Chapter 29
Joelle
Caleb’s already saddled the gentlest mare in the barn—a calm, flaxen-coated beauty named Penny who smells like hay and sunshine and shifts gently on her feet like she’s aware of my fear and doesn’t want to startle me. She’s the kind of horse you can trust with beginners.
I adjust the strap of my brand-new hat and run a sweaty palm nervously down my thigh. My jeans are snug, my boots are scuffed, and my heart is a mess of excitement and trepidation.
Wade’s sitting on the rail fence nearby, Little C wobbling on unsteady toddler legs in front of him, gripping the rail and squealing every time a horse so much as flicks its tail.
“He thinks he’s in charge,” Wade mutters, grinning, arms ready in case our son loses his balance.
Little C babbles something that might be “horse!” and kicks at the dirt, delighted when one of the ponies snorts in his direction.
I turn toward Caleb, who’s watching me like I’m the only thing worth looking at in his whole universe.
“You ready, sweetheart?” he asks, voice low and coaxing.
“Not even a little,” I admit.
He chuckles, moves closer, and offers his hand. “That’s all right. You’re not doin’ it alone.”
He boosts me up into the saddle, then climbs up behind me, his arms sliding around my waist, anchoring me against his muscular body. The horse shifts beneath us, her body warm and powerful.
“Okay,” I whisper, trying not to hold my breath.
“You’re doin’ fine.” Caleb leans in close, his mouth brushing the shell of my ear. “Relax. Let the rhythm do the work.”
His words are soft but confident, and the tension in my thighs eases. My spine finds its curve. With his chest pressed to my back and one hand light on the reins, he guides us into a slow, swaying walk.
I giggle unexpectedly, and the horse’s ears respond with a fascinating flick. “This is... not as terrifying as I thought.”
“See?” he murmurs. “Told you. You’re built for this.”
“I don’t know about that,” I say, cheeks warm.
“You’re riding a horse in tight jeans and a hat with your man holding you. You’re a goddamn cowgirl now, Jo.”
I glance over to see Wade snapping pictures with his phone. “Hold up that chin, darlin’. Let’s see that grin.”
I give him a mock glare and a real smile, one hand reaching for the brim of my hat like a model in a western calendar.
“That’s the one,” Wade says, his voice a little husky. “My girl.”
My heart could float right out of my chest.
After a few minutes, Caleb leans down and murmurs, “Want to try it on your own?”
I hesitate. Then I nod. It’s now or never. A woman can’t live on a ranch and not know how to ride a horse. I’m pretty sure the cowboy police—or committee or whatever—is on the brink of coming to arrest me for crimes against ranch life.
Caleb dismounts easily, then helps me settle. I’m so high, and without his arms around me and his solidity at my back, fear rears again. He keeps hold of the reins, though, walking beside Penny as I take the lead, cautious but exhilarated.
Every step is a small victory. Every sway of the saddle reminds me I’m stronger than I thought, and I can do anything if I put my mind to it.
“You’re doin’ it,” Caleb calls, tipping up his hat to look up at me.
“I am, aren’t I?” I laugh, eyes wide with wonder.
Wade cheers from the fence, hoisting Little C up to sit beside him. “Damn right you are! Look at Mama go!”
After a slow circle through the paddock, we lead Penny to a patch of soft shade beneath a wide, old cottonwood. I swing down with Caleb’s help, boots hitting the ground with a satisfying thunk.
“You guys ready for lunch?” I ask, suddenly shy. “I made sandwiches and pie.”
“I’d eat dry toast if you made it,” Wade says, already spreading out the blanket.
We sit beneath the tree, Little C crawling between us, trying to sneak bites from everyone’s plates and squirting his juice box in Wade’s eye. Caleb helps me unlace my boots while Wade pulls me into his lap, sandwich forgotten as he presses a kiss to the side of my neck.
“Happy?” he asks, like he ever needs to.
I look around at the golden grass, the sleepy horse grazing nearby, our son’s curly head bent over a crushed blueberry, the way Caleb watches me like I’m a miracle. Wade’s at my back, his love as solid and reliable as his body.
There’s no hesitation in me when I answer.
“More than I ever knew I could be.”