“No.”
He’s still standing inches from me, his eyes dark and his mouth opening as if to shout, to saysomethingelse at least. Instead, he starts to turn his back.
“Wait,” I say, because as good as it feels to push back, him pulling away feels worse. “Can you just tell me why?”
He stops, his jaw tense as he stares at the ground and crosses his arms over his chest. “Because it will teach you to be a better rider. I’ve seen you, Cora. You always hang on to the saddle horn when you ride. You rely too much on giving direction with your reins. You need to be less dependent on them. That way if you ever need to—”
“Need to what? Try out for Buffalo Bill? This is ridicu—”
“If you ever need to getaway,” he snaps, his eyes finding mine again. “If you ever need to ride like your life depends on it, actually knowing how to ridewellcould be the thing that means you survive.”
“Oh.” I remember running toward Tess’s stall with Elliot and his friend on my heels. Even if I’d made it, I wouldn’t have hadtime to tack her up. I wouldn’t have been able to get away. Which is exactly what Aiden is trying to prevent.
And I’m fighting him every step of the way.
“I’m sorry,” I say, my shoulders sagging as my anger fades. “I didn’t—”
He shakes his head. “I should’ve explained from the start. I’m not very good at this…” He sighs and glances back at Cypress, who is watching intently. “Maybe you’d rather have Cy teach you this, too.”
“No, it’s okay,” I tell him, a little surprised that I mean it when I say it. “I’d like you to teach me. But I would also like not to fall off.” I rub my right arm and wince when I feel a bruise that is beginning to form. “It hurts.”
He nods, even almost smiles. “Okay, no more falling off. For today.”
I consider that about as good as I’m going to get, so when he kneels again, I place my foot and let him swing me back up without argument, although I don’t hide my surprise at all when Aiden stands and swings himself up, too. As soon as he settles behind me, I feel somehow both more secure and more off-balance than on any previous attempt.
To get us moving, he squeezes his thighs against Tess’s sides and clicks his tongue, the sound so close to my ear that it has a similar effect on me.
“You’re all right,” he murmurs, mistaking the source of my nerves when I jump. “I meant what I said. No more falling off today.”
“Okay. Is this…is this okay?”
“Mm-hmm. Keep your back straight,” he encourages, and I feel his broad chest against my spine, the heat of him carrying through the thin material of my dress. “You feel how my legs are at the sides? See the angle? Right, that’s perfect. Keep your heels down.”
I’m not sure I’m breathing. Not with him so near, stealing all my air. So different from the way I feel when Cypress teaches me, his calm, relaxed presence putting me at ease. Right now, I am a lot of things. But not one of them isat ease.
“Grip with your thighs. Roll into the movement with your hips.” He shifts nearer, showing me by example, and my body responds with far less reluctance than I had shown him earlier. “Yes, good. That’s good.”
We make circle after circle as he offers quiet corrections to my posture and cues, but it becomes increasingly harder to focus with each pass. I am soawareof him. How close he is. How strong. How surprisingly sweet.
I don’t even realize we’ve stopped until he shifts away, drops back down to the ground, and then turns to lift me from Tess’s back. He sets me down slowly, stillsoclose to him.
“Think that’s enough for today,” he says, voice husky, his hands lingering on my waist. “You go on. I’ll take care of Tess.”
I nod, still half in a daze as I walk around him, feeling his fingertips fall away as I pause at his side to look up at him. “Aiden?”
“Hm?”
“Thank you.”
He dips his head. “You’re welcome, Cora.”
I smile, feeling hopeful that maybe we’ve altered our routine as I head toward Cypress, who stands waiting. But once I make it to the halfway point and see his expression shift, I don’t even have to turn around to know nothing has really changed.
Aiden is already gone.
“Little bird?”
“Hm?” Cora is frowning as she turns to where I stand by the nearly loaded wagon with my hand outstretched. Getting us ready to go, although her mind is clearly already elsewhere. I glance meaningfully at my bedroll and coffee pot in her arms, and her eyes follow my gaze before she blushes. “Oh, sorry.”