Page 65 of Not Our First Rodeo
I shake my head, pushing up off the barre. My back is sore from my growing stomach and my feet have begun to swell from the summer heat. There’s nothing I’d love more than to sit at my desk for the next few hours, sorting through all the paperwork I’ve been neglecting and planning out choreography in my head, but there’s something more important I need to do right now.
“Come on,” I say, and motion toward the door.
Maya moves into action, heading for her pile of belongings on the floor in the corner. “Are you taking me home?”
“No,” I answer. “Put some pants on before we leave.”
“Where are we going?”
I turn and look back at her. She’s on the floor, unwrapping the ribbons tied around her ankles, her hair beginning to fall out of her bun and into her face. “Lucky Stars.”
Dust kicks up beneath the truck tires as I turn down the familiar road to Lucky Stars Ranch. It’s been so long since I’ve been anywhere but the big house, but it doesn’t make it feel any less like returning home after a long stint away. Lucky Stars was the first place I fell in love with that wasn’t the studio, and I’m hoping it has the same effect on Maya.
“Why are we going here?” she asks, her arms crossed over her chest, her voice carrying a hint of a pout. Despite it, her gaze is fixed out the windshield, taking in the beauty that is the ranch. No amount of teenage angst has ever been able to stand up against Lucky Stars. Even when Cooper was in high school and itching to leave Larkspur, the ranch was always his north star, guiding him right back here.
“You need something other than dance.”
Beside me, she rolls her eyes again. “So you’ve said.”
My mouth twitches as I fight to hold back a smile. No amount of sassiness is going to deter me. “And this is how we fix that.”
“What am I going to do, shovel horseshit?”
I level a flat glare at her, and she looks away, embarrassed, cheeks glowing a pretty shade of pink.
“Sorry,” she mutters.
“You’re not going to shovel horseshit,” I say, and her mouth curves into the barest hint of a smile. “You’re going to ride.”
Her eyes blow wide. “A horse?”
“No, a unicorn.” We pass over a bump in the road that I can feel in my stomach. Something I’ve noticed about being pregnant is that I am so much more aware of my abdomen, of every movement and jolt. It’s not bad, just different.
“I’ve never ridden a horse,” Maya says.
It’s practically unheard of for someone who grew up in Montana, but I was the same way. When a person’s life is devoted to one thing, it doesn’t leave room for much of anything else.
“Luckily, I know the best teacher.”
Technically, Beau is a horse trainer, but he taught me to ride. And he taught me to love it. The first day he brought me to the ranch, he took me into the stables and introduced me to the horse I’d later come to think of as my own. Her name is Sienna, and Beau picked her for me because she was calm, which eased my jitters, and nearing the end of her working years, so she wasn’t getting as much attention or exercise as she was used to.
That first day, I was too nervous to even go near her. Beau placed his hands on my hips and eased me forward until I finally put my hand through the rails of the stall. I barely contained a squeal when her muzzle tickled my palm. My heart raced in my chest, a fact I tried desperately to hide from Beau, something Iwas sure he’d see as weakness. Because how was it that I could perform fouettés without a second thought, but I was shaking like a leaf in the presence of ahorse? But he didn’t. He was steady, unmoving, his breath warm on my neck as he inched us forward, his strong body bracing mine. It was the first time I’d ever relied on someone other than one of my dance teachers to hold me steady, to keep me safe, to push me past my limits.
It was the first time outside of dance that I’d ever felt that strange mixture of terror and exhilaration, and I immediately wanted more of it.
And now I hope Maya can find it too.
I pull the truck to a stop in front of the stables, the noise drawing Beau’s attention from where he is in the circular pen, his eyes finding mine through the windshield. Even from here, I can see the smile light up his face, brighter than the summer sunshine, and it makes my heart triple its speed in my chest.
As we climb out of the tuck, he hops over the rails, landing in the grass with a puff of dirt beneath his boots. He looksgoodlike this. I can’t believe I forgot what it’s like to see him in his element. He usually cleans up a bit before heading home, washing the dust from his hands and face, and on especially hot days, sticking his head under the sink to cool the sweat that’s been gathering beneath his hat. But right now, he’s rugged and sun worn, and it does funny things to my insides.
“Hey, Maya,” he says, flashing her a smile before his eyes light back on me. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” He leans in, planting a kiss close enough to my ear that I shiver despite the June heat. From his smirk, I know he clocked it.
It’s not until he lifts his brows that I remember he asked a question, and my face flames. I press my hand to Maya’s back, pulling her from where she’s standing slightly behind me until she’s next to me.
“I want you to teach Maya to ride.”
Beau doesn’t miss a beat. He doesn’t let Maya know it’s not really his job, that he’s doing something special for her. “Absolutely,” he says, meeting her eyes. “Everyone should learn to ride in their lifetime.” A grin crests his lips. “And I know just the horse.”
