Page 26 of Trussed In Hope
“He listened.”
“He respected,” I corrected. “There’s a difference.” I closed the space just enough to let her feel the strength in my voice asmuch as the words. “He doesn’t follow because he has to. He follows because you were clear, firm, and then you let go.”
She looked up at me, her lips parted, her cheeks faintly flushed. “And if I hadn’t?”
“Then he’d test you. Push back. Animals always do. People too.”
Diesel shifted again, ears flicking at the sound of my voice. I reached around Emberlynn, covering her hand with mine on the rope, guiding her through another subtle tug. Diesel stepped back, smooth and obedient. I let her feel how little it took—just the right pressure, then release.
Her breath caught when I didn’t pull away immediately, my hand still firm over hers. “It’s all about control,” I said low against her ear. “Knowing when to hold on… and when to let go.”
She swallowed hard, the rope trembling slightly in her grip. But Diesel stayed steady, like he knew exactly what was hanging between us wasn’t about him at all. I stepped back, letting her hold the rope on her own. Diesel shifted slightly, waiting, and I watched her.
“Go ahead,” I said. “Try it.”
Her eyes flicked up to mine, sharp and curious. “Try what?”
“Apply the pressure again by yourself,” I said. “See how he responds. Then release.”
She hesitated, then squared her shoulders, her fingers tightening on the lead rope. Diesel’s ears twitched forward. She gave a small tug.
The horse didn’t budge. Her eyebrows furrowed, and I leaned closer, voice low and even. “More. Just enough to get his attention—don’t overdo it.”
She adjusted carefully but deliberate. Diesel stepped back just as she let the rope slacken. She froze, glancing at me, lips parted. “Like this?”
I nodded slowly. “Exactly. That’s respect. Not fear. Control isn’t about force—it’s about clarity.”
Her chin lifted, a spark in her eyes I hadn’t seen before. “And what if I don’t want to follow the rules?” She teased lightly, tugged the rope again, testing Diesel—but more than that, testing me.
I met her gaze, feeling the heat in the air between us. “Then I’d hope you know there are consequences,” I said, letting my words linger. My hand hovered near hers again, ready to guide, but not touching—letting her choose.
She didn’t flinch. She gave another subtle tug, smirking. “I enjoy knowing I have choices. Makes it more interesting.”
The corner of my mouth lifted, admiration mixing with the low burn of desire. “You’re going to make this interesting, that’s for sure.”
Diesel shifted, as if sensing the tension, but stayed calm. Emberlynn’s grip on the rope relaxed slightly, but her eyes never left mine. The barn felt smaller, hotter, more alive with every glance, every subtle movement.
“Lesson three, city girl,” I murmured, finally stepping closer, “is about pressure, release… and learning who’s really in charge.”
Her lips curved into a smile, teasing but serious. “And do you thinkyou’rein charge, Hardison?”
I didn’t answer immediately. I let her words hang, letting her feel the weight of them—and me—between us. Then I leaned just close enough for her to think that I was going to kiss her. “For now, kind of,” I said, voice low. “But that can change… if you’re willing to follow the rules. Can you be a good girl for me, kitten?”
Her laugh was soft, almost breathless, but her eyes sparkled with challenge. “We’ll see about that.”
The tension between us didn’t break. It simmered, thick and unspoken, while Diesel watched, calm but aware, like even he knew this lesson wasn’t just about him.
I led her out of the barn, Diesel following behind with a soft whicker. The morning air had warmed, carrying the scent of grass and a new day, and the pastures stretched wide under the sun.
“Lesson four,” I said, keeping my tone low, deliberate. “Cattle. Different from horses. Bigger, slower—but just as smart. And just as stubborn.”
Her eyes widened slightly, taking in the cattle milling in the distance. “I didn’t realize they were… aware.”
“Very aware,” I said, stepping closer to one cow grazing nearby. “Every movement, every sound—they notice. They remember. And they test you.”
I handed her the clipboard I’d been using for notes. “I want you to walk that herd with me. Watch their behavior. Notice which ones respond to your presence and which push the boundaries.”
She lifted her chin, a faint spark of challenge in her eyes. “And what if I don’t handle it right?”
