“Need a boost?” His eyebrows angled up.
“I’ve got it.” She tucked her boot in the stirrup and managed to mount Mirage. Whew. That hadn’t gone too badly. At least she hadn’t fallen and made a fool of herself. She looked down at Tate as she gathered her reins.
He grinned up at her, pride shining from his eyes.
Aw, wasn’t he the sweetest? She was the luckiest girl in Montana, if not the entire world.
“Geronimo for you, Tate.” Weston handed over the reins to a black.
Tate nodded and swung up. “I don’t quite remember how to adjust the stirrup length.”
Weston smirked. “I’ll get that in a minute. For you, Graham, here’s Kennedy. You okay with him?”
“Certainly.” Graham struggled a little, but made it on top of the bay.
Good for him. He looked a little stiff, but if force of will could hold him in one place, he seemed up for it.
Weston appraised the three beginners’ stirrup lengths before nodding.“Okay, I’d like to see you circle the arena.”
A protest died on Stephanie’s lips. At least, the wrangler was taking his job seriously. He had no idea if any of them might fall off at the slightest misstep, and it was wise to get a handle on his charges’ abilities. Would he do this with every group ride with the tourists? He’d better.
Still, she relaxed just a little as Weston appeared to set aside his ego and evaluate each of them objectively. He praised Tate’s seat, gave Graham a few pointers to help him relax, nodded at Stephanie. Apparently, she’d passed the first test. She’d have to tell her newlywed friend Carey Cavanagh. It was on Carey’s begging that Stephanie had accompanied her to learn a few basics prior to Carey’s recent marriage to the youngest Cavanagh brother, Ryder. Like Stephanie, Carey had grown up in western Montana while rarely hanging out with ranch kids.
Now, Stephanie clucked to Mirage and gently squeezed her knees into the mare’s sides. Mirage took off around the arena at a jaw-jolting trot. There was a way to move with the horse, not against it, but Stephanie couldn’t for the life of her remember the trick.
“Relax into her gait,” Weston called.
Easy for him to say. Stephanie’s spine was about to shatter. She closed her eyes, panicked, and sprang them open again. Go with the flow. That’s what Ryder had said. Be one with the horse. She closed her eyes again, trying to sync her movements to Mirage’s. There. That was better.
She opened her eyes and a wide smile crossed her face.
Tate grinned at her from across the arena, where he was attempting something similar. For having not ridden in half his life, he was doing all right.
Stephanie looked behind her to see a white-faced Graham hunched over and clinging to his saddle horn. Huh. Mr. Accountant wasn’t doing so hot.
Would Mr. Sullivan relent in his pursuit of having all of his grandsons comfortable on horseback? Stephanie kind of doubted it. Graham was an inside boy, through and through, and he wasn’t going to adapt to ranch life easily.
She kind of felt sorry for him.
* * *
“You’re amazing.” Tate tugged Stephanie close for a few seconds. “I thought you said you’d hardly ridden before.”
“I haven’t. Just a few times over the past year with my friend Carey. She married a cowboy a few weeks ago.”
“Oh?”
“The weekend before we met in Butte.” She pulled away, not meeting his gaze.
Stephanie had never told him what she was doing two hours from Jewel Lake that April day. What text she’d received that had distracted her so much she’d grated her car against the concrete barricades rather than running into his Lexus. He was thankful she’d missed the SUV, of course, but her eyes — she’d been so frightened, and not only from the near miss.
He didn’t think. But maybe that’s all it had been? It wasn’t likely any of his business. However they’d met, he was thankful they had. Thankful Jamie had taken to her as quickly and firmly as Tate had.
There was so much to be thankful for.
Tate glanced back to the corral, where Weston and Graham remained in a heated discussion, judging from their gestures, though their voices were low. He and Stephanie had been dismissed, so he’d take it. Whatever was happening back there, he had no doubt Graham would fill him in later. Or fill Grandfather in while Tate listened. Either way.
“We’ve got a few minutes before Emma expects us back.” Tate angled his glance at Stephanie. “Want to see some of the guest cabins before we return?”