Page 55 of Beat around the Bush
“Is it that obvious?” I asked.
“Your jaw was practically laying on the snow,” Lettie admitted.
Brandy snorted as I blew out a breath. “Fine.”
I left the comfort of my spot next to the two of them and headed toward Lennon, who was still atop Winston while talking to Bailey and Travis.
I approached from the side, thankful I at least knew not to approach a horse from behind. Bailey glanced at me, then said something to Lennon. Lennon looked over at me, then said something to the two of them and turned Winston toward me, leading him in my direction.
Once he was a few feet from me, I stopped.
“Having fun?” Lennon asked.
I nodded, glancing at the track where another skier was already being pulled behind another horse. “Lettie and Brandy have been keeping me occupied.”
“Skijoring not doing it for you?”
Oh, little did he know.
“I love it.”
He smiled. “I’m glad. I’d hate for you to be bored.”
With this as my view? Never.
“Are you going around again?” I asked him even though Lettie told me he wasn’t.
He shook his head. “Just the once. I was actually going to untack Winston, if you wanted to help me.”
“Yeah, of course.”
He swung a leg over, dismounting from the horse. He kept the reins in his hand, turning to face me. We were close. Tooclose. Our breaths were coming out in little clouds, the puffs mingling in the air before dissipating.
“The barn will probably be warmer. There’s a space heater in there,” he said, his hazel eyes locked on mine.
Cheers erupted behind me, but I didn’t turn to look at what they were for. Not with Lennon standing in front of me, his horse behind him.
Who allowed cowboys to even exist? Because this should be illegal.
“Right. The barn.” I took a step back, allowing him room to pass.
“Come on.” He started walking and I kept pace beside him, glancing back at Winston behind us.
Horses were so fucking massive this close up.
“You enjoying the hot chocolate?” Lennon asked, making small talk.
I nodded as we entered the barn, the temperature instantly warmer in there. “Lettie sure makes them strong.”
He chuckled, coming up in front of Winston’s stall. He opened the door, leading Winston inside. I leaned against the frame of the door, watching as he slid the bit out of Winston’s mouth and looped the bridle over his shoulder. Winston stood perfectly still, waiting for Lennon to do his thing.
“I’ve never tried one of them,” he admitted.
“Why not?”
“Not a huge fan of alcohol and dairy mixed together.” He walked around Winston, laying something over the saddle. Iknew some of the basics of the tack, but the rest of it escaped me.
Maybe one day he could teach me what all of it was and what purpose each piece of equipment served.
