Page 28 of Cougar Chronicles

Jack’s redwood deck wrapped around the back and both sides of the ranch house. They sat together on an old-fashioned porch swing holding hands, not saying much, until the sun set and the stars shone in the black night sky. Holly’s breath caught at the beauty of it all. Jack had been right. The country sky held secrets she’d never seen. The Big Dipper was vibrant in its luminescence, and lesser stars she hadn’t known existed twinkled all around it.

Once she’d breathed in her fill of the night sky’s radiance, Jack undressed her slowly, kissing each new inch of skin as he exposed it. When they were both naked, he grabbed the blanket hanging over the back of the porch swing, took her hand, and led her to a secluded spot on the soft grass.

The sounds of the evening shrouded them—crickets chirping, a delicate breeze rustling through the aspen grove that surrounded Jack’s house, and the soft groans rumbling from Jack into her as he made love to her slowly, sweetly, and gently underneath the stars.

Later he led her to his bedroom and made love to her again.

* * *

“It’s easy, Holly, you just stand on the near side and get on.”

“Near side?” Holly eyed Sam’s eager face, and then turned to the creamy white animal that was already saddled. “You mean the one I’m nearest to?”

“He means the left side, sugar,” Jack said. “You need to speak in non-cowboy language for Holly, Sam.”

“Sorry, Daddy. But I can’t believe she never rode a horse before!”

“She lives in the city, pal. Not everyone lives on a ranch like we do.”

“Well, everyone should.”

Jack laughed. “Can’t argue with you there.” Then to Holly, “Just put your left foot in the stirrup, and hold onto the withers.”

“Jack”—Holly rolled her eyes—“what the hell is a wither?”

“Non-cowboy lingo, Daddy,” Sam reminded him.

Jack’s lazy smile lit up his face. “It isn’t that easy, is it, pal? The withers, sugar, with an ‘s.’ It’s the highest part of the back at the base of the neck.”

He patted the horse’s withers, or so Holly assumed.

“Ladybelle here is gentle, and she’ll take good care of you.”

“I hope so. I have to say, I’m a bit nervous.”

“The horse’ll sense your fear, Holly,” Sam said. “Right, Daddy?”

“Sam’s right, sugar. You need to take control.”

“Right. Take control of an animal that outweighs me by four times.”

Jack eyed her and she warmed under his gaze. “I’d say about eight or nine times, sugar. But that’d probably make you more nervous.”

Holly’s tummy lurched. Eight or nine times? “Thanks for that, Jack.”

“Aw, Holly,” Sam said, “Ladybelle’s our most gentlest horse here. I’ve been ridin’ her since I was knee high to a grasshopper.”

Holly shook her head. Sam wasn’t much more than knee high to a grasshopper now. “Okay, here goes.” She grasped the “withers” and lifted her left leg into the stirrup. Quite a difference from the only stirrups she’d encountered in the last year—those at the gynecologist’s office. Her skin chilled for a split second until she wiped the negative image from her mind. Today was for her and Jack and Sam. She’d worry about the rest tomorrow.

Make that Monday.

Tuesday at the latest.

“Okay, sugar, just push up with your left leg and swing your other leg over the back of Ladybelle there, onto the saddle.”

“But be careful you don’t kick her flank,” Sam warned, “or you’ll knock the wind out of her.”

“Flank?”

---