Page 20 of His Accidental Cowboy

“He’s definitely got experience, and I’m grateful to learn from him. He isn’t joining us for lunch?”

“I asked him,” Brand said, “but he said he’d be fine with his sandwich.”

“Guess the teacher needs a bit of a break from his student,” Hugo joked. “You’ll get sick of him at some point or another, too, Wyatt. Give it time.”

Wyatt wasn’t so sure about that, but he laughed along with the teasing. “I look forward to the challenge.”

Wayne Woods joined them moments later, and Wyatt had another bizarre moment when he shook the eldest Woods’s hand. His Maybe Grandfather was as kind and welcoming as Rose had been, and in some ways, the pair made him think of Mr. and Mrs. Claus, minus the white hair and red suits. They were just...nice, and it confused the hell out of Wyatt. He deflected that by concentrating on the delicious food and answering any questions lobbed his way as vaguely as possible. Rose was curious about the family he’d left behind, and after a few brief responses from Wyatt, Brand stepped in and redirected the conversation to the upcoming farm equipment auction.

Wyatt would never admit he was grateful for the save, or that it made him like Brand a little bit more. He needed to stay objective about every member of this family until he sussed out the truth.

At the end of the meal, he thanked Rose and Wayne several times for inviting him to lunch, and for their faith in his ability to live up to Brand’s expectations. Rose walked him to the front door. “Welcome to the extended Woods family, Wyatt. I know you’re still on a probationary period but you’ve got a fighting spirit.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“I look forward to seeing you around the ranch. And I know you’re young, but don’t let those older boys boss you around too much.”

“I’ll do my best.” He was not allowed to like her as much as he wanted to, but she was warmer than either of his other grandmothers. More genuine in a way he couldn’t explain.

Brutus barely raised his head when Wyatt crossed the porch and went down the steps to the yard. Dog trotted over from the bar and butted her head against his thigh, so he reached down to scratch behind her soft ears. Maybe getting into Dog’s good graces would help endear him to her daddy.

Speaking of her daddy, Dog followed him into the barn. The break room was empty and so was the immediate interior of the barn. Curious, he went out to the corral. Jackson stood near the far fence with Shirley Temple, feeding her what looked like a carrot. Wyatt hadn’t made any specific kind of noise, but Jackson still looked up. Right at him.

“You ready to get back to walking, now that you’re done schmoozing the owners?” Jackson asked.

“Bring it on,” Wyatt retorted. “I can finally mount the horse. Can I learn how to ride it now? And ride it in a way that evokes...pleasure for us both?”

Jackson’s eyes narrowed. “You do anything that causes a horse pain, they’ll buck you right into the dirt.”

“Then I guess you better teach me to ride right, huh? Or walk, I guess? Since we’re still in walking mode. Walk right? Walk the line?”

“You wanna walk the line, you better get yourself a good singing voice, Mr. Cash. Otherwise, get your ass up on Shirley Temple and we’ll see what you can actually do for the rest of the day. Might be a little sore after ridin’ for a few hours, but that’s what ice packs are for.”

“You some sort of pain-loving dom there, boss?”

His nostrils flared in an intensely sexy way. “Not much for pain, but I do like seeing things done right. Might even know a few good punishments for students who don’t put in a proper effort.”

“Punishments, huh? You know, when I was a kid there was always a rumor that the school principal kept a wooden paddle in his office for students who acted out. You got one of those?”

Jackson smirked at him. “Test me and you’ll find out, kid.”

“Promise?”

“Don’t beg for somethin’ you don’t really want.” His dark eyes stared hard into Wyatt’s a beat, and the look made Wyatt’s blood pulse. He definitely needed to get Jackson alone somewhere off this property. “Now get your skinny ass up on Shirley Temple. We got work to do.”

“Yes, sir.”

This was going to be so much fun.

His afternoon turned out to be a lot less fun than Wyatt had anticipated. After those first flirty moments postlunch, Jackson’s sense of humor disappeared and he turned back into the strict teacher/coach. And not the fun kind of strict. After two hours up on Shirley Temple, walking her, learning voice and noise commands, and how to guide her properly with both reins and his heels, his ass hurt. A lot.

Instead of easing up, Jackson gave Shirley Temple a break and had Wyatt saddle up Cobblepot, a male horse with a bit more personality and a good hand taller than Shirley Temple (thanks to the internet, Wyatt already knew horses were measured in “hands” and not feet).

“Who came up with the name Cobblepot?” Wyatt asked as he tightened the saddle strap.

“I think Rem named this one.” Jackson was leaning against the barn wall, watching and chewing on a piece of hay. The position was insanely hot but Wyatt was too busy tacking the horse right to properly ogle his teacher. “He liked her coloring with the white patches on black. Made him look like a penguin, so Rem named him after the Batman character.”

“Penguin actually had a name?”

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