Page 5 of Reining Her In

But, I’m sticking with Ruby. She and I will show them what we can do.

I know Ruby was close to a million herself, but my parents have always indulged me and my love of this sport. I was so thankful for her, but today, my mare just felt odd. I’m going to trust that Travis thinks it’s me and try to take some calming breaths before my groom brings her back out for my course.

There are sounds and voices from behind me, I turn to see a rider and horse needing some room, so I move out of the way. Even as I slip between some other grooms and trainers, I catch another glimpse of Reed in the near distance, and my stomach feels like a herd of tiny buffalo are stomping all around.

He’s standing tall and solid, an energy around him causing an invisible ring where no one steps inside. He’s facing away from me, and my eyes trace up and down, drinking him in from a safe, anonymous distance.

His perfectly pressed, white, button down oxford spreads across the back of his shoulders like a tight sheet. His carved wooden cane is tucked under his left arm just like my riding crop and for some reason it makes me shiver. The immaculate trim of his dark hair follows just above the shirt collar and up around his ears. I knew he was tall; I’d watched him ride in competitions and on TV for years before he got hurt.

But in person, he’s a presence unlike any I’ve ever experienced. I barely came up to his shoulder. I felt like a little kid looking up at their father when he spoke to me.

His features were intense, but there was a deep kindness there as well. The gray of his eyes was rimmed in a black thread that made me think he only looked at me that way. Silly and stupid, but they were glistening like a moon reflecting off a still lake.

The way he looked at me made me want to tell him things. He spoke without words. When he licked his bottom lip, I realized how beautiful his mouth was. Full and soft, not tight and thin like Travis’s.

And yes, I imagined kissing him.

Even now, with my eyes pinned to his back, unable to break my gaze as I side-step and inch toward where my Ruby will be coming out any minute, I’m hypnotized by the way he stands. How can standing be sexy? I swallow hard because standing is definitely sexy when Reed Sawyer does it.

I’d say his body is lean, but still thick in all the right places, and he radiates a calm power, standing nearly a head above most people that move in that wide berth around him. When he looked at me for that first moment in the practice ring, I honestly thought my knees would give out, and he’d be picking me up off the dirt floor of the riding arena.

It takes effort but with a huff, I turn away and stand straight getting my mind right. I need to get to Ruby, so I try to get my head in the game and move forward, leaving the vision of Reed Sawyer behind.

I’m younger than most riders in my class here as well. From the first moment I got a leg over a horse when I was four, it all just made sense to me. I worked my butt off in school because my parents always told me the only way I could ride was if I kept my grades up. And, if I brought home less than an A+ my father would probably kill me. At least that’s how it felt.

Well, I did more than that. I skipped second grade, and by the time I was fifteen, I’d graduated high school and then finished college in the next three years with a double major in Micro-Biology and French Literature. It didn’t leave much time for friendships outside of my fellow riders, but I figure if my equestrian career ever fails, I’ll become a vet. But as of right now, I just turned nineteen last month, and my riding career seems to be on the right path.

My parents are most likely in one of the VIP tents. They are good folks I suppose by most standards. Pillars of the community types. I’ve heard more than once how lucky I am to have such wonderful and adoring parents. My dad works all the time, so the mere fact that he’s here today only adds to the pressure for me to win. Failure is not in our family’s DNA – he’s reminded me of that enough times over the years.

When I started showing, there was one competition I’ll never forget. It was raining, and my pony stalled at a jump, slid in the wet sand and I toppled over face-first into the mud.

Disqualified.

Instead of a reassuring hug and words of comfort, my father informed me that if I embarrassed him alike that again in front of the crowd, he would not come to any more of my shows.

My mother, of course, fluttered around and tried to minimize his harshness because that’s what she does. But dad’s a perfectionist. It’s gotten him to where he is today. That’s what he tells me, at least.

He sits on the board of directors for multiple Fortune 500 companies. He is still the largest shareholder in Montgomery-Bristol, the equities firm he founded twenty years ago. He lunches with Warren Buffet and is a collector of Picasso and all things flawless and priceless.

With the image of my father held firmly in my head, I tug my blazer down straight, pull my shoulders back, and take one last glance behind me. I see Reed Sawyer’s cane meet the grass, and he steps forward, speaking encouraging words to Nancy as she stops to look down and listen to him before she enters the ring to ride her course.

I should look away and be on my way, but I’m mesmerized.

Nancy nods and smiles. Nods again, straightening her back, pulling her shoulders back as he speaks.

The last thing Reed does before Nancy nudges her mount forward is lay a hand on the shoulder of her horse; he bows his head for a moment and then just as quickly looks back up at her. He nods again, tipping his head toward where she will enter the ring for her ride. She looks peaceful. Whatever he’d said to her calmed and centered her. A hot flash of jealously burns inside me. Not because I see anything other than a professional trainer and his student, but because I want all of those moments with him. As though they belong to me already.

I long for the clear connection and the trust she has with her trainer. It would be an honor to be his student but thoughts of what else I’d like to be with him burn in a different part of my body.

As Nancy’s horse eases forward, Reed squares his shoulders and takes his proud stance; his attention intently focused on his student. The flock of butterflies that have taken up residence inside my stomach take flight again.

I swallow hard. The contrast of his hulking, ominous presence being soft and gentle in such an anxious moment, right before a competition, sends a quiver down the indent of my spine.

Travis’s style is more sandpaper than silk, although he throws in the occasional “sweetheart,” “honey,” or some other thinly veiled offer for our relationship to be more than professional, I’ve managed to keep my distance from all that. My experience with dating has been minimal at best, and the experience I do have frankly sucked...

This part of my life takes up nearly every hour of the day, so boys or men have been a low priority for me. The few dates I’ve had over the years were pitiful. No, they were painful.

The last one ended with a disgusting grope at my left breast, and a thick tongue jammed between my lips. I figured if that’s what dating is all about, I’ll stick with horses, thank you very much.

But, something tells me today that things could be very different with the right man. I’m suddenly a giddy schoolgirl, the thought of Reed Sawyer, the famous rider, and teacher, has thrown some kind of seductive pixie dust on me. I take one last look at his broad form, standing tall and straight, as Nancy circles her mount outside the waiting gate.

The fluttering from my stomach moves lower as his long legs, and a behind that created the word sexy, step back. He settles his cane in front of him, and a wet spot grows in my panties.

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