Amber picked up her cuticle nippers. “I thought you knew how to ride.”
“I do. Sort of. I just haven’t done it in a while. I was good enough to do the rodeo queen patterns a million years ago, but I was just never that into it. I’m not Catie.”
“Catie’s a natural.”
“Totally. Did you hear she’s pregnant again?”
“Yeah, she stopped in yesterday and told me. I’m so happy for her and Chad.”
“Yeah, me too.” At least she wanted to be. But Catie’s pregnancy only reminded her of her own biological clock. Her baby sister would be a mother before she would. Not that she had any grand desire to be a mother. At least that’s what she kept telling herself.
Hell, how did I get on this subject?
“Can we get back to my riding?”
“Sure. You brought up Catie being pregnant.”
Oh yeah. “I know. But right now this riding thing is driving me nuts.”
“Riding is tough to learn, for sure, but there’s nothing like it. I love it myself.”
“Maybe you could teach me then.”
Amber laughed. “Me? Are you kidding? I can get around, but I’m not qualified to instruct anyone.”
Crap. Oh well. She’d approached a few local riding instructors before Chad led her to Rafe Grayhawk. They’d all turned her down flat. Course she hadn’t offered any of them a hundred bucks an hour, but they’d all seemed eager to tell her how they were too busy to teach the older Bay daughter how to ride a horse properly. Was she that difficult?
“Do I have a…reputation in this town?” she asked Amber.
Amber’s gaze was locked on Angie’s cuticles. Was she deliberately avoiding eye contact?
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“I mean…as being…difficult to work with, or something?”
Amber cleared her throat. “You’re not difficult with me. We get along great.”
“I know. I guess I mean… Oh heck, I don’t know what I mean.”
Amber placed Angie’s right hand into the little bowl of solution and grabbed her other. This time she didn’t look away. “Do you want me to be honest with you?”
“Of course.”
“You’re a friend to me as well as a client, so I don’t want this to hurt our relationship.”
“It won’t. I promise.”
“Okay.” Amber sighed. “People who get to know you generally like you. That’s not the problem.”
“What is, then?”
“Well, you don’t get to know a lot of people, for one thing. There are people you feel are…”
“Are what? What are you trying to say, Amber?”
“Let’s put it this way. Would we be friends if I weren’t friends with your sister? Would you have bothered getting to know me?”
“Of course. You’re the best manicurist Judy’s ever hired.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
“What do you mean then?”
Amber sighed. “Sure, you’d let me do your nails. That’s one thing. But would we hang out together during happy hour at The Bullfrog? Would we spend the day in Denver shopping?”
Angie bit her lip. Amber had a point. She’d never made friends with her manicurist before.
“And there’s another thing.”
God. “What?”
“No one wants to work for you.”
“What do you mean? You work for me.”
“I do your nails. Judy does your hair. We don’t teach you to ride.”
“I don’t see what the difference is.”
“We pamper you.” Amber let out a giggle. “You’re very good at being pampered. You won’t get any pampering learning to ride. Riding is hard work. Don’t get me wrong. I love it. The rewards are great. But you will not be pampered.”
Angie’s hackles rose. Who did Amber think she was? “It sounds like you’re saying I’m spoiled.”
Amber concentrated on the cuticles again. “You asked me to be honest, and you said it wouldn’t harm our relationship.”
“So you’re admitting it? You think I’m spoiled?”
“I think you’re a great person. I like you. We’re friends, remember?”
“So I’m not spoiled?”
Amber started filing, still averting her gaze. “Let’s put it this way. Remember a couple months ago when Judy added a touch too much red to your hair color?”
Angie remembered well. She’d looked like Elmo. “Yeah, I vaguely recall it.”
“You called her incompetent and threatened to put her out of business. Never mind that she fixed your hair that same day, free of charge.”
Warmth flooded to Angie’s cheeks. Yes, I overreacted. “I apologized for that.”
“I know you did, and Judy’s still happy to have your business.”
“She’s the best hairdresser in this town.”
“That she is. You knew it then, too.”
Angie stiffened in her chair. “But demanding excellence doesn’t mean I’m spoiled.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Amber agreed. “But throwing a fit when you don’t get it does.”
Did I really throw a fit? She sighed. Yeah, I did. Poor Judy. It’s a wonder she still lets me back in her shop.
Determination gripped her. The town of Bakersville would see a new Angelina Bay. She’d learn to ride as well as Catie, and she’d do it without throwing a single tantrum.
Well, she’d try, anyway.
“Do you know a ranch hand at Catie’s named Rafe Grayhawk?”
Amber smiled. “Yeah, I’ve met him a few times. He’s a hottie.”
Hottie? That term didn’t do Rafe Grayhawk justice. Angie hadn’t been able to take her eyes off the tall, broad-shouldered man. The streams of sunlight through the boards on the barn ceiling had cast little highlights of indigo onto his long black hair. He’d worn a checkered shirt rolled up at the sleeves, and those forearms as they curried the horse…so sexy. His jeans clung just loosely enough over what she knew must be a fantastic butt. Yeah, she was a butt girl.
Give me a nice tight ass over pecs any day.
Though she didn’t mind pecs. What might Rafe look like without his shirt?
She imagined he smelled like the musky outdoors. Course, she hadn’t been able to smell anything but horse this morning.
She shook her head to clear it. Gorgeous as he was, he’d been a jerk. Who did he think he was? I am his employer’s sister, for God’s sake.
“He’s going to teach me to ride.”
“Wow, really? He gives lessons?” Amber smiled as she massaged Angie’s right forearm. “Come to think of it, I’m getting a little rusty. Could use a refresher course.”
Something sharp cut into Angie’s gut. A twinge of…what? Jealousy? Not possible. She had no interest in Rafe Grayhawk. He was way beneath her. So why did it bother her that Amber indicated an interest in him? Of course Amber was interested. She was female, she was straight, and she had a pulse. Who wouldn’t be attracted to Rafe Grayhawk?
“You don’t need a refresher course, rodeo queen. You ride great.”
“Still, to spend some time in the company of that hunk—”
“He charges a hundred dollars an hour.” That ought to get her.
“A hundred an hour? He must be damn good.”
He’d better be.
She’d find out in the morning.
Early in the morning.
Chapter Two
“You’re late.”
Angie glanced at her watch. “By seven minutes. It’s still the butt crack of dawn.”
“Get here on time tomorrow or we’re done.” Rafe eyed her up and down. “Jeans, good for a start. Get some riding tights with leather seat patches. Your posterior will thank you.”
“My posterior? I have ridden before, you know.”
“When? For the rodeo queen shindig?”
God, that was fourteen years ago now. She grinned. She’d been crowned Bakersville’s youngest rodeo queen at a mere eighte
en years of age. But she’d ridden since then. Hadn’t she?
“I guess it’s been a while.”
“Then trust me, you need the leather padding.” He continued his assessment. “Boots—good, but clearly not broken in. Don’t you have any work boots?”
“These are my work boots.”
He shook his head. Was that an eye roll? He’d better learn to take her seriously.
“That looks like a nice shirt, too. It’s fine for riding, but I suggest an older one tomorrow. You’re going to get dirty.”
Dirty? Angie’s shirt was a western-style red cotton. She’d been sure it was the right choice. “So you want me to dress like trash, is that it?”
“Call it what you want, but you’ll be happy enough when your clothes are slick with sweat and grime.”
“I do not sweat.”
He laughed. He actually laughed at her!
“Honey, when I’m done with you, you’ll be sweatin’ like a pig.”
Like a pig? How rude. “I’m not your honey.”
“Yeah, yeah. What about a helmet?”
“A helmet? Seriously? I’m not a complete beginner.”
“Have you ridden this horse before?”
“No.”
“Then you need a helmet. Have one tomorrow, honey.”
“I said I’m not your honey.” She stomped her foot to make her point and then shuffled it back. No need to get her dander up. Calling her honey was not likely to be the only thing Rafe did to tick her off today.
“You’re right about that one. I suppose we should get started. By the end of today, you’ll wish you’d gone for older clothes. Your horse is in the third stall from the left. Check her out, and then get her ready to ride.”
Angie walked to Belle’s stall. She was a beautiful mare, black as midnight with one lone white spot on her forehead. Angie ran her hand through her sleek mane. It was a little knotted. The horse looked fine, though. She walked back to join Rafe.
“She looks great. She’s ready to ride.”
Rafe’s head tilted back and a boorish guffaw emerged from his throat. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he laughed.
“What is it now?” Yes, her tone was a bit indignant. Why shouldn’t it be?
“It’s six o’clock in the morning. She hasn’t been groomed yet. You do know how to groom her, don’t you?”
Groom her? The hands did the grooming at Cha Cha, her parents’ ranch. At least she thought they did. Didn’t they?
“Isn’t that your job?”
“My job? Your sister comes in every morning and grooms Ladybird. In fact, I expect her any time now.”
“I’m not my sister. I think she prefers horses to people sometimes. She thought she was a horse till she was about five years old.”
That got another smile out of Rafe. Clearly, he was fond of Catie. But back to business.
“I’m paying you to teach me to ride, not groom.”
“I’m paid to take care of Chad and Catie’s horses. Belle is yours. She’s not going anywhere till you get her properly groomed. Start with her feet.”
“Her feet?”
“Christ, am I going to have to teach you everything?”
Her dander rose. Smoke might ooze out her ears any minute now. “For a hundred bucks an hour you ought to teach me to fly to the moon.”
“Heck, I’d launch the rocket myself. Jesus. Come on.” He walked toward Belle’s stall.
She had no choice but to follow. Daddy had been adamant about her learning to ride. Why now? She had no idea. She’d been set to inherit her half of Bay Crossing, their ranch on the western slope, for over a decade. She’d found that out during her ill-fated engagement to Chad’s brother Zach years ago. Zach was now happily married with a four-year-old rug rat, while Angie’s biological clock whispered ticktock, ticktock.
She let out a breath. Not going there right now. She had horse feet to…what? Clean? Guess she’d find out.
She entered the stall and found Rafe running his left hand down Belle’s left foreleg. “Up,” he said, and Belle lifted her foot. In his other hand he held what looked like a toothbrush with a metal hook attached. “This is a hoof pick. Use it to pry out any rocks or dirt in the hoof.” He examined the foot. “I don’t see any rocks. There’s a little dirt.” He brushed the hoof and a few small clumps of dirt fell onto the floor. “Come closer and look.”
Angie knelt down next to Rafe.
“Her hoof looks good, but see here?” He pointed to the part not covered by the horseshoe. “The sole is more tender than the outside of the hoof. This darkish part is the frog. Belle’s is healthy. This is what it’s supposed to look like, so if the color changes or she has any lacerations, no matter how tiny, take note. A horse can’t do its job if its feet are sore.”
“Its job?”
“Carry you around while you learn to ride, of course.” He put the hoof down. “Your turn. Her right foreleg. Come on.”
Angie hedged a little. “What if she kicks me?”
“You plan to do anything to make her kick you? You just saw me do it. She’s used to having her feet cleaned. Run your left hand down her leg so you can brush out the foot with your right.”
“I’m left-handed.”
“Fine. Just do the opposite then. Here, I’ll show you.”
He took her right hand, and a tingle shot up her arm. She jolted. She hadn’t felt anything like that in a long time. But Rafe Grayhawk? He was a god to look at, but not her type at all.
Belle’s foreleg was sleek and soft. “Up,” she said, as Rafe had, and miracle of miracles, Belle lifted her hoof. Angie brushed away some dirt and examined the sole and frog carefully. They looked identical to the first.
“See anything?” Rafe asked.
“No. She looks fine.”
“Good job. Now the hind legs.”
Angie repeated the process twice more and pronounced Belle’s hooves healthy.
“Now get the currycomb,” Rafe said. “You do know which one is the currycomb, right?”
“Yes, I know what a currycomb is.” She wasn’t a complete imbecile. She grabbed the round instrument and started on Belle’s left side, circling the brush in small movements through the horse’s coat.
“Very nice. You do know a little something.”
Yes, she knew how to curry. Her 4-H days hadn’t been a complete waste. After she became rodeo queen at eighteen, though, she’d left animal care to the hands. Belle stood still, snorting every now and then. “You like that, girl?”
“Most horses enjoy grooming if it’s done properly,” Rafe said. “Take a look at her body while you’re doing it. See if she has any injuries we should be aware of. Be sure to lighten your touch in the bony areas around her shoulders so you don’t hurt her. Here, let me show you.”
He took the currycomb from her, and this time, despite the smell of barn, she caught a quick whiff of his scent. Leather, the outdoors, and something unique that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Was it coconut? Couldn’t be. A chill feathered up her spine, but disappeared as quickly as it came.
What amazing forearms this man had. The sinewy muscles contracted as he showed her how to brush Belle’s bonier areas.
“Gentle, see? She likes that.”
“Let me try.” Angie took the comb from him. Was she actually enjoying this process?
After currying came combing out the tangles in Belle’s mane. The poor thing did have some knots. She started at the bottom, disentangling the strands until she could move upward. She had a flashback of combing through her sister’s long hair when Catie was six and Angie was seventeen. Catie used to scream bloody murder. Belle took it a lot better as Angie detangled her tail.
Next, Rafe showed her how to use the body brush to get what the currycomb missed. Belle seemed to enjoy the long, sweeping strokes. What the currycomb had loosened, this brush swept away. Angie sneezed when some dirt flew up her nose.
“Here.” Rafe handed her a red bandana. “Get used to sneezing in
here, especially if you’re sensitive to dust and pollen. Horses carry all kinds of things in their coats.”
She wiped her nose and face. Grime dirtied the crimson of the bandana. She looked down. Rafe had been right. She was filthy. She shook her head. Older clothes tomorrow.
With the finer bristled finishing brush, Rafe showed Angie how to clean the horse’s face, ears, and throat, and then do the body again to give her a radiant sheen.
“Time for grooming spray?” Angie asked.
“No grooming spray.” Rafe took the finishing brush from her and examined her job. “It’s not necessary, and it sometimes makes the coat slick. Not a good thing for beginning riders.”
“I’m not exactly a beginner.”
“You’re close enough. Personally, I don’t think horses need any of those products on their hair or skin. I don’t like hoof ointment either.” He handed her a damp sponge. “Clean around her eyes and muzzle. How do her eyes look?”
“They look fine to me.”
“No tearing or anything?”
“Nope.”
“Good. Belle seems to be in excellent health. She’ll be ready to ride tomorrow.”
Excuse me? “Tomorrow? What do you think I got up for today?”
“For a lesson. You learned how to groom your horse before a ride. Sorry, but it took a little longer than I expected. I figured you’d know how to groom. I’ve got stock to feed and then a couple errands I’m running for Chad.”
“But how am I supposed to learn to ride if you don’t—”
“Teach you? Honey, I taught you what any good instructor would on your first lesson. Be here at six sharp tomorrow. We’ll get her groomed faster, and I’ll have more time to get you up on that horse. Today’s lesson is over.”
“But—”
Rafe walked out of the barn, his jeans loosely moving around the curves of his muscular ass. Left her standing in Belle’s stall, the sponge still in her hand, watching him walk away.
And wondering what that ass looked like without the covering.
* * *
“Hey, Annie.” Rafe entered the office of Annie McCray, the town veterinarian and the wife of the oldest McCray brother, Dallas.
Taming Angelina: The Temptation Saga: Book Four Page 2