Page 12 of Riding the Storm
“And out of trouble,” I finish for him.
“That too.”
I toss the duffel bag over my shoulder and take the handle to my suitcase. Then I turn back to Matty. “Point me to my bunkhouse.”
“I thought I’d introduce you to Charli first. She’ll be your new trainer,” Matty replies.
She?
My eyes shift to Shawn, and he has the nerve to look apologetic.
“Charli is a woman?”
“Is that a problem?” Matty asks.
My eyes flit back to her. She crosses her arms across her chest and glares back at me defiantly.
“Of course not,” I grit out.
“Good. Because she’s one hell of a trainer and deserves respect.” She emphasizes the last word and narrows her eyes.
“You got it,” I say.
She turns toward the riding arena to the left of the barn and calls out, “Charli, come here for a second, will ya? I want to introduce you to someone.”
My eyes land on a vision—dark hair tumbling in loose waves down her shoulders catching the sunlight as she moves. Her jeans fit like they were made for her, hugging strong legs that grip the saddle with firm control. Her white ruffled blouse is tucked in at the waist, the fabric soft and feminine, a stark contrast to the worn, rugged leather boots on her feet.
Her cowboy hat sits low on her brow, shadowing sharp, determined eyes as she guides the horse beneath her—every movement fluid, confident, commanding. The reins respond to the slightest shift of her wrist, the horse reading her with ease. There’s power in her posture, elegance in the way she leans forward, coaxing the animal into a perfect turn.
I watch as she leads the horse to the gate, unable to look away.
She dismounts and then pats the horse’s muzzle and speaks softly to it before setting it loose. Then she exits the arena and heads to where we’re standing. Stopping at Matty’s side.
“Charli, I’d like you to meet Bryce Raintree,” Matty introduces. “Bryce, this is my sister Charli Storm. She’s the head horse and riding trainer here at Wildhaven Storm, and she’s the one you’ll be working with and answering to while you’re here.”
Answering to?
I let the question slide as she outstretches her arm and I take her offered hand.
“Bryce—your ward, apparently,” I clip.
Her eyes narrow slightly at my comment.
“Charli, and I’m nobody’s babysitter,” she says.
“Yeah, well, that’s what the hell it sounds like to me,” I say, swinging my eyes back to Shawn, who just shakes his head.
“I’m sorry, ladies. Ry’s not usually this impolite. He’s just being an ass because he’s mad at me. He’s not exactly enthusiastic about the direction his career is veering toward and apparently blames me instead of the doctors’ sound medical advice. But I’m hoping that he’ll come around after you’ve had a chance to work with him, Miss Storm.”
Charli steps forward, and her sapphire-blue eyes home in on me. “I’m not your enemy. I’m here to help you.”
I laugh. “Contrary to what Shawn has told you, I don’t need help. I just need time.”
She clicks her tongue. “Let’s get one thing straight, Raintree. You do need my help, and I’m not here to be your whipping post. So, whatever frustration you have with your predicament, you need to point it elsewhere. I’m not gonna put up with a shitty attitude. I’m here to work. You’re here to work. And as long as you do that, we’ll get along just fine. You show up late or hungover or if you half-ass it, I’ll put you on the next plane back to wherever the hell you came from. But if you listen and follow the program I put together, I’ll teach you how to stay on a bronc and maybe save your career. Fair?”
Teach me how to stay on a bronc?I have to hold back my laughter.
“Guess we’ll see,” I say.
