Chapter 4 #3
“Yeah.” He knew he was truly forgiven when she reached for his hand as they turned toward the stables. He squeezed her fingers in reply, glad they’d dealt with this.
They still had a lot to iron out between them but at least they’d gotten past this first big hurdle, and once he got back he was going to make time to fix the rest of it.
Candace was the best damn thing that had ever happened to him, and he was going to make sure she knew she could count on him no matter what.
The stables were a seven-minute walk from the main lodge, down a gravel pathway that wound through the gardens and around the duck pond.
Set at the top of a slight knoll, the barn-red building was as well maintained as everything else around here. Pastureland spread out behind it as far as the eye could see, disappearing down a rise that gave way to some woodland. In the background loomed the mountains they would head to today.
Candace walked alongside Ryan with their fingers laced together, feeling lighter than she had in months.
They still had more to talk about once he got back from the bachelor party trip—like how she felt like she came in last with him sometimes—but at least she’d gotten the worst of it off her chest and he now understood what she’d been feeling these past few months.
It was a good start, anyway, and she felt way more positive about the future than she had in a long time.
Erin, Dev, and Maya were already gathered around the corral when she walked up with Ryan, the guys standing out in front of the barn next to their mounts.
Cam lifted a dark blond eyebrow at them beneath the brim of his dark brown cowboy hat, a piece of straw sticking out of the corner of his mouth. “Lost track of time?” he said to Ryan.
“Hey, you know how it is. Gotta keep getting shots downrange, because shooting skills are so perishable. Don’t wanna get rusty.”
Cam laughed. “So you were busy cleaning and oiling your weapon, I guess?”
“Yep.” Ryan ogled Candace, then gave her a leer. “Course, my fast-movers always hit the targets I lase.”
She rolled her eyes at the horrible pun, actually looking forward to some downtime without him now that her anger and resentment weren’t eating her up inside. “You guys are ridiculous. Go take your excess testosterone and get your horses saddled.”
“You love my excess testosterone,” Ryan murmured in her ear, sending a rush of tingles through her.
She did. And it felt so good to be able to joke with him again without the tension gnawing at her. “You’re bad. Go.” She lifted up to kiss him once more, then pushed him toward the wrangler standing with a clipboard near the barn door.
“You Wentworth?” the man asked.
“That’s me,” Ryan said, and strode over. Candace couldn’t help but admire the way his muscular butt filled out those jeans. Yum.
The wrangler took off his hat and scratched his head.
“Got a slight problem. We weren’t expecting a last-minute addition to your party.
All the rest of our horses are already out for the day with other guests, and your buddies got the last of our trail horses.
Only one left is that one.” He nodded behind him.
Candace followed his gaze, noticing for the first time the diminutive animal standing half-asleep in the shadows the barn cast in the far corner of the corral.
Ryan did a double-take. “Wait, that?”
“That,” the man confirmed.
“What the hell is it? A donkey?”
The wrangler’s mouth twitched at the same time as chuckles broke out from the rest of the group watching. “That there’s Poncho. Half American mammoth donkey, half Icelandic horse.”
Ryan stepped closer, an expression of disbelief on his face, and Candace bit her lip to hold in a giggle. “I’m supposed to ride that? Up there?” He jerked his chin toward the distant mountains.
“’Fraid so. He’s all we got left.”
Scowling, Ryan stepped up to the corral fence and eyed the weird-looking animal dubiously, already shaking his head. “I weigh two-twenty, and it’s what—a four-hour ride to the ATV pickup point?”
“Closer to five. On him, maybe more like six. Not a problem about the weight. Poncho can handle you, but we’ll have to divide your gear amongst the other horses, just to be safe.”
Ryan turned his head to shoot Candace his trademark are-you-fucking-kidding-me look she recognized well, and everyone started to laugh. His mouth tightened. “Fine, whatever.” He stuck a hand over the fence. “C’mere, Poncho.”
“Yeah, he’s not gonna come when called,” the wrangler drawled, nimbly hopping the fence and walking over to retrieve the animal by the halter on its head. “And you’ll find he’s pretty set in his ways, too. Real stubborn.”
“Ryan’s the same way, so I’m sure they’ll get along fine,” Candace called out. Maya snickered and Wade looked like he was struggling not to burst into laughter.
After some grumbling and signing the mandatory waiver, Ryan waited while the man saddled Poncho and brought him over. Candace slapped him on the back. “Have a good time, honey!”
He shot her a dark look and bent to accept the kiss she offered. “Yeah. Real good time.”
“Well, better than the little donkey you rode in Afghanistan that time, right?”
He grunted, looking none too impressed by the turn of events.
When he strode over to take Poncho—who stood with his eyes closed and his long ears sticking out sideways from his head—from the wrangler, the top of the animal’s back only came up to Ryan’s waist. “How’s this gonna work? ” he demanded, scowling again.
The wrangler grabbed hold of the stirrup. “Well, you put your left foot in this stirrup here—”
“Yeah, I got it.” Jaw tight, Ryan grabbed the saddle horn, put his foot in the stirrup and hoisted himself onto the horse, his long legs damn near touching the ground.
“We’ll have to adjust the stirrups some,” the wrangler mumbled, and went to work shortening them.
Ryan looked so ridiculous on his mount that Candace couldn’t keep from laughing. She whipped out her phone to snap pictures.
“Hey, he’s a low rider,” Wade commented, already mounted on his own horse, which towered head and shoulders over poor Poncho. Of the group, he and Jackson were the natural cowboys. Both of them had grown up riding.
“Fuck off,” Ryan grumbled, and shifted in the saddle. Poncho didn’t so much as open his eyes, his lower lip sagging open as he carried on sleeping, standing up.
“Y’all ready?” Wade called out, checking the others behind him.
“Yep, good to go.”
Wade winked at Erin. “See you in a couple days, baby.”
“Have fun,” she called back.
“I’m already having fun,” he said, smirking at Ryan.
Ignoring him, Ryan let his inner clown out and hammed it up for Candace, tipping his hat at her as she recorded some video. God, he was adorable. “Later, little lady. Come on, Poncho. Let’s ride.” He nudged his heels into the animal’s sides. Poncho jerked but didn’t open his eyes.
“Sometimes he’s a slow starter,” the wrangler said, and hurried over to slap Poncho’s rear with a loud thwack. Poncho’s eyes flew open, his ears went back, and he shot off in the opposite direction Wade had gone.
“Hey, Went, wanna race?” Jackson called back, a cocky grin on his face as he followed Wade at a trot.
“We’d better stop and give him a head start,” Cam said, and he and the other two stopped their horses.
Ryan shot them a venomous glare, pulled hard on the reins to get Poncho going in the right direction, and hurried after his buddies. Male laughter rang out from across the pasture and Candace was giggling so much she was having a hard time keeping her phone steady.
“Woohoo, ride that pony, cowboy!” Jackson hollered, taking off his hat and giving a loud Yee-haw! as he waved it around his head in encouragement, then exaggerated his drawl. “Ride’m like he’s never been ridden before!”
Candace could barely see through the tears of laughter in her eyes. Maya, Dev, and Erin were all gathered around her, howling at the hilarious spectacle before them.
To his credit, Ryan held his head high as he rode Poncho past the guys, the animal’s ridiculously tiny, rapid steps adding to the comedic factor. Hoots of laughter rang out.
As he pulled away from them, Ryan proudly raised one arm and held his middle finger up over his head for them all to see against the clear blue sky as he rode off toward the mountains...at approximately one-point-three-miles per hour with his boots nearly dragging on the ground.