“I do, actually,” I say, standing next to Tess with reins in hand. Not at all happy about being pulled into another one of Aiden’slessonswhen I had been perfectly content listening to Cypress read by the fire until a few moments ago. “I really do mind.”
His jaw works to the side as we square off, this little evening showdown that we do an apparently integral part of the new routine we’ve developed over the last several weeks of travel. The rest of it goes something like this: I get up in the mornings to find Aiden is already gone. I have breakfast with Cypress. Aiden returns and silently packs up camp. We set off. I ride in the wagon with Cypress and Aiden rides alongside. When we stop to rest, Cypress helps me practice my shooting. Aiden silentlywatches from nearby. We find a place to stop for the night. Aiden silently sets up camp. I help Cypress make dinner. Aiden finally decides to speak to me. We argue. We eat. We go to bed. We start again.
“I know how to ride,” I repeat.
As if he’s actually giving up, Aiden steps toward Tess’s left side and loosens the cinch, pulling both the saddle and blanket free. Then, with a level of ease that only makes me more irritated with him, he carries them over and hoists both of them into the wagon. He also says, “You don’t know how to ride, Cora. You know how to hang on.”
I glare at him as he returns and loops a piece of rope around Tess’s neck, tying it off loosely but securely before removing her bridle. Finished, he tugs the now useless reins from my hand and places them with the rest of her tack before looking at me expectantly.
“What?” I ask, right at the same time he says, “Get on.”
I look between him and Tess, sure that his damn hat must be on too tight to allow him to think clearly. “I can’t get up there without stirrups.”
“You can.”
“No.”
He runs a hand over his face, then plants his hands on his hips before actually conceding, “Fine, we’ll practice that later.” Then he steps forward, and my eyes widen as he takes a knee in front of me and cups his hands together. “All right,nowget on.”
I only stare at him, and with his eyes also on my face, I suddenly feel a lot less angry with him and a lot more like I want to run my fingers through his hair in the same way he’s so fond of doing. I shake my head. “You must be joking.”
He says nothing, only waits until eventually his head tilts, his tongue peeking out over his plush bottom lip, and I tell myself it’s still my lingering annoyance that has me thinking of sinkingmy teeth into that same spot.
“Fine,” I say, sounding a bit too breathy as I place my foot in his waiting palm and allow myself to be hoisted up onto Tess’s bare back, relenting if for no other reason than to create some distance between us. “Happy?”
“Overjoyed,” he bites out, before he gets to his feet and steps back. “How ya feel?”
“Honestly?”
“Yes.”
“As if I’m about to fall off.”
“Thought you knew how to ride?”
“Oh, don’t worry, I’m sure I will be able tohang onlong enough to have Tess trample you.” Tess snorts as if she understands the threat I’ve just made, and I’m not sure who appears more offended: her or Aiden.
“She would never, would you, Tess?” he replies, patting her neck affectionately as his voice drops into a softer, lower register. “She’s too good a girl for that.”
His eyes flick back up to hold mine, and my stomach flips, my skin heating as I shift in the saddle. Well, where thereshouldbe a saddle. Instead, there’s only Tess’s wide, smooth back and hardly anything to use to get a solid grip. “I really don’t think this is a good idea.”
“We’ll take it slow,” he says, sounding very close to patient, although I suspect that it will be short-lived whenslowproves to be all Icango. A walk I can hardly handle. Anything faster than that has me quickly careening to the side. Before a half hour passes, I fall off about half a dozen times, and even with Aiden there to catch me, I’m still getting sore.
“Perhaps a more hands-on approach might help?” Cypress calls out from his spectator’s seat by the fire. An interesting statement to make considering Aiden already has his hands on me, fingers at my waist to hold and steady me before setting meback on my feet.
“She’s fine,” Aiden barks over his shoulder as he kneels once more to lift me.
“You’re the instructor,” Cypress continues, holding up his hands. “Only trying to be of service.” When I go sliding off again a few minutes later, he adds, “Maybe you should get the guns out again.”
Aiden rounds on him, still holding me as he yells, “Would you butt out? She needs to learn this.”
“Why?” I snap, shoving him away before massaging my lower back. “I have a saddle. I have reins. This isn’t—”
“You should know how to ride without them.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s better that way. Get on the horse.”