Page 93 of Fragile Heart

I make it a point to end up in the barn before Caleb. I may have gotten better at tacking up a horse over the last several weeks, but there isn’t a chance in hell that I’m letting him see me struggle with Phoebe’s saddle. I suppose it’s probably time to admit she and I need to be seen by the local saddler and get fit for something custom to us both. Brandon’s old saddle fits her great, but it’s large enough to be a downright hassle for me to handle.

I mull over the best way to ask Caleb before ultimately tossing out the idea. He’d be offended at the idea of me paying for it even though I have more money than I honestly know what to do with. Scott will probably know someone, though. And he won’t have the same protective, intrinsic need to coddle or provide for me.

Maybe I’ll invite him and Lynn out to breakfast or coffee. The idea puts a smile on my face, and I hum under my breath as I pull the cross-under bridle Emily and Melissa taught me to use from the tack room. I also manage to grab the two saddle blankets Phoebe seems to prefer.

If you’d told me in April that horses have preferred equipment, I would have looked at you like you had lost your mind. Now here I am at six in the morning—before the sun has even fully risen—making sure the white and black chevron isn’t dirty so I can use it on a morning ride with an Alpha who happens to be my scent match.

An Alpha that I’ve absolutely fallen head-over-heels in love with in the span of… I count back the weeks. Less than two months. I’ve fallen in love with Caleb in less than two full months.

Wild.

Phoebe’s still quiet when I hang the bridle on the hook in front of her stall and let the saddle blankets drop to the ground. She doesn’t resist when I lead her out of the stall and tie her out so I can work through the process.

My mind quiets with each step, the brushing and the placing of the blankets and the guiding of the bridle over her ears and the easing of the bit into her mouth. She shakes her head as I’m adjusting her mane so it’s not caught in the bridle’s leather straps.

“I know it’s early,” I tell her, scratching her nose. I’m not normally out to the barn until seven-thirty during the week. She pushes into my hand, and I smile. “I’ve been told it’ll be worth it, though. If it’s not, you’re welcome to freak out on him.”

She shakes her head again. It’s not a nod, but I’m taking it as one anyway. I turn on my heel and head back to the tack room, psyching myself up for the weight of her saddle. It’s just as heavy and unruly as the first time Emily, Melissa and I went riding atthe end of May. I grunt as I pull it into my belly, trying to get better leverage.

I don’t even manage to take three steps down the corridor toward Phoebe before there’s a set of arms wrapping around me, pulling the saddle from my grasp and lifting it over my head.

Fire licks through my core, and my scent grows stronger, quickly enough that my cheeks darken. I hadn’t bothered with scent blockers. It felt… unnecessary. Though now, despite being fully clothed in jeans and a T-shirt as well as the flannel shirt of Ethan’s Hudson smuggled to me before the Fourth of July, it feels like I’m standing here naked.

Caleb’s purr starts up, and my flush darkens even more.

“I can handle it,” I say without much fight.

Caleb’s already walking into the barn when I turn around, the saddle held easily in his grasp. I take a minute to soak him in, his dark wash jeans and blue shirt that’s stretched taut across his shoulders and back, the fabric hugging his skin like it’s been painted on. That tattoo on his arm is mostly visible again. He saddles Phoebe faster than I’ve ever managed.

“Are these already set for you?” he asks, motioning to one of the stirrups as I finally manage to cross the barn. “Beau tends to work her on the weekends.”

I scratch Phoebe’s nose, and she pushes into my hand.

“Yeah, I’m the only one that’s been riding her this summer,” I say.

With a nod, he drops the stirrup so it sits against Phoebe’s side and focuses on me. My breath catches in my throat.

His look… I’d burn down the world to have him look at me like that for the rest of my life. Lavender gets stronger, and he grins.

“Ready?” I ask.

He pulls me against him and kisses me, tangling a hand into my hair and running his thumb along my cheekbone.

When he pulls away, he murmurs, “Give me five minutes to saddle up Daphne.”

Chapter Forty-One

CALEB

I’ve already spread the blanket out and weighed down the corners by the time Brielle slides off Phoebe without comment, keeping tight hold of the lead rope that’s been tucked into the leather strapping of the bridle during the ride. Her hands are steady as she ties it to Daphne’s lead, though her legs wobble a bit.

I’m up and across the clearing, needing to make sure she’s all right.

The ride into the canyon wasn’t quite as smooth as I’d hoped. Phoebe isn’t the biggest fan of the grade, and she spooked once when a fox went running through some of the trees.

Brielle smiles as I approach, and happiness warms me. Her eyes drop back to the lead rope she’s working with, her eyebrows furrowing. I run my hand down Daphne’s neck to keep from taking over Brielle’s work.

“You sure this is enough?” she asks without looking up from the knot she’s made. It’s a bit messy, but it doesn’t budge when I pull on it. “Melissa and Emily are always harping on the stablehands at Misty Mountain about making sure the horses are tied to something solid.”

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