Page 9 of Cowboy Stole My Heart
“She’s a beautiful horse,” Sam called out, wanting to break the ice. He’d been tired and ready to get home the first time he’d met her, and this time he was hoping things wouldn’t be so tense between them.
“I didn’t realize you were a show jumping coach,” she said dryly, riding over to him and halting beside him. She dropped her reins and dismounted, landing beside him with a soft thud.
“I’m not,” he admitted. “But sometime it’s a hell of a lot easier to see the problems on the ground than it is when you’re the one in the saddle.”
“Is that right?” she asked, still looking frosty. “Because until you showed up we hadn’t taken a pole, and I’m not exactly an amateur.”
He shrugged, wondering if he was supposed to know of her show jumping reputation. The truth was, he only followed rodeo and Western riding, which meant he knew very little about her area of interest. “I was only trying to help. The truth is that you’ll never get her clearing fences any higher unless you tweak the way you’re riding her.”
Mia glared at him. “Are you serious? We’ve jumped bigger than this before and won.” She paused, but he could tell she wanted to say something else. “In fact, weregularlywin over bigger fences than this. I ride to beat the competition and that’s exactly what we do.”
He hadn’t meant to annoy her, but somehow she looked more pissed than she had when she’d first met him.
“I’m guessing you compete then?” he asked, taking the reins over the horse’s head and holding them for her. She snatched them off him, holding her own horse, and he stepped back to give her some space. “Have you been…”
“Yes, I compete. I thought that was obvious,” she said. “And Indi is my best horse. She might be little but she has a big heart and she never lets me down. We’ve actually just returned from a season in Europe and I have a career as a show jump rider, Sam, so if you’re wondering why you’re managing to annoy me so much treating me like a beginner, that’s why. I compete all show jumping season, and when I’m not competing I’m here training.”
Sam nodded. “Got it.” He should have done some research about his new boss.
“Any other expert comments?” she asked dryly.
“My suggestion was about tweaking the way you ride her, not changing anything dramatic,” Sam said, impressed now that he knew she was obviously good, and serious, about her riding. “She has a lot of guts, but you’re relying on that instead of riding her into the jumps. I bet you ride her differently than you do your others, and I don’t have to know anything about show jumping to help you ride your horse better. My job is to improve the relationship between horse and human, period.”
She looked at him, her anger seeming to slide away and be replaced with something less fiery. “Maybe I do. I’m not sure.”
“My guess is that youridethem more instead of just trusting them, and with this horse? It’s a fine line between you telling her what to do, without interfering with her natural ability.”
She stared at him, and he wondered what the hell she was about to say, she had such a serious look on her face.
“Maybe you can watch me ride again later then,” she said, clucking to Indi as she started to walk off. “So long as you don’t try to tell me how to ride a goddamn jump again.”
Sam followed alongside her, falling into an easy pace and trying not to laugh. “I don’t make a habit of apologizing, but I think I judged you too harshly the other day. You’re a damn good rider, so don’t go taking my tips as criticism.” He was fast realizing he’d underestimated her actual riding talent, and her personality.
Mia stopped walking and he glanced at her. The horse halted beside her.
“Too quick to judge a book by its cover, right?” she asked, looking smug, or maybe she was just surprised by his words and felt the need to say something smart to avoid showing her embarrassment. He didn’t care either way.
“I give praise where it’s due, that’s all. You did good out there, and yeah, maybe I was a bit hasty in my judgment.”
She nodded. “You’d think I’d be used to it by now, but I’m not.”
“We all get judged, it’s part of life.”
She sighed, audibly, and he stood back so she could walk Indi into her stall and take her gear off.
“Can you imagine working your ass off all your life to prove yourself, and then all you hear is negative crap about how you’d never have gotten where you were without help from your father?”
He shrugged. “No, but I do know what it’s like to be judged because of who your daddy is. Mine was an alcoholic asshole who failed miserably to look after us when our mama ran away. It’s fair to say he did a really crappyjob of it, and I’m damn lucky I didn’t end up tarred by the same brush.” Sam paused, wondering if he should say more and deciding not to. His father was gone now, but he still felt the need to work extra hard to prove that he was nothing like the man who’d raised him.
“Ah, so maybe we do have something in common.”
He liked the sound of her laughter, and how much softer her voice had become. “Tell me, it can’t be all that bad. Living here, having all this. Is it worth being pissed at the world for judging you on this one?”
Mia looked at him over the half-door of the stable, her blue-green eyes meeting his. “Yeah, it is. Because, aside from my first horse and that stallion you’ve come to work, I’ve bought all my show jumpers myself, from my own prize money, and I paid my own damn flights to Europe and worked hard to keep myself over there. I fund my own team of horses, I always have, and I don’t even have a groom so I never have to ask anyone for money. I work as hard as anyone out there on the show jumping circuit, but it doesn’t seem to count for anything. Sometimes I wonder why I’ve always been so stubborn, since people’s opinions of me have never changed. Maybe I should just cash in my trust fund checks?”
Sam was quickly starting to comprehend how wrong he’d been about little miss rich girl in more ways than one, and he liked this side of her. Sure, she was mouthy and quick to judge, but then so had he been, and he appreciated a straight shooter. Maybe they’d both judged one another all wrong.
“No, that’s not right,” he said. “Because you know, and it’s you who matters.”
