The only thing he told me about today's proposed date was that I should come dressed in a comfortable outfit that included long pants, preferably jeans. That didn't give me too many clues about what we'd be doing, but I decided I could live in suspense for the time being.
Now I want to know.
“You told me that summer camp of yours didn't have horses, but it's never too late to learn to ride,” he says.
I immediately panic, heart pounding. My chest feels tight. It was one thing when Fitz heaved me onto his horse when my ankle was hurt. He was doing the steering, and I sat there like dead weight, clinging to him and appreciative of his arms around me.
But if he's proposing that I get on a large animal and go galloping through the pastures, we are not communicating very well.
“Hold on there, Tex,” I say. “I love that you have a way with horses, and I can sit here and brush Dolly all day long, but I don't know if I need to learn to ride.” I'm saying it as though I'moffering him a way out, but we both know the truth. I’m scared out of my wits.
I can only hope he’ll see my logic. After all, he doesn't want to be in charge of chasing me down when my horse goes crazy because I don't know what I'm doing. Plus, I’m pregnant, so I can play that card, right? Safety first.
But he offers me another one of those smiles that has a way of turning my insides to jelly.
“I’ve got you, Duchess. I'm going to put you on Cleo. She’s the gentlest horse I have, and she’s the perfect horse to carry precious cargo.”
I put my hand on my belly. “You’re sweet.”
“So is Cleo. She's an old girl but very reliable, knows these roads, and she would not hurt a fly. She's also pretty darn slow, so you don't have anything to worry about.”
“Okay…” I chew on my lip, deciding what to do. I know that if I really object, Fitz won’t have me do anything that makes me uncomfortable.
But I trust this man. At every moment in his presence, he’s made me feel genuinely cared for. I need to set a good example for our future child and learn to keep an open mind, so the decision is made.
“Fine,” I say. “Saddle her up. Is that what you're supposed to say?”
He chuckles. “She's already saddled and ready to go. All you need to do is hop on, and we'll go for a nice ride. I need to drive the cattle down the ridge, so we’ll do that first, and then hit the trails.”
“Drive them, like, in your truck?” I look behind us at the truck which I’m pretty sure couldn’t fit a cow inside.
He laughs. “Yes, I drive and they run alongside just like in all the greatest Westerns.” His eyes dance, more amusedthan mocking, and I realize my mistake. My face blazes with embarrassment.
“Why do I feel like you’re going to give me crap for that forever?”
“Naw, just maybe a decade.”
I grit my teeth and follow him out to the paddock, where, sure enough, he has a beautiful gray horse ready for me, and I see that Dolly is carrying bags hanging behind the saddle that weren’t there the last time.
“What's in the packs?” I ask.
I glance down at my jeans, which Callie approved as “tight enough to be flattering but not trying too hard” and the plaid shirt I chose with care. I told myself I just didn’t want to stick out like a sore thumb on a ranch, but I may have been trying to impress Fitz a little bit.
“It’s a surprise.” Fitz hands me a carrot, his fingers brushing mine as I take it. I use it as a sort of peace offering for Cleo, hoping we have an understanding. “I'll give you as many carrots as you want as long as you don't throw me off your back,” I tell her.
She blows air out of her nose and snaps the carrot out of my hand, crunching it with her big teeth that make her look like she's smiling. I feed her one more, stalling because her sheer size makes me nervous.
I really am a city girl. But the sweetness of this animal and Fitz’s enthusiasm are impossible to resist.
“Okay, okay. You win. I’ll ride.”
Fitz tugs me in with an arm around my waist and kisses my temple. I try to ignore the jolt of awareness it sets off each time he touches me. Those feelings have no place in the kind of partnership we agreed on. The partnership I insisted on because I’m still focused on my goals. The one Fitz wants because he doesn’t do relationships.
“Put your foot in here.” Fitz holds one of the stirrups straight so I can put my foot in place, and then he helps hoist me over the top of the saddle. He keeps his hand on my thigh to steady me, and again, I try to ignore the way his touch heats my body by five degrees.
Every. Damn. Time.
Sitting atop Cleo, I'm way higher than I expected, but watching Fitz fuss to make everything perfect and safe, I feel slightly less terrified.