25
Zoë caught her lip between her teeth in the manner that drove Ethan wild. If Skip hadn’t been present, he might have taken her there, right in front of the barn, in broad daylight. He had no doubt the hands had figured out he and Zoë were sleeping together, but knew they’d be smart enough to keep their opinions to themselves. It was a consolation, considering how often he’d cautioned them about drama on the ranch, and while it was hypocritical of him to have embarked on a relationship that could lead to the very drama he insisted he wouldn’t put up with, he was grateful none of the men would comment on it. Well, Skip probably would, but hadn’t yet. So far, he’d just shot Ethan a few smirks when Zoë was around, as he had a few moments ago when she joined the pair.
“I don’t know about this,” she said quietly as her eyes scanned the saddled horse that stood beside her. She seemed apprehensive but not scared, and he again wondered what had frightened her enough to run to Bison Bluffs.
“You’re the one who said you were bored and wanted to do something new,” he reminded her.
“Yeah, but suddenly working on the gardens seems like a better idea.”
“You’re not getting out of it that easily,” he replied with a grin. “Skip already saddled Dottie, she’s ready to go.”
Her eyes ran over the horse again as her nose wrinkled up. “She’s so big.”
“She’s one of the smaller girls here,” Skip informed her. “She’s also a great horse to ride, and perfect for you. She’s got the smoothest gait you could imagine. Dottie’ll take care of you, don’t you worry about that.”
Agreeing with Skip wholeheartedly, he appreciated the older man’s choice of Dottie for Zoë’s first ride. In addition to her smooth movements, she was undoubtedly the gentlest and calmest horse Ethan owned.
Zoë’s sudden laughter had him following her sightline to where Butthead was, his forelegs on the ground, his hindquarters sticking up, staring at a small rock. When he began barking at it, Ethan laughed too.
“If stupid were a talent, that dog would be considered gifted,” Skip remarked with a slight shake of his head.
“Yep,” Ethan agreed, “he could throw himself on the ground and miss.”
“If he had an idea, it would die of loneliness.”
“He’s got an IQ of two, but it takes three to grunt.”
Zoë bent over, her arms wrapped around her belly. “Stop it, both of you. I can’t take anymore.” Slowly she regained her composure and stood straight again to wipe under her eyes as she chuckled. “Do you two just sit around coming up with those?”
“Yep,” they answered in unison.
“That poor dog. You two are awful.” Her chastisement had him grinning again. With flushed cheeks and bright eyes, she looked just as she did after they had sex and he averted his eyes, lest he get aroused.
“C’mon,” he urged. “The day’s a-wasting.”
After climbing the steps of the mounting block, she slipped her foot into a stirrup and grabbed hold of the saddle horn. On the other side of the horse, he stood close to help her, but she swung her leg over the saddle and sat in it like a pro. Her movements were so graceful, even doing something she’d never done before, they astounded him. Again. Just about everything she did impressed him, in or out of the bedroom. As Skip adjusted the stirrups for Zoë, Ethan mounted his horse.
“Okay, you’re good to go,” Skip informed Zoë as he handed her the reins.
She took them and then looked to Ethan. “Don’t I need some instruction? Like on how to make her go or stop?”
“She follows voice commands. For right now though, don’t worry, she’ll follow my horse. Just hang on, relax, and enjoy the ride.”
“Because if I don’t relax she’ll smell my fear?”
He chuckled. “No, but she can feel your tension, and, if you’re all stiff, you won’t move with her. Seriously, just relax. You’ll be fine. We’ll start out walking and if you don’t want to go any faster than that, it’s fine. It’s your first time, so just get used to the feel of being on a horse. Okay?” She nodded, and he looked to Skip. “We won’t be long.”
“There’s no rush,” Skip returned with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “You two enjoy your time together.”
When Ethan shot him a warning look, Skip laughed and turned away. After calling Butthead to his side, he walked toward the barn. As Ethan turned back to Zoë, he saw the bemused look on her face. She’d clearly heard Skip’s reference to them being a couple and found it funny. Ethan hadn’t. He commanded his horse forward and Dottie fell in line beside him. Glancing at Zoë, he thought she looked apprehensive but not scared. Her eyes roved over Dottie and then met his.
“What kind of horse are these? They’re both the same breed, aren’t they?”
“Yep. They’re Canadians.”
“That’s a thing?”
“Absolutely. Sawyer breeds them. They’re actually a very old breed. The country was quite literally built on their backs.”
“Wow, that’s amazing. I don’t know how I’ve never heard of them before.”
“Well, horses aren’t used for work as much as they once were,” he replied. “Ranches like this one are disappearing fast.”
“I think that’s sad. I’ve seen commercial beef farms and truly felt sorry for the animals, crammed into barns, never allowed outdoors. Your cattle have it good here.”
Nodding, he appreciated her compliment. Too many farms were downright cruel to the animals that supported their business. It was a sad reality of the times. Consumers demanded the lowest possible prices and the only way to ensure that was to cut corners, automate processes, and do it all in the smallest space possible. He was grateful his beef was in demand for high-end restaurants and discerning consumers, allowing him to run the ranch as it always had been, with hard work performed by people who cared for the welfare of the livestock. Aware he was part of a dying breed, he’d continue to operate the way he wanted for as long as he could. If the day came when the ranch wouldn’t sustain its current setup, he’d sell the place before resorting to the practices he despised.
“What’s your horse’s name?” she asked.
“Horton.”
She snickered. “Really? Or are you pulling my leg again?”
“No, it’s Horton.”
“Okay. Why on earth did you name your horse Horton?”
Shaking his head a bit, he waved a hand. “Nah, never mind, it’s silly.”
“Are you blushing?” she asked, an incredulous tone to her voice.
He was but not with the embarrassment she obviously assumed he felt. More accurately, he was flushed, wanting to relate the story to her, but knowing he shouldn’t. He’d related too many personal things to her and never received any stories in return.
“Come on,” she persisted, “spill it.”
“Fine. When I was little, I loved a certain book. My mom read it to me over and over, no matter how many times I asked for it.”
A huge smile spread across her lips. “It wouldn’t have been Horton Hears a Who! would it?” He merely grinned in return and she laughed loudly, finishing up with a loud snort. “Oh my God! That’s so sweet. Who would’ve ever thought the big tough cowboy would have a soft spot for Dr. Seuss?”
“Had,” he corrected, causing her to snicker.
He wished he could relate the entire story to her, how at the time he’d gotten Horton, his mother had been facing a health scare. Thankfully, the lump in her breast turned out to be benign, but he’d been consumed with worry for her the day he and Skip went to pick the horse up. For some reason, that particular memory had plagued his mind, of his mother tirelessly reading the same damn book every night, sometimes twice, for months on end. That was the whole story behind Horton’s name, but he couldn’t tell it, reminding himself he needed to keep his guard around her.
“Sawyer hates the name,” he informed her.
“Well, I imagine he gives the horses long names with their lineage included right?”
“Yep. It’s all a bit hoity-toity. Sawyer breeds great working horses, and that’s enough for me. I buy them, bring them here, they get normal names, and go to work. End of story.”
He glanced ahead of them, ensuring he was exactly where he wanted to be, an extremely well-travelled area that would assure a stable ride for her. “Want to try a trot? These horses are great trotters and, as Skip said, Dottie is a smoother ride than most.”
“Okay,” she agreed, seemingly more at ease in the saddle now.
As the horses increased their speed, he watched her carefully, looking for any sign she couldn’t move with Dottie. He was hardly surprised to see how well she took to the trot, how easily she moved with the horse, as if she’d been riding for years. She truly was sensational.
“Wanna try a canter?”
“That’s not a full-out gallop is it?”
“No,” he replied, adding a devilish grin, “it’s not a gallop, that’s why it’s called a canter.”
“Funny. Okay, as long as it’s not too fast.”
Nudging Horton faster, Dottie followed suit and he again watched Zoë. Once more, she adapted to the increase in speed with ease, like a life-long rider, causing him to wonder if there was anything she couldn’t do. Besides deal with whatever made her run, that was. It stung that she wouldn’t trust him with her problem, or ask for his help. Then again, she’d made it perfectly clear she didn’t want anything more than sex from him. He supposed it was for the best, despite the feelings for her that bloomed within him. It was in both their best interest for him to stifle that shit now, before his heart foolishly overrode his head. She was much too aloof to trust with his heart.
After a few minutes, he slowed Horton back to a trot and then turned to head back to the barn, and Dottie smoothly followed Horton’s every move. As much as he enjoyed the time away from the others with Zoë, he didn’t want to push her on her first ride. She wasn’t used to it and undoubtedly wouldn’t appreciate a sore butt. Mind you, he’d gladly massage it for her if it did occur. Likely, he’d do anything at all she wanted in the bedroom. He smiled thinking, about some of their wilder escapades. She turned a sexy smile on him, making his heart race. She was so damn perfect. Why didn’t she want more than sex from him? Keep it physical, Collins. Yep, that was the smart thing to do. Too bad it was getting harder to heed that advice.