Page 27 of Texas Glory
She shook her head. “My father considered it unseemly and dangerous for a woman to ride a horse.”
He walked backward until he stood by the horse’s shoulder. “You just grab the saddle horn, put a foot in the stirrup, pull up, and swing your other leg over.”
Although she was tall, she still found the horn to be exceptionally high as she wrapped her hands around it. Dallas grabbed the stirrup and held it steady after her foot missed it twice. She slipped her booted foot into the stirrup, took a deep breath, and bounced up. Dallas grabbed her waist with one hand, pressed his other hand to her backside, and hoisted her over. Heat flaming her cheeks, Cordelia settled into the saddle. No one had ever touched her so intimately.
As the horse shied to the side, Cordelia dug her fingers into the saddle horn. Dallas grabbed the bridle, and the horse calmed.
“Take these,” he said, holding the reins up to her.
Cordelia stared at the strips of leather threaded through his fingers. Long fingers that had easily spanned half her waist. She reached out and took the reins. “Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” he grumbled as he stalked around to his horse and mounted in one fluid movement. “Come on. Give Beauty a gentle kick.”
She did as he instructed, and Beauty followed Dallas’s horse at a slow pace. She wondered how it would feel to gallop across the plains, the wind blowing in her face. She could feel the breeze now, just a slight breath over her cheeks.
The man riding beside her looked as though he’d been born to the saddle, as though he and his horse were one.
Cordelia glanced around, expecting others to join them. “Where’s the escort?”
Dallas stared at her. “What escort?”
“My father always insisted that I travel with at least six men to guard me. I just assumed your men—”
“I protect what’s mine,” he said in a taut voice.
He didn’t have to move his hand to the gun resting along his thigh or the rifle housed in his saddle to convince her that he spoke truthfully.
“What … what is your horse’s name?” she asked.
“Satan.”
The black devil rode Satan. It somehow seemed appropriate.
“I had a devil of a time breaking him,” Dallas explained. “In the end, I had to let Houston handle him.”
“You sound disappointed.”
He shrugged. “That’s where Houston’s talent lies, taming horses.”
“What is your talent?”
He held her gaze. “I build empires.”
They rode west for over an hour with nothing but silence and a soft breeze between them.
Dallas fought to keep his gaze focused on the far horizon instead of on his new wife. He’d thought she had looked lovely dressed in white yesterday. In red, she was devastatingly beautiful. The deep shade brought out the richness of her porcelain skin, black hair, and brown eyes.
The combination was almost enough to make him change his mind about what he’d decided to do this morning. But the hesitancy in her voice when she spoke to him and the fear that still resided in her eyes kept him from altering his plans.
He drew Satan to a halt at the top of the small rise and turned the horse slightly. Beauty stopped beside him.
“Why did we stop?” Cordelia asked. “To watch the sunrise.”
He couldn’t explain why he wanted to watch the sun ease over the horizon with this woman by his side. Dawn wasn’t his favorite time of day. He preferred the night, when the clouds faded away to reveal the stars. The stars had guided him home countless times. As a boy, he’d even wished on them.
He had thought about asking Cordelia to ride with him last night when he couldn’t sleep, but he’d needed time alone to think, to wade through the quagmire he’d inadvertently created. He didn’t know if he could untangle the mess, but he was hoping he could give them a smoother trail to follow.
He heard her small intake of breath as the sun began to wash away the darkness. He wondered if she’d ever watched the start of a new day. He knew so little about her. It had all seemed unimportant until last night.
