Christine Wenger - The Cowboy Way

“This means a lot to me. How can I thank you, Mr. Dixon?”

“By calling me Jake, for heaven’s sake.”

She started to protest, then her jaws shut. “Okay.”

He let out a long, low whistle. “Finally.”

He held Sidewinder’s…er…Thunder’s reins and lightly touched her arm. “Up you go.”

Jake gave her a gentle push on her cute behind. She landed in the saddle and grinned down at him. “It’s pretty high up here.”

“You’ll get used to it.” He handed her the reins, and she took them. She clutched the saddle horn, her knuckles turning white. “Relax, Beth. Take a deep breath and relax. Thunder won’t do anything stupid.”

She took a deep breath and looked into his eyes. “But I’m afraid I might.”

“I personally tested him for Wheelchair Rodeo. He’s a good, calm horse. Just relax and enjoy.”

He showed her how to hold the reins. “I’m just going to lead him around the corral until you get used to the motion.”

“Ramon!” He cupped his hands and shouted to a group of cowboys who were watching intently. “As long as you’re just sitting there looking pretty, would you mind saddling Lance for me?”

One of them jumped down from the fence. “You got it, bro.”

Jake continued to walk Thunder around the corral. She noticed that the more they circled, the worse Jake limped. No doubt the loose soil was taking a toll on whatever was wrong with him.

“I’m comfortable now, Jake. I can see you limping. Wait until Ramon brings your horse out.”

“Move forward in the saddle.”

“Huh?”

“Move forward.”

She did, and before she could blink, Jake had swung a leg up behind her and they were both sitting on the saddle. His arms and thighs were tight around her and she felt him snug against her bottom.

She sat up straight and tried to put a breath of air between them, but there was none to be had. She could smell the laundry soap clinging to his shirt and his unique scent, a tantalizing mixture of pine and leather.

He made a clicking sound and moved the reins. Thunder turned and walked, and she felt the animal’s hardness against her, rocking…rocking…

“A couple more times and then we’ll take a slow ride on the Chisholm Trail,” he said.

His voice was low and seductive in her ear. She wanted to lean her head back on his chest and feel the vibration of his deep voice passing through her.

Instead, she struggled to take her mind off him.

She finally found her voice. “I’d like to ride the Chisholm Trail.”

“We also have the Santa Fe Trail and the Dixon Trail and a couple more. They go up in level of difficulty. Guests can only go on the trails I approve them for. The cowboys who work here get a copy of my list each morning, and it’s posted in the bunkhouse. No one can go to the next trail unless I pass them.”

Jake Dixon ran a tight ranch, and against her better judgment she was starting to like him.

But she still wasn’t sure she could trust him with her son.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.