Page 39 of Resisting Isaac
She shakes her head and goes back into a stance. I head toward the stables, letting her get back to it.
By the secondweek of training camp, I’ve learned that I’m not a fan of mornings that start with directors barking instructions and people pretending they know what ranch life looks like.
But I do my job anyway. I get to the stables early every morning. Mostly to see her. To sneak a few minutes of alone time before the rest of the world intrudes.
She’s the first one to the stables every single morning.
This morning, I had to run Champ since he’s been neglected. So, I missed our morning teasing session.
When I arrive at the arena, Elena’s astride a dapple-gray mare, spine straight, hands steady, her legs in perfect position.She’s riding. Confident. Controlled. At ease in the saddle, seated beautifully.
She leans into the turn around the barrels like she’s been doing it her whole life, her braid flying out behind her, eyes sharp with focus.
She’s gorgeous.
And she’s killing it.
I’m pretty sure I forget to breathe until she comes to a smooth stop and tips her hat at the hands nearby.
“You see that?” Eli James says beside me, sunglasses pushed up in his hair, arms crossed as he watches her. “She’s a natural.”
I glance at him.
America’s favorite misunderstood bad boy, with his perfect hair and too-white teeth. Wearing jeans that are more fashion than function, and a shirt that makes it clear he spends every free second at the gym.
“Yeah,” I say coolly. “I noticed. Aren’t you supposed to be at the equestrian center? Willow scare you off already?”
“Yeah. I mean, no. She had to check on something here so we’re just stopping in for a minute before heading back to the center.” He doesn’t look away from the ring. “I wish I had her confidence on a horse. You must be one hell of a trainer.”
“I didn’t do that,” I mutter. “She was that good when she got here.”
I narrow my eyes, a little too aware of the way he’s still watching her.
Until I notice something else.
His attention shifts.
A slight turn of his head.
Just enough to track someone walking across the arena.
Willow.
My sister’s wearing riding breeches and boots, her hair ina messy bun, her posture straight and no-nonsense as she checks a clipboard.
She doesn’t even glance at Eli. But he can’t stop staring at her.
Interesting.
Elena rides over and swings down from the saddle, landing light on her feet. She flushes when she sees me watching.
“Was that okay?” she asks, brushing her hands on her thighs.
I walk over, taking the reins from her gently and giving the horse a quick once-over before turning to her.
“That was more than okay.”
Her brows lift.
