Page 90 of Grady

“Not unless necessary. I mostly shoot into the air to scare them off. Don’t worry, they’re more afraid of you than you are of them.”

“I highly doubt that.”

He chuckled, mounted up, removed his foot from the stirrup and held out his hand for Savannah.

“Give me your hand, put your foot in the stirrup, and I’ll lift you up.”

He observed her take a deep breath before putting her foot on the stirrup and extending her hand to him. He lifted her up onto the horse, settling her in front of him. She wrapped her arms around his waist.

“That’s a long way down,” she exclaimed.

“He’s a tall horse, standing at seventeen hands.”

“Like I have any idea what that means,” she admitted.

“I’ll explain it some other time.” Grady chuckled before nudging the horse with his knees and leading them toward the doors of the barn.

“Stop,” she said and he immediately reined in the horse.

“What’s wrong?”

She laughed and pointed at the sign beside the doors.

“That sign, ‘Keep the gate closed, no matter what the horses tell you.’ That’s funny.”

Grady chuckled, nudged the horse then rode out of the barn.

As they rode through the east pasture, Grady pointed out the cattle and then rode on to a pond. He stopped the horse, helping her down before dismounting himself.

“Where are you going to tie the horse?”

“He’s used to ground tying. It means he won’t go anywhere if the reins are touching the ground.”

“How did you train him to do that?”

“I didn’t. Trick Dillon, the best horse whisperer in the area, trained him.”

“That’s amazing. I don’t know Trick, but I love his name.” She laughed when Grady shook his head.

“This is where my dad and I go fishing,” Grady explained.

“It’s so beautiful here,” she remarked once again.

“I agree. There’s no place on earth more stunning than right here, unless it’s you in my bed.” He removed a bedroll from behind the saddle and laid out a blanket on the grass. Taking her hand, he helped her sit down before joining her. He gazed out over the water, mesmerized by the way the sun’s rays reflected off its surface like glass.

“Should have brought my fishing pole,” he muttered.

“I don’t fish.” She shook her head.

“It’s very relaxing.”

“I’ll take your word for it, but there is no way I’d touch a worm.” She shuddered.

Grady laughed. “You can use lures instead.”

“And what happens if I actually catch something?”

“Let me guess, you won’t touch a fish either?”

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