On a Snowy Christmas Night. Debbi RawlinsЧитать онлайн книгу.
was about to slide backward out of the saddle.
A few feet ahead of her, Jesse turned around, his brown Stetson pulled low to block the sun. “You okay?”
“Fine.”
Only when he lowered his gaze to her hand did she realize she was gripping the saddle horn. She released it and forced herself to relax. The sky was clear and blue, the side of the mountain covered with a beautiful array of pine trees in varying shades of green. Back home when it was cold the sky was usually gray and the air damp, making everything seem dreary.
“Want to stop for a while?” Jesse slowed down until he rode abreast of her. They’d ridden that way most of the past hour, but he’d gone up ahead when they started the slight ascent and the trail narrowed. “We can also turn around. Your call.”
“Don’t you have to check some fencing?”
He smiled and adjusted his hat. “That’ll only take a minute.”
She really appreciated him making time to ride with her. Last night she’d considered rejecting his offer, but it was good practice and the last chance she’d have to get comfortable in the saddle. “I’d like to keep going.”
He ran his gaze down the front of her pink down jacket, then followed her jean-clad leg to the boot she had tucked into the stirrup. Naturally he couldn’t see anything interesting but the scrutiny made her tingle, anyway. “What are you wearing under that?”
“Excuse me?”
The skin at the corners of his eyes crinkled and his mouth lifted in a vague smile. “You should have thermal underwear. You’ll be working outside a lot at Safe Haven.”
“Guess I should’ve thought of that. I’ll go to town later.” He reached over and casually caught her hand, startling her. “You have another pair of gloves?” he asked, inspecting the inside fleece lining.
“These are quite warm.”
“Waterproof?”
“Um, not sure.”
“They should have a snug closure around here,” he said, showing her by closing his large hand around the glove and her wrist. “Keeps the cold air from getting in there.”
“I see what you mean.” Her hand did feel warmer. In fact a toasty flush surged through her entire body. Apparently she’d been spending too much time staring at his broad shoulders instead of the scenery.
He let go at the same time as she pulled her hand away. “The shelter might have an extra pair you can use, but if not I can loan you my old work gloves. They’re too big so you’d have to wear them over yours.”
“Thanks, but I’m sure I can find something suitable in town.”
“Maybe. You have small hands and inventory is low to make room for Christmas gifts and decorations. But try Abe’s Variety or the hardware store.”
“I will.” She smiled, turning to take in the scenery, feeling a little shy all of a sudden. Odd, because although she didn’t like being around people as a general rule, especially after Brian, she tended to dismiss men altogether. But with Jesse… her off button seemed to be malfunctioning.
With a mixture of relief and disappointment she saw that the path was again narrowing and they’d have to return to single file. She waited for him to speed up.
“You go on ahead,” he said. “I’m not worried about overhanging branches up here.”
She clicked her tongue and after a gentle nudge, Gypsy trotted ahead of Jesse and his beautiful black gelding. The incline wasn’t too bad but where the snow had been patchy only five minutes ago, the higher they climbed the more it obscured the rocky path.
The truth was, it made her nervous. She wouldn’t complain, though. It was winter and this was Montana, so if she’d given it the kind of thought it deserved, instead of spacing out, she would have expected a lot more snow, actually. Though the mountaintops were certainly packed solid.
They rode in silence for another five minutes and then Jesse said, “There’s a meadow not far from here. We’ll stop there, water the horses and see what kind of snacks Rachel packed for us.”
“I told her not to go to the trouble.…” Shea twisted around to look at him, letting out a yelp when she nearly lost her balance.
She clung tightly to the reins but she’d already spooked Gypsy. The mare reared slightly. Shea held on for all she was worth.
In seconds Jesse was standing beside her, whispering to the horse, calming her, one hand stroking her neck. Shea stayed as still as she could, even when he switched from petting the horse to petting her arm.
4
JESSE CLENCHED his jaw. He was an ass for bringing her up here. His intentions had been good. The view was spectacular from this vantage point. But he should’ve taken into account that she might not be an experienced enough rider. Hell, it seemed as if he couldn’t do one stinkin’ thing right these days.
“You okay?” he asked, rubbing her trembling arm.
“I’m fine. Embarrassed, but I’ll survive.” She shifted away from his touch, and he backed off.
“Let’s stop for a while.” He swung out of the saddle and offered her a hand down.
Shea resisted his help, her determination to stay mounted plain in her flushed face. “Is Gypsy mad? Does she want me off?”
“Mad?” He smiled. “Don’t think so. I figured you might want to take a break. And for the record, no reason to be embarrassed.”
She moistened her rosy lips. They looked chapped. “I’d rather we get to where we’re going.”
He stroked the mare’s flank, while scanning the scraggly brush and thicket of pine trees for any sign of a predator. Gypsy was a gentle horse and it wasn’t like her to spook that easily. Yet she’d be whinnying and trying to run if there was a hungry cougar nearby. And Rambo wouldn’t be calmly munching the tall dead grass after Jesse had dismounted.
“Okay,” he said, giving the bay a final rub down her rump. “We’ll go slow. We’re in no hurry.”
“I panicked and jerked the reins. It was all me.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He lifted his hat, then reset it on his head and let out a low whistle. “Come on, Rambo.”
“What did you call him?” She glanced over her shoulder but kept her body rigidly forward. “What’s your horse’s name?”
He rarely thought about the silly name anymore, not unless someone brought it up. “Rambo.”
“Oh. Are you a fan of the movie?”
“My little brother named him.” Jesse swung up into the saddle, then with his heel tapped the horse’s flank to get him moving. “Trace was nine when Rambo was given to me as a colt, and I promised to let him choose the name.”
“That’s sweet.”
“Yeah, well, I threatened to change it at least a dozen times.”
“But you didn’t.”
He shrugged a shoulder even though she couldn’t see him. She was concentrating on getting past a snowdrift, while Jesse focused on the slim curve of her hips. She needed a longer jacket. And not so pink. Jesus, she could attract a half-blind predator with no sense of smell.
Sticking to a slow pace, he let the horses pick their way over the rocks single file. The path wasn’t dangerous or he wouldn’t have brought Shea this way, but he could tell she was a little nervous and for that he regretted taking this route. She obviously wasn’t the outdoors type, and he shouldn’t have made the assumption she was just because she’d volunteered to work at Safe Haven.
He