Page 63 of Headed for Home

“But that’s next month.” August just wandered into town, chasing off July.

Cassidy shrugs. “She might go even sooner. That’s how the business thrives. I can’t keep them all.”

“You’re not keeping any.”

“Hush.” Cassidy swats away my argument. “We have Fire and Snowball. The others come and go.”

Yet the way she interacts with Leita seems special, even to a clueless novice like me. Even a simple task such as brushing her coat is done with careful consideration and precision. The horseobviously respects her in return. She stands politely while we finish grooming her until not a speck of dust lingers.

Cassidy’s touch is gentle while she combs through the roan’s mane and tail. “Done.”

“Teamwork makes the cheese churn.” I hold up a palm for her to slap.

“Ummm…”

“Just go with it.” The unmistakable noise of goofing off snags my attention. I peek over and spy the twins lifting Fire’s leg. “Are they okay over there?”

“They’re picking his feet.” Cassidy demonstrates on Leita, scooping muck out with a handheld tool.

“That doesn’t hurt them?” I don’t bother asking about the metal shoes nailed into the hoof.

“Not if you do it right. Just avoid the frog.” She points to a triangular section that sticks out.

“I have so much to learn.”

“Only if you’re interested. Most of it isn’t necessary if you’re just riding once or twice for fun.”

“Your passion ignites mine,” I rasp.

Her throat works with a thick swallow. “Are we still talking about horses?”

“And everything else you’re passionate about.”

More giggles from the kids knocks Cassidy from her stupor. She blinks and the heat clears from those green depths I love drowning in. “You don’t have to worry about them with Fire. He couldn’t hurt a fly. That trusty Appaloosa is the reason I didn’t quit riding as a kid after a few bad apples almost ruined the experience for me.”

I release a low whistle. “Wow, he must be old.”

Cassidy smacks my abs, the back of her hand bouncing off the muscle. “Rude.”

“We’re the same age,” I drawl.

“Doesn’t mean you won’t trade me in for a younger model down the road.”

“I’d never. You’re it for me, beauty. Even when we’re wrinkled and gray.”

“We’ll see.” She twirls away, disappearing into the tack room.

A wool pad is in her grip, which goes on Leita’s back. I rush to carry the saddle for her and heft it where she instructs. She explains the process to me, but most of the equipment terms and purposes resemble gibberish. That doesn’t stop me from nodding along. Before I realize how efficient she is, both horses are ready to go.

“Question,” I pipe up as we walk our steeds to the arena. Fire allows me to lead him easily, which I appreciate.

Cassidy’s gaze slices across the yard to where Kenzie and Charlie are wrestling with the goats. “Just one?”

“For now. Doesn’t a bridle usually have a bit?” I’m purposefully putting my fresh knowledge to the test.

“Not always. We use hackamores while training.” She points to the curved rope on Leita’s nose. “This keeps her mouth soft. It’s a personal preference.”

“You’re my personal preference.” I dip toward her for a kiss. Instead of a romantic gesture, the helmet she insisted I wear smacks her forehead. “This thing is a menace. Why don’t you have one on?

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