8. Smelling of Spices #2
“Not generally,” I answered. But as I did, I couldn’t help taking a whiff of his cologne. And oh, he smelled good! Like the rain before a thunderstorm, mixed with half the spices in my kitchen.
“Seeing as your currently scheduled student is gone,” he said, looking around, “do you think we could start on my lesson? Or do you have to wait until the clock chimes or something?”
I laughed again. “No, we can start now.” I paused to glance back at the roster. “You marked on the intake survey that you’re a beginner. Have you ever ridden before?”
He shrugged. “Does a pony ride when I was four count?”
“If that’s the case, then a beginner is probably the right level for you,” I said with a grin. “Come on, let’s talk about how to get your horse saddled up.”
As we walked to the barn, I asked him why he was here. “I mean, I’m glad you’re here,” I hurried to add. “I just wasn’t sure if it was your dad’s birthday or something important.”
“I’ll see him and Margaret, of course.” He shrugged before giving me a sly look out of the corner of his eye. “But honestly? I really wanted a riding lesson.”
My mouth dropped open, but I couldn’t think of anything to say. So I closed it again and felt my face go red as I tried not to grin like an idiot.
Oh, if Amanda could only see me now.
Once in the barn, I had to decide which animal to assign him. He was tall, which meant he couldn’t ride our two smallest horses. And one of our mares was afraid of men, which meant there were only two options left.
“Bombadil it is,” I said with a nod before going to the horse’s stall.
He laughed. “Bombadil? Who came up with that name?”
“I did when I was nine. Because he likes to play tricks.” But as I was speaking, another horse–one of our newest boarders–whinnied and leaned his head out of his stall, looking directly at Asher the whole time.
“Wow,” I said, tying Bombadil to the nearest post. “Tomcat seems to like you. He’s one of our newest visitors here.
” I went to the tack room and grabbed one of our grooming buckets.
When I came back out, Asher was in front of Tomcat’s stall, rubbing the horse affectionately and talking to him in soft tones.
In that moment, I wasn’t sure it was possible for a man to get more attractive than that. Maybe if he was holding a baby?
“Wow. You’re a natural.” I held up the bucket. “After you’re a little more familiar with the items in here, we can see what other kinds of horse whispering you’re capable of. Now, before you ride, it’s time for you to learn about everything in this bucket. Starting with the curry comb.”
After we’d gone through all of the main tools in the bucket, and he’d tried his hand at the actual grooming, Bombadil was saddled, and I had him lead Bombadil out into the arena.
“So you’re tall enough to mount on your own.
But we’re going to start you on the steps,” I said, carrying the mounting block–a set of four blue plastic steps–out into the arena.
“It’s a good way to get familiar with the horse and to let him get comfortable with you.
” I put the steps down and went over to the horse’s head to hold him still.
“Climb those steps, then grab the reins and the mane in your left hand. Yeah, just like that. Now put your left foot in the stirrup. Lean forward to center your weight. Now swing your leg over. Perfect!”
I was impressed. His mounting really had been perfect. “Awesome. Now we’re going to–”
Just then, a rattlesnake slithered out onto the sand in front of the horse, and Bombadil reared.
It was every trainer’s nightmare.
But as I watched in horror, Asher handled it like a pro.
Staying calm in the saddle, he maintained his center of gravity, and instead of trying to pull the horse back or trying to force him to stay in place, he moved him forward, riding him around the arena until Bombadil was no longer spooked, murmuring softly to him and rubbing his neck soothingly.
As soon as Bombadil was across the arena, I snatched a shovel from the side of the building and brought it down hard, separating the snake’s head from its body. Only after the snake was dead and I’d recovered my voice, however, did I fully realize what had just happened.
“Asher,” I said, sounding somewhat breathless, “would I be wrong in guessing that you’ve ridden a horse at some point since the pony?”
Asher gave me a sheepish grin. “Maybe?”
“How much?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.
His sheepish grin widened. “I might have had some lessons.”
“Some. Uh-huh.” I nodded. “And would you ever have happened to compete?”
Asher shrugged. “A few times here and there.”
Shaking my head, I decided to press further. “And would you happen to hold any titles?”
“I… might have won one or two?”
I held a hand up expectantly. “And they were?”
He sighed and looked down at the horse. “American West Teen Jumping Champion? And… Pacific West Junior Rider Champion?”
My mouth fell open. “Are you serious?”
He looked at me, his eyes wide. “Why?”
I threw my arms up. “Asher, you’ve won more titles than me! I should be asking you for lessons!” I laughed as embarrassment washed over me, remembering every bit of basic encouragement I’d given him for grooming and mounting well. “Why’d you sign up for a novice lesson?”
He dismounted and led the horse back to where I was standing. “Because if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have gotten an hour with you alone.”
I stared at him. He’d done all of this… to spend time with me?
“You… you could have just asked,” I said, trying not to turn the color of a cherry.
He gave me a thoughtful look. “But would your schedule have permitted it? And by your schedule, I mean your stepmother?”
I opened my mouth to tell him that I was an adult, and that I was good and well able to schedule my own time. But my recent argument with my stepmother shut my mouth once more.
“Look.” He removed his helmet and stretched his shoulders. “I’m sorry for not telling you all of the truth.” Then he gave me that adorable sheepish grin. “But… I really did want to spend time with you. Do you think we could still ride for the rest of the hour?”
I studied him for a moment. Was I annoyed that he hadn’t mentioned his years of professional riding?
I should be. But the more I realized what he’d done–paid my stepmother a ridiculous sum of money under a false name and false pretenses–just to spend time with me because he knew I was married to my job?
I couldn’t be mad. Not even a little.
“Actually.” I squinted up at the sky. “We have an hour and a half left because we’re still technically in Ron’s time slot.” I took a deep breath. “What if I saddled up my horse, and we did a trail ride instead?”
I’d always thought Asher was handsome. But as he broke into the biggest grin I’d seen on him yet, I decided he was far too good looking for his own good. And mine as well.
“So,” I said about twenty minutes later as we made our way up the trail just behind the house. “You’re a professional rider. Do you have any more surprises you’d like to share?”
“Correction. I was a professional rider. The military doesn’t leave much time for gallivanting about the country with my horse and trailer,” he said as we made our way along the mountain path beneath the lodgepole pines.
It was only mid-September, but in the shade, the air felt and smelled like Christmas already.
“As for surprises, I do have one more.” He laughed a little.
“Tomcat is my horse. I’m the one who signed him up for boarding. ”
I let out a laugh. “Well, I guess that checks out.” I’d been somewhat in awe of how much Tomcat had wanted to reach Asher when we were in the barn.
“What about you?” Asher asked, ducking slightly to avoid being hit in the face by a low branch. “Do you have anything I should know about? Bad habits? Membership in any illegal gangs? I like to vet my friends before promoting them to Premier status.”
I laughed. “Well, Casey says I read too much in my time off, and the last gang I was involved in was the Girls’ Club in fourth grade.
We barricaded off the drinking fountain from the Boys’ Club once after they sprayed us with a hose.
” I sighed. “Our teacher broke the clubs up, but it took me years of rehabilitation before I recovered from the experience.” I looked over my shoulder.
“What about you? Any illegal horse betting rings you’re a part of? ”
“That would be a no.” He chuckled, but there was a sad sound to it. “My dad never let me out of his sight after Mom died. I couldn’t have joined an illegal club if I’d tried.”
“How old were you? When your mom died, I mean?” I asked. As soon as I asked the question, I wondered if I shouldn’t have. He might not want to talk about his mother’s death with a girl he barely knew.
But he answered as steadily as ever. “Eight. She had a rare kind of autoimmune disease.” Then, for the first time, his shoulders sagged, and I had to remind myself to look forward to guide my horse. Fortunately, she’d been on this path countless times and knew where to turn when.
“My dad took it really hard. He pulled me out of school and hired a personal homeschooling instructor who was willing to follow us all around as we traveled for his work, and then for tournaments as I got older.”
“I’m sorry,” I called softly. “You were so young.”
He nodded. “I was. But I’m grateful for my dad. He did everything he could to hold us together.” He paused. “Tell me if I’m prying too much, but how far apart did you lose your parents?”