He jerked her stirrup and the snap of leather made her jump, although Hattie remained steady.
“Call Paul if necessary. I’ll check in later.”
Jackson growled as she stuck the phone in the leather holder on her belt, “Is that phone gonna bother you while you’re riding?”
“Not at all,” she said as she urged the horse away.
“We’ll see,” he said, walking toward his horse. “Trot, then lope Hattie around to warm her up good, and start getting used to riding on the seat of your pants. Sit on your back pockets.”
Alexandria shot a compliant smile at him as she tipped her hips back.
“Better. Now move into a trot…”
She had almost made it around the small arena when her phone rang again. It was Paul.
“What’s wrong with your voice?” he said impatiently.
“I’m loosening up by trotting,” she said, totally aware that Jackson was listening and rolling his eyes.
“I beg your pardon?” Alexandria could imagine Paul’s puzzled expression.
“Never mind, Paul; did Hesperia talk to you about—”
“Yes, that’s why I’m calling; you know very well we can’t go with the second bid.”
“Of course I know; I just wanted them to realize how serious we are, that we mean business. Surely you knew…”
“Reverse,” Jackson ordered.
“You can talk with them,” she continued, “but don’t allow them to bully us.”
“Come on, Miss Payne. A little more focus on the horse will work out better. I thought you were in a hurry to learn.”
“I’ll call you back later.” She flipped the phone shut and replaced it on her belt. “I am really good at multi-tasking, Mr. Morgan,” she said as she trotted a perfect half circle and reversed direction. Her phone rang three more times over the course of the next hour. Each time Jackson gritted his teeth and became grouchier.
“Stop. This isn’t going to work,” he said, marching to her as she halted after the phone rang again.
“What are you talking about? I thought I used my legs well on the last couple of circles.”
“It’s not your legs; it’s that infernal cell phone.” He slipped it from her belt and threw it over the arena fence where it tumbled down the hillside and was lost in tall grass and bushes.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m putting your mind where it should be. On the horse and on what I tell you.”
Alexandria glared.
“Now that we’ve wasted most of the day with you talking on the phone like a teenager in heat…”
She stepped off Hattie and stomped toward him. “Most teenagers aren’t responsible for a multi-million-dollar company, and most teenagers don’t have hundreds of people who rely upon them for their salary.”
Jackson forced a smile. “No comment about being in heat, Miss Payne?”
“You’re right; this may not work out.” Her legs were jelly, her back ached, her calves were raw, and she was furious because no matter how she tried to keep things business-as-usual, he could turn her thoughts any way he wanted. “You and I may not be compatible.”
He tipped his head and raised one brow in thought. She hoped he wasn’t going to call her bluff. Alexandria was certain he needed money, and she was certain she didn’t have the time to find another trainer.
“Look,” he said after a long pause. “If you get rid of that phone, this will work. You just can’t concentrate a bit at a time. Everything between you and the horse has to flow, and every interruption will keep you from feeling or knowing something.”
Make him think he’s winning, she thought. “OK. No phone while I’m riding, but on the ground, you can’t complain.”
“Deal. Now get back on and let’s finish up.”
He put her right back on the fence at a trot and explained a rollback as a quick reverse with no stop. Over and over, he’d told her to sit back, but the first time she tried to execute the rollback, Hattie turned out from under her with surprising speed; Alexandria felt herself heading for the ground, shoulder first.
She hit hard and when she sat up, Jackson hadn’t moved from the middle of the arena. Hattie stood staring at her as if to say, “What happened to you?” Alexandria knew she had a fair amount of arena dirt on her shirt and inside of it. Her cell phone rang from its resting place outside the arena in the grass.
Jackson shook his head and stomped toward her. “Why don’t we call it quits for today?”
She struggled to her feet. “I can—”
“No. We’re done for today.” He stopped. “Your legs need a break. You’ll likely be stiff as a board tomorrow anyway. Cool Hattie off and put her up while I get started feeding. Oh, yeah, go find your phone when you’re done.”
He turned and walked toward the gate. Hattie nuzzled her. Alexandria bit back any comment and started walking the mare. There was more to cutting than she’d thought, and there certainly was more to Jackson Morgan than she’d thought.
Jackson was frustrated as he busied himself with getting the feed buckets set up for the barn. He must have been crazy to agree to this idiotic plan. There had to be another way to get the eighty-five hundred dollars he needed. After a whole month of Alexandria Payne, he might be ready for the lunatic asylum. He’d never met a woman who could irritate him quite as quickly as she did. It was obvious she thought money was the answer to everything and that she also thought he was for sale.
He loaded a bale of hay on the four-wheeler and drove toward the pasture to feed a small pen of calves. If he succeeded in teaching her it would be a miracle—so why did he agree? Because of the eighty-five hundred dollars he owed, that’s why, he reminded himself. Because he was not going to owe any man, woman, child, or organization, that’s why. He opened the gate and threw flakes of hay with a vengeance.
Done, he sat down and listened to the calves milling around him, munching as they moved. He prided himself on being a practical man, and the practical thing to do was to cowboy up and fulfill his part of the bargain.
How bad could it get in a month? What kind of a man was he if he let one little woman get to him? Ev always said he was more hermit than social butterfly, but again, she was only one woman.
He fired up the four-wheeler and rode back to the barn with a new resolve and new patience. Treat her like a stubborn horse, that’s all. Simple.
As soon as Jackson saw Alexandria standing in the barn, he remembered why it wasn’t going to be so simple. Hattie’s mane and tail were brushed, there was a huge pile of hair on the ground, and the mare had her ears pinned back like she was running out of patience.
“What are you doing?”
“I can’t believe that long tail had so many rats and snarls. We always braided manes and tails to keep them from getting pulled out,” she said. “Don’t you have tail bags?”
Jackson prayed for strength. “In the tack room, in the last cabinet.”
She came out directly with a bag and folded Hattie’s tail inside it.
“Thanks for the tail job, but cutters like long manes and tails. The more often you brush them out, the more hair gets pulled out, and the shorter they are.”
She looked at him as if he was crazy.
He knew she was crazy.
Hattie was tired of them both and wanted to eat.
“OK. Put her in her stall and we’ll call it a night.” Jackson went to the feed room and shut the door. When he turned around, he saw the halter, the brushes, and the pile of horsehair on the floor. Alexandria was heading for the house.
“Wait a minute. Who’s going to put this stuff away?”
She turned to him, a mildly surprised look on her face. “Juan?”
“No. Juan does ranch chores, but he doesn’t go around picking up after you or anyone.”
She hesitated, then smiled and walked back to the barn. She picked up everything while Jackson watched and then stopped before him.
“Is that all right, M
r. Morgan?”
“That’s fine,” he said, thinking he’d won another round.
“Good, I’m starved. I hope dinner is ready.”
“It will be as soon as I get it out of the can.”
Alexandria’s smile weakened. “Can?”
“Yup.” Jackson mimicked a hillbilly twang. “An’ then after dinner, we’ll watch home movies.”
“Oh, as nice as that sounds, I think I’ll pass,” she said politely. “I’ll just order a pizza or something. I have to shower and call the office and—” Alexandria stumbled as she went from cement barn floor to the gravel outside.
Jackson was close enough to catch her. His hands were strong at her waist. Alexandria felt ever-so-slightly dizzied. She told herself it was fatigue, but somewhere deep inside her, she was afraid it had more to do with Jackson Morgan than with his teaching techniques.
“How long did you say it’s been since you rode?” He turned her in his arms and pulled her close at the same time he stood her up.
“Girl Scouts,” she said weakly, the truth leaking out.
“You’re joking,” he said merrily, holding her away. “You haven’t ridden since you were a Girl Scout?”
Alexandria pushed him away, angry with herself. “I rode every day as a Girl Scout and received several awards. And I’m fine.”
“Hesperia said—”
“I’ve made it through the first day, and I’ll be ready to start at five thirty tomorrow if you want to. In fact, I’ll take care of breakfast while you feed.”
Jackson smiled as he turned back and pulled the tack room door closed. “Meals weren’t included in your deal. Besides, I thought you told me earlier that you never had more than a cup of coffee for breakfast.”
She held her chin high. “I usually spend the majority of my time with intellectual exercise, not manual labor.” Alexandria jerked the saddle off the horse’s broad back and staggered carrying it to the tack room. “I think I’m going to need more than coffee to keep up with you, Mr. Morgan.”
“Jackson, Miss Payne, and that’s the first reasonable thing you’ve said.”
Jackson insisted she eat with him, and when she found out that the local pizza establishment wouldn’t deliver so far out of town, she had no choice but to accept. She showered and was pleasantly surprised to find a simple but adequate meal of barbequed steak, potatoes, and salad. He was very clear that she was not to expect such luxuries on a consistent basis, but Alexandria had developed a plan.
She went to her room after the meal and was in the middle of making phone calls when Jackson knocked on the door.
“Movie time,” he announced.
“Oh no,” she said as she opened the door, too quickly. “I’m beat. I’m going to go—”
Jackson took her by the arm and drew her into the living room where he sat her on the couch. “Just a little while. I want to show you something.” He slipped a video cassette into the player and Alexandria prepared to sit just long enough to be polite before she excused herself.
Jackson settled near her with the remote control, totally unaware that his leg brushed against hers, totally unaware that she was miffed that he was unaware. Alexandria wiggled back to relax in the comfortable leather couch, expecting the torture of tedious home movies. The first voice she heard was a lazy drawl that introduced the cutting classes at the World Championship Quarter Horse Show in Texas.
She was relieved.
He was intent.
“Watch this horse,” he said as he leaned forward. “See how he gets down low, moves like a cat, and works a cow like he means it. You want a horse like this who’ll take control of the cow.”
As Alexandria focused on the small screen, she had to admit it was exciting to watch the horse move, especially now that she had some idea of how hard it was to ride the animal in action. Slowly she let herself be drawn into Jackson Morgan’s world of high-money cutting horses.
“You can learn something from watching every go. See the man working now? He’s an amateur, but has won the World three times. He’s got a feel for it most pro trainers don’t have.”
“Who is he?” Alexandria asked, intrigued.
“Covington.”
At once she was interested. “James Covington?”
“Yes, Everett to all his friends.” He leaned further forward on the couch, wrapped up in what was on the television. “He gets a hundred percent from every horse I’ve ever seen him ride, and you need to understand the why before you understand the how.”
She nodded. Truer words were never spoken. From that moment on, Alexandria scrutinized the lean older man in the picture. For another hour and a half, they watched horse after horse try to win the coveted World Champion title. None, however, was as impressive to Alexandria as Everett James Covington.
Time was short; she regained her focus. She couldn’t afford to be tired; she couldn’t afford to be swayed by a grouchy cowboy. There was a lot to learn in only thirty days. Every start, every stop, every turn had to be poetry, written as flawlessly as Covington’s performance had been. But that was only an intermediate goal. More important than mere poetry, James Covington was the missing piece to the COMJET puzzle. He was the reason she was in the middle of nowhere, slaving in the dirt like a pauper, tired beyond words, and taking orders from an arrogant cowboy.
CHAPTER 3
Jackson slammed the door to his former bedroom. Alexandria wasn’t sleeping like he’d expected her to be, but it was nine o’clock, and she wasn’t ready to ride either.
The sound of Booger barking and a car sliding to a halt in the gravel driveway drew him to the front door. He crossed his arms and tapped his toe as Alexandria entered.
“Latte?”
She held a paper cup in both hands with a folder of papers pinned under her arm and smiled as if she had the world by the tail.
“Where have you been? The horses have been fed and are saddled, ready to go before it gets too hot.”
“Well,” she said as she held out a cup, “you never really said what time we were going to begin today, and I had to fax a couple of things. Do you know there’s only one place in Ione that will fax? I was afraid I was going to have to drive all the way back to Sacramento.”
“If I thought you were going to be conducting business half the time, I never would have agreed to this deal.”
She looked directly at him. “I’m guessing you’re angry?”
“Yes.” He stomped to her. “I don’t have the time to waste sitting around, waiting for you to show up. I don’t have the time to teach you if you aren’t going to give this your full attention, and I damn sure don’t have time to clean up after you in the bathroom or anywhere else. What were you doing in there? There’s water everywhere, towels on the floor, and it smells like a French whorehouse. You don’t need perfume to ride a horse.”
Alexandria stood silent for a moment. “I was under the impression I’d paid for room and board.”
“Guess we should have drawn up a business contract since you seem to be misinformed. I’m not your maid.”
“Of course not.” She sipped her latte. “Clearly you wouldn’t know the difference between Givenchy and Bob Mackie without reading the label.”
Jackson had no idea what she was talking about. “If you want to ride, be ready in ten minutes; otherwise we’ll call off this whole ridiculous thing, Blondie.”
“Do…not…call me Blondie.”
He smiled. Small battles were suddenly very important to him.
“My name is Alexandria,” she said with an air of a small child whose best friend had just called her a name. “And I will be ready to ride.”
She spun on her heel and walked to her bedroom. Inside, she changed to her jeans and boots, made one quick call, and then went to the barn to find Jackson waiting.
The morning ride was no different than yesterday’s, except more intense. Alexandria’s whole body was stiff and sore, and at eleven forty-five, when she climbed off the horse, she could bare
ly stand.
Jackson’s back was turned as she limped to the hitching rail, tied her horse, and looked at her watch. Every time he looked her way, she stood taller, held her chin up, and forced a smile.
When Jackson disappeared around the corner, Alexandria tapped her toe and checked her watch again. She took her phone from her pocket and punched in only two numbers before a young man sauntered into the barn from the other side.
“Are you Mark?” she asked impatiently as she snapped the cell phone closed.
“Yeah, I—”
“You’re late, that’s what.”
The teen stopped and sobered. “They didn’t tell me what time I had to be here.”
“Well, if you want to continue as my groom, you’ll have to be a lot more prompt.”
“Your groom?” Jackson stepped into sight. “We don’t have grooms here. We do our own work, for reasons I’ve already covered, Miss Payne.”
Alexandria felt her blood pressure rise. “We most certainly can hire a groom and still reap all the benefits of sweating like a pig.”
Jackson stepped close and glared at Alexandria. “Pigs don’t sweat. You may have been pampered and spoiled wherever it is you live, but you are here now, and if you really want to get as good as you say you do, I say no grooms.” He slowly turned to Mark, who stood looking like a deer in the headlights. “Miss Payne won’t be needing you after all. I’m sure she will pay you handsomely for your time.” He glanced back to her. “Isn’t that right, Miss Payne?”
Alexandria tossed her best “in your dreams” scowl at Jackson, but he didn’t budge.
“All right,” she said finally, spitting the words out like bullets. “Here.” She dragged two twenty-dollar bills from her pocket and gave them to the teen.
Mark knew when to make his move, and as soon as he had the money in hand, he backed away nervously. “Thanks, appreciate it. See ya later.”
The standoffended when Jackson said very politely, “Unsaddle and put your horse up, please.”
The first three days sped by like a shooting star. Despite her crazed mentor, Alexandria willed herself to focus on her mission and get through the month as quickly as possible. The burning in her overtaxed legs gradually subsided, and little by little she regained full range of motion in her lower back so she could move normally. She couldn’t remember ever being so stiff and sore, even after her personal trainer put her through a rigorous training schedule, but she wouldn’t have admitted it if she had been threatened with death, especially not to Jackson.
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