Chapter 9
Nine
Jack’s redwood deck wrapped around the back and both sides of the ranch house. They sat together on an old-fashioned porch swing holding hands, not saying much, until the sun set and the stars shone in the black night sky. Holly’s breath caught at the beauty of it all. Jack had been right. The country sky held secrets she’d never seen. The Big Dipper was vibrant in its luminescence, and lesser stars she hadn’t known existed twinkled all around it.
Once she’d breathed in her fill of the night sky’s radiance, Jack undressed her slowly, kissing each new inch of skin as he exposed it. When they were both naked, he grabbed the blanket hanging over the back of the porch swing, took her hand, and led her to a secluded spot on the soft grass.
The sounds of the evening shrouded them—crickets chirping, a delicate breeze rustling through the aspen grove that surrounded Jack’s house, and the soft groans rumbling from Jack into her as he made love to her slowly, sweetly, and gently underneath the stars.
Later he led her to his bedroom and made love to her again.
* * *
“It’s easy, Holly, you just stand on the near side and get on.”
“Near side?” Holly eyed Sam’s eager face, and then turned to the creamy white animal that was already saddled. “You mean the one I’m nearest to?”
“He means the left side, sugar,” Jack said. “You need to speak in non-cowboy language for Holly, Sam.”
“Sorry, Daddy. But I can’t believe she never rode a horse before!”
“She lives in the city, pal. Not everyone lives on a ranch like we do.”
“Well, everyone should.”
Jack laughed. “Can’t argue with you there.” Then to Holly, “Just put your left foot in the stirrup, and hold onto the withers.”
“Jack”—Holly rolled her eyes—“what the hell is a wither?”
“Non-cowboy lingo, Daddy,” Sam reminded him.
Jack’s lazy smile lit up his face. “It isn’t that easy, is it, pal? The withers, sugar, with an ‘s.’ It’s the highest part of the back at the base of the neck.”
He patted the horse’s withers, or so Holly assumed.
“Ladybelle here is gentle, and she’ll take good care of you.”
“I hope so. I have to say, I’m a bit nervous.”
“The horse’ll sense your fear, Holly,” Sam said. “Right, Daddy?”
“Sam’s right, sugar. You need to take control.”
“Right. Take control of an animal that outweighs me by four times.”
Jack eyed her and she warmed under his gaze. “I’d say about eight or nine times, sugar. But that’d probably make you more nervous.”
Holly’s tummy lurched. Eight or nine times? “Thanks for that, Jack.”
“Aw, Holly,” Sam said, “Ladybelle’s our most gentlest horse here. I’ve been ridin’ her since I was knee high to a grasshopper.”
Holly shook her head. Sam wasn’t much more than knee high to a grasshopper now. “Okay, here goes.” She grasped the “withers” and lifted her left leg into the stirrup. Quite a difference from the only stirrups she’d encountered in the last year—those at the gynecologist’s office. Her skin chilled for a split second until she wiped the negative image from her mind. Today was for her and Jack and Sam. She’d worry about the rest tomorrow.
Make that Monday.
Tuesday at the latest.
“Okay, sugar, just push up with your left leg and swing your other leg over the back of Ladybelle there, onto the saddle.”
“But be careful you don’t kick her flank,” Sam warned, “or you’ll knock the wind out of her.”
“Flank?”
“Right between the ribs and the hip,” Jack said. “Just be careful. You won’t kick her.”
“From your mouth to God’s ears,” Holly mumbled. Just what she needed, an angry horse who couldn’t breathe while she was completely helpless, one leg lodged in a stirrup. She inhaled sharply and swung her leg over Ladybelle’s body.
Her bottom hit the hard saddle with a plunk.
“There you go,” Jack said. “Now gather the reins and slide your other foot into the stirrup. Are you comfortable? Are the stirrups the right length? I can adjust them for you.”
“How the heck should I know? They feel okay.”
Jack gazed down at her feet. “Yeah, they look okay. You should be able to slide into them simply by lifting your feet a few inches. Now you wait while Sam and I get on our mounts, and we’ll start out.”
“Uh, Jack?”
“Yeah?”
“She’s not going to…take off or anything, is she?”
He laughed. “No, sugar. Just sit tight. We’ll be with you in a minute.”
Jack helped Sam onto a spotted gray horse and then mounted his sleek brown horse with smooth grace. Damn, the man was beautiful.
“Okay, sugar. We’re going to start with a slow walk. Just squeeze your calves together, and Ladybelle’ll know what to do.”
“Don’t I just say ‘giddyup’ or something?”
Sam burst into giggles.
“No, Holly,” Jack said. “Just squeeze your calves. Don’t kick, or she’ll get numb.”
“I’d never kick any animal, Jack Sherwood.”
“I know you wouldn’t. I’m just sayin’ don’t squeeze too hard. Sam, come on.” Jack’s horse walked.
Holly stared at Jack’s finely shaped calves and tried to see exactly what he was doing. Underneath his jeans, those muscular legs were no doubt taut and sinewy with their squeezing movements. Unfortunately, she couldn’t see through the fabric, so she had to guess how much tension to put in her own legs.
Sam followed his father, and Holly took a deep breath. It’s now or never, she said to herself, and squeezed her calves together.
To her astonishment, Ladybelle walked. The horse followed Jack and Sam. Holly’s bottom bounced a little in the saddle. Jack and Sam seemed to be sitting comfortably. What was she doing wrong?
“Pull back the reins now,” Jack said. “We need to stop and check the girth.”
“My girth is just fine, thank you.”
“Oh, sugar, your girth is lovely. But we’re checking Ladybelle’s girth.”
Holly pulled on the reins and Ladybelle jerked to a stop.
“A little lighter pull next time,” Jack said. “Now watch me.” Jack slid his fingers beneath the band that went under the horse and held the saddle in place.
At least that’s what it looked like it was doing. Holly didn’t have a clue.
“If you can get more than two fingers under the girth, you need to tighten it.”
Her hands shaking, Holly replicated Jack’s actions. Barely one finger fit between the girth and the horse. “Good to go, I guess,” she said.
“Excellent. Let’s try a slow walk again. You know what to do.”
“Jack, I—” She stopped. How exactly could she say her ass was bumping in the saddle? Not very sexy. “Never mind.”
“How’re you doing, sugar? You ready to trot?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Sure she is, Dad.” Little Sam sped forward.
“He’s quite the horseman,” Holly said.
“Sam would rather ride than just about anything else. Now, for the trot. While we’re walking, squeeze her side with your legs again, and she’ll move to a faster pace. Just a warning, though. It’s going to get bumpy.”
Bumpy? Bumpier than it was already? She was going to need a sitz bath for sure. Epsom salts, here I come . She squeezed her calves, and Ladybelle started to trot. At least Holly assumed it was a trot. The way her ass was plunking up and down didn’t bear any resemblance at all to what Jack and Sam were doing ahead of her.
Jack slowed down and soon rode beside her. “Uncomfortable?”
“Just a touch.”
“Try to move with her movement. I know it’s hard at first.”
“Hard doesn’t even begin to describe it.”
“I’ll massage you later.” His dark eyes gleamed.
While a massage from his master hands sounded like heaven on earth, Holly wasn’t anxious for him to see her bruised behind. “No thanks.”
He laughed. “Don’t underestimate the therapeutic value of a good butt massage. Try to post to the movements. Post up and down in the saddle in time to the beats of the trot.”
“Right.”
“Sometimes it helps to say ‘up, down, up, down.’”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Nope. That’s how I learned.”
“But you weren’t forty years old.”
“True enough. I was four. Just like Sam was.”
“I’m afraid I’m old and set in my ways. I love horses. I really do. They’re noble and beautiful animals but I’m not sure I was meant to ride one.” Up, down, up, down .
It wasn’t working.
“Anyone can ride a horse, Holly. We all start out the way you’re starting out. It’s completely normal.”
“Come on, Jack. You look like you were born on a horse.”
“Hell, no. I did my share of fallin’ the first day. You’re doin’ way better than I did.”
“You were four.”
He chuckled. “I suppose it helped that I had no fear. Four-year-olds don’t, as a rule. But as an adult learnin’, you have sense enough not to spook the horse. So you’re ahead of me.”
“I don’t particularly feel ahead of anyone at the moment.”
Plunk, plunk. The bones in her butt ached. Weren’t butts supposed to have lots of cushy insulation?
Jack whistled to Sam. “Turn around, pal. I think Holly’s had enough for this mornin’.”
“Oh, I hate to cut his ride short.”
“No worries. I can take him out again this afternoon if he wants. Or he can ride by himself, as long as he stays close to the house.”
“Are you sure?”
“Sure, I’m sure. We’ll have loads more opportunities to bring you out here.”
Holly’s insides squeezed together. There wouldn’t be loads more opportunities. This was probably the only time she’d visit Jack’s ranch and the only time she’d ride a horse.
“Besides,” he continued, “you need to get back to check on that great meal you put in the oven before we left, right?” He winked.
“Not really. It bakes for several hours. I don’t need to do anything.”
“I was tryin’ to give you an easy way out, sugar. I know your posterior’s hurtin’.”
Holly sighed. It was, at that. The massage Jack had mentioned was sounding pretty darn good.
* * *
She was sitting on a hemorrhoid donut pillow.
Her humiliation was now complete.
Thank God she hadn’t fallen off Ladybelle. That would have been the ultimate embarrassment. Right. As if the donut weren’t enough.
Luisa had brought her the pillow after lunch. She’d said it had been her mother’s.
Of course, Holly was old enough to be Luisa’s mother—her young mother, but mother nonetheless.
She sighed and brought another forkful of boeuf bourguignon to her mouth. At least her dinner had come off without a hitch. Jack hadn’t stopped raving about it. Even Sam was gobbling it up, and Luisa had told her the little boy could be picky.
Watching him with Jack was a joy. Their easy banter, the closeness between them, made Holly wonder about Jack’s birth mother. Who was she? Holly had given Jack the names of a few good family lawyers in Denver. She shuddered to think what might happen if the woman showed up and demanded rights to her son, or worse, sued for custody. That would kill Jack.
Hate for the woman who’d borne Sam bristled at Holly’s neck. That dumb woman didn’t know how lucky she was. How could she have abandoned such a sweet little boy? What Holly wouldn’t give to…
No. Such thoughts had no place.
She’d ask Jack about the situation once Sam was in bed tonight. That’s the least she could do since a long term relationship between them wasn’t possible. She’d see that he got a good family law attorney and make sure all paperwork regarding Sam was in order.
After dinner, they sat on the deck while Sam ran around the yard with Jack’s dogs, Lacy and Max, two happy and panting Golden Retrievers.
They didn’t say much, just held hands and watched the horseplay.
After half an hour, Luisa came out to collect Sam for bed.
“Go ahead, partner,” Jack said. “I’ll be up to read you a story once you’ve had your bath.”
“Can Holly read me my story tonight?”
“Sam, Holly’s our guest.”
Holly warmed, pleased that Sam felt close enough to her to ask her. “I’d be happy to read to him, Jack. I don’t mind.”
Jack’s smile heated her. God, she’d miss him—his raw male beauty, his amazing sexual prowess. But mostly she’d miss his gentleness, his devotion to his son, and his big heart.
“If you’re sure you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.”
“Okay.” He gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek. “After you’re done with Sam’s story, I have a special surprise for you.”
“Oh, you do?” She arched her eyebrows, hoping she could pull off a seductive look.
“Get your mind out of the gutter, sugar. Though I have plans for that kind of surprise as well. This is something tangible. And you’re going to love it.”