“That’s not the way this is gonna work.” Her dad glanced at her for help. “What’s your opinion, Cheyenne?”
“If you don’t go, Mrs. G., I don’t go.”
“That’s not what I want at all.” Distress crinkled prettily on her round face, enhancing her soft beauty. “You go along, Cheyenne.”
“No, I’ll stay and keep you company. Addy will, too.” She knew Mrs. G. had a special fondness for the youngest of the Granger clan. “She was really counting on taking you riding, but I guess she will have to be disappointed.”
“Very disappointed,” Dad piped in.
“Oh, you two do not play fair.” Mrs. G.’s gaze strayed to the big picture windows where the family and friends gathered at the edge of the lawn. Saddled horses were tied to a rail fence, and a half dozen cattle lowed on their side of the field, begging for attention. Addy had Julianna by one hand and six-year-old Owen by the other, walking between the horses, chattering away.
Adam. He stood like a statue a safe distance away from the horses, the chiseled wonder of his masculine face furrowed with unmistakable apprehension. Cady closed in on him, making conversation. Ooh, what she would give to be a fly on the fence post so she could hear them. Had he just realized that Scotty their ranch hand had saddled a horse for him, too?
“Life isn’t fair, Hattie, and I aim to do whatever it takes.” Dad tossed the saddlebag over his shoulder like a Western hero of old and headed for the door. “You come along with us. You’ll have a good time. You have my word.”
“I’m holding you to that, Frank Granger.” But an interested twinkle sparkled in her eyes.
“It’s settled, then.” Pleased, Dad strolled out onto the porch. His gaze arrowed to Cady and the love that took him over was a sight to see. His deep, abiding affection for Cady shone too brightly to hide.
“Lass, will you show me what to do?” Mrs. G. followed down the stairs.
“I may have my hands full with another greenhorn.” Why was she smiling? It was because of the adamant way Adam shook his head. His no-way-are-you-getting-me-on-a-horse manner made her chuckle. She winked at Mrs. G. “At least you won’t be the only first-timer. You may have to set a good example for the new doctor in town.”
“Cheyenne! Cheyenne!” Julianna bolted across the lawn, running full-out. “Guess what? Dusty and Princess are here. Frank trailered them over from the inn. We get to ride ’em!”
“You look happy.” The homeless and abused horses that the inn had taken on were thriving, thanks to cousin Sean and his fiancée Eloise’s care and the Stone girls’ pampering. Two of the horses had taken a shine to each of the girls. Seeing the way the golden mare lifted her head to always keep an eye on little Julianna spoke of a growing bond. She gave a light tug on one of Julianna’s ponytails. “Do you think you can show Mrs. G. how to mount up?”
“I sure can! It’s real easy.”
“Oh, is that a good idea?” the housekeeper asked, dimpled and merry. “She’s such a little girl.”
“With a big heart, and besides, she knows how to ride.” Cheyenne felt Adam’s gaze land on her like a touch to her chin. Her skin buzzed with a strange sensation. Maybe a bug had landed there. She rubbed her jawbone but nothing flew away.
“Don’t worry, Hattie. I’ll help, too,” Scotty called out from beside an older bay mare, the gentlest horse in the Granger inventory.
“All right, then.” Mrs. G. chuckled as Julianna pulled her away.
She ought to be joining her family, reining Wildflower down the trail, leading the way. She should be contributing to the family’s merry conversation and banter, but they seemed incredibly far away. Adam stood front and center, a few safe paces away from the few remaining horses. With the brush of the wind through his dark thick locks and the kiss of the sun on his bronzed complexion, he appeared intensely male and as polished as if he’d just walked off the covers of an outdoors magazine.
Not that she was attracted to that. Puzzling how she kept noticing him.
“Daddy, you haven’t got in your saddle yet.” Julianna’s button face lined with worry. “Don’t you know how?”
“Sure I do.” He straightened his spine, becoming more tall and powerful.
The fact that her heart kicked into an alarming arrhythmia was a complete coincidence. In fact, she wasn’t going to wait on a city boy like Adam Stone. She strolled over to Wildflower and rubbed her nose. Her old friend nickered softly, bumping her velvety nose into Cheyenne’s hand in an obvious request for more petting. Hard to refuse that. She leaned her forehead against Wildflower’s cheek and savored the sweet company her mare offered.
“I guess staying here and reading the book I have in the car is out of the question.” Adam’s deep baritone held a chord of emotion—a note of amusement and a softer one of resignation.
“Dad, that’s so not what you agreed to do.” Jenny’s dark gaze held a plea, one mirrored by her younger sister.
Not that the Stone family dynamics were any of her business, but she’d grown fond of the girls and she couldn’t seem to keep her attention away from the man. He was a good father. He might be thinking the stoic cast to his face came across as stern, but she could read the affection for his daughters beneath the surface and the look of love that said how much he wanted to please his girls.
Glimmers of admiration flared to life within her as she patted Wildflower’s neck. So, she was a softy for a man with a good heart. She liked him despite all the reasons she shouldn’t. He was remote, he was abrupt and she got the strong impression he didn’t like small-town life or country living. She couldn’t fault him for the look of trepidation he gave the waiting horse. He kept back, apparently mostly clueless what to do with the animal.
“Should I help him, Wildflower?” she asked her beloved mare. “What do you think?”
Wildflower nickered, her chocolate gaze approving of the man.
“All right, fine,” Cheyenne whispered. “But if it doesn’t work out, it’s your fault.”
Wildflower nodded, apparently good with that. Cheyenne patted the mare’s sun-warmed flank as she circled over to lend Adam a hand. He definitely looked as if he could use it. The poor man squinted at Scout, one of her brother’s horses, as if getting up on that gelding was about as appealing as catching a case of the bird flu.
“Look at Mrs. G.” She nodded toward the long line of horses and riders mounting up. “She’s never been on a horse before and she’s having a lot of fun.”
“I don’t do fun.”
“True, but you could fake it just this once.”
“I know what you’re trying to do.” He glanced over just in time to see the housekeeper give a hoot of surprise as the ranch hand gave her a boost into the saddle.
“Way to go, Mrs. G.!” Cheyenne cheered.
The older woman rose up in the air, swung her leg over the back of the horse and landed in the saddle with a surprised plop. “Oh, my! This is much higher than I thought. How do I keep from sliding right off?”
“First you need to wear this.” Scotty handed up Autumn’s extra Stetson, which he must have thought to bring from the barn.
Was that a sparkle of interest in Scotty’s gaze? The strapping ranch hand, also in his sixties, leaned in, lowered his voice and gave Mrs. G. a bit of advice.
“If she can do it, I’m sure you can.” Cheyenne sidled up to Adam. “It’s not difficult. Honestly.”