The Christmas Cowboy. Judy ChristenberryЧитать онлайн книгу.
sausage casing,” she said as she turned to view herself in the mirror. “And I’m the sausage.”
Jess laughed. “Then they fit just right.”
With Jessica’s help, she bought three pairs of jeans and a handful of western-style shirts, a ski jacket, long underwear and a pair of gloves. And boots.
“You need one more thing—a cowboy hat,” Jess said.
Andrea looked at her. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. But a hat’s a tricky fit. It has to be tight enough so it won’t fly off while you’re riding, but not so tight it’ll give you a headache. Jim will be more help there.”
“She’s right,” Jim said with a grin. “I’m the hat man.”
“I really appreciate it, Jim,” Andrea said. “You’re better at shopping than any man I know.”
“Maybe you don’t know many married men.” Jim laughed.
“I guess I don’t.”
When Jim took her to the hat section, she was surprised to see so many choices. She’d always thought one cowboy hat looked like another.
Jim gave her several to try, none of which apparently was right, then he led her around the aisle to another rack.
She heard a woman’s flirty laugh, followed by the rumble of a deep, sexy male voice. A voice she recognized.
Could it be?
She lifted her head so she could see from under the brim of the gray suede hat she’d tried on, and her eyes met a pair of brown ones shot through with topaz.
“Hank. What are you doing here? I thought you wouldn’t be caught dead shopping.”
He let go of the woman he’d been embracing and put a hat on her long blond tresses. “I’m helping a friend pick out a hat.”
“I see,” Andrea said. “Maybe you can give your opinion about this hat.” She indicated the one she wore.
“A good choice,” Hank grudgingly said. “Of course, it’s also the most expensive.”
The blonde he was with tried on a few more hats. Then she stepped close to him, slid her hands up Hank’s chest and around his neck. “Ooh! I love this hat, Hank. Can I have it?”
He pulled her arms down. “Come on, Lucy, it’s not appropriate for you.”
“You just don’t want to pay for it because it’s so expensive.”
“No, that’s not the reason.”
“Pretty please, Hank? The color looks good on me.”
Andrea had to stifle a laugh as she noticed the lavender hat with an ostrich feather in red and purple encircling the crown.
“Fine, I’ll get it for you.”
She couldn’t help herself. “Nice choice!” she called out.
The blonde smiled. “Thanks.” Then she whispered something to Hank. Despite Hank’s sharp no, she spoke up, anyway. “We’re heading out for a drink and some dancing. Want to join us?”
Andrea shook her head. “Thanks, anyway. I’ve got an early day tomorrow.” She wanted to remind Hank that he did, too, but she held her tongue.
It didn’t matter to her what Hank Ledbetter did with his nights.
She watched him walk away with the blonde draped around him. If she didn’t know better, she’d think that pang in her stomach was jealousy.
Chapter Three
Andrea came down to the kitchen early the next morning. She hadn’t been able to sleep much in anticipation of her first riding lesson with Hank. She’d found Jessica already preparing breakfast, and lent a hand as they chatted.
They were laughing about some of the antics of previous guests when Hank entered the room and went directly to the coffeepot.
“You’d better eat a big breakfast or you’ll be starving by lunch!” he snapped.
Andrea had thought they’d prepared too much food, but she must’ve been inspired by the early hour, for she cleaned her plate. Hank did the same.
When Hank got up from the table, Andrea jumped up, too. She wasn’t going to be accused of dawdling.
Hank stared at her. “You ready?”
“Yes,” she said, putting on her new ski jacket and hat, and working on her gloves as she followed Hank.
As they walked to the horse barn, Andrea felt anticipation grow. Along with fear. She hoped she managed to do what her teacher asked without showing she was scared.
“Okay, first you need to know the equipment you’ll be using.” Hank began pointing out the parts that they used to saddle a horse. After he made her repeat the names of the parts, he introduced her to the horse she was going to ride. “This is Moonbeam.”
“Nice name.”
“She came with it. Dan Peters named her.”
Andrea stroked the horse several times under Hank’s supervision.
Then he brought out an apple and cut it in half. “Here, hold this flat in your hand and feed it to her.”
Andrea did as he said, refusing to ask if the horse would bite her. When the horse gently took the apple half and crunched it, Andrea stood amazed. Then she fed the mare the other half. When the animal nuzzled Andrea for more, Andrea looked at Hank. “Do you have more?”
“No. That’s enough. We don’t want to spoil her.”
Andrea stroked Moonbeam’s neck. But she watched Hank to see what came next.
“Now pick up the bridle. I’ll tell you how to put it on the horse.”
She did as she was told, her stomach fluttering. It took several tries to work the bit into the horse’s mouth, but she finally learned to trust Moonbeam. They moved on to the remaining equipment, and in no time she had Moonbeam saddled.
She felt so proud when Moonbeam stood before her, ready to ride.
“Now unsaddle her.”
She turned to Hank. “But…”
He gave her a steely stare.
“I thought I’d get to ride her, since she’s all saddled.”
“You’re not ready yet.”
She stared him down, but in the end she followed his instructions. He was, after all, the expert. She unsaddled the horse, and when she finished, she looked at Hank, a challenge in her eyes.
“Good,” he replied, without any expression. Then he said, “Now saddle her again.”
She waited for him to say what to put on the horse.
“Without my help,” he said.
She prayed she could remember the order of what she’d done only a few minutes before, and was pleased with herself when she got it right.
Hank offered no words of praise. Nor did he tell her to unsaddle Moonbeam again, as she’d expected.
“Now mount up.”
Feeling a rush of adrenaline, she stepped up to the side of Moonbeam, wondering how she was supposed to climb onto such a tall animal.
Hank’s sharp words stopped her.
“You’re on the wrong side of the horse. You need to be on her left side. That’s the way most horses are trained.”
“Oh, sorry, Moonbeam.” She started to walk behind her to the other