comes the best part,” Eve said, excitement shining through her eyes.

“What? We take her back into the barn and undo all this stuff?” Denton asked.

“No, you goof, you get on.”

“Now?”

“Yes, now,” she said, lowering down the stirrup irons. “Until you get used to getting on and off, we’re going to use a mounting block.”

“Don’t little kids use them?” he asked, looking around the field. Most everyone was already on board.

“No, it’s for beginners, like you.” Eve took in the scene around the fenced-in corral. “Everyone used one today. It’s easier for you, and the horse. Another time I’ll give you a leg up, but we’ll use this for now. Take Della close to the box and stop her like I showed you. Climb up the block, place your right hand on the pommel, put your left foot on the stirrup, swing your right leg over the saddle, and ease yourself into the seat.”

Taking a deep breath, he muttered her instructions step-by-step. “Man, oh, man,” he whispered once he was seated.

“You okay, Dent?”

“Hell, no. I’m a mile, no two miles, from the hard, unforgiving, collarbone-breaking, arm-smashing ground.”

“Breathe slow and deep, and sit quietly for a moment.”

Sitting quietly was fine, but breathing deeply, not so much.

Eve put her hand on his ankle.

“What, what are you doing?” He tried to keep the panic out of his voice, but failed miserably. He’d appreciate the touch more if he wasn’t so blasted scared.

Eve moved the mounting block. “I’m removing your foot from the stirrup to adjust for your leg length. Once we figure out the correct placement, you’ll need to remember the number of holes in case you are given a different horse. Relax your leg and let it hang. I promise you Della won’t go anywhere.”