How to get a Cowboy 101 ⎯ a Ryan story [Yellowstone]

xi

After the riding lesson, the sun sat high in the clear Montana sky, casting a warm golden hue over the arena. Jane dismounted from Rocky, her muscles aching from the intense session with the coach, but her spirits were high. The lesson had been demanding, but she felt like she'd made progress with Rocky's jumping. She patted his neck, the horse snorting softly in response, as if to acknowledge her efforts.

Walking toward the gate at the far end of the arena, she saw Ryan standing there, waiting. His easy smile greeted her, and as she approached, he tipped his hat, the classic cowboy gesture that never failed to bring a smile to her face.

"Good ridin' out there," Ryan said, pushing open the gate for her, then falling into step beside her as they headed toward the stables.

"Thanks. Feels like I'm finally getting somewhere with him," Jane replied, her tone light, though she knew the work was far from over. Rocky's stride had been more fluid today, but there was always something more to work on.

They walked together, their conversation flowing effortlessly, punctuated by jokes and easy laughter. When they reached the barn, Ryan took a seat on a hay bale, watching as Jane led Rocky into his stall. The radio played softly from the corner, a familiar tune filling the quiet space—"Tennessee Whiskey."

As Jane began untacking Rocky, she couldn't help but sway slightly to the music. Her hips moved in time with the melody, her head nodding as she worked. Ryan watched with amusement, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. He sat back, his arms resting on his knees, enjoying the impromptu show.

Rocky, on the other hand, stood patiently, though his large, dark eyes seemed to reflect a sort of bemused confusion. To him, the only important thing was the mash Jane had promised him. Dancing was not part of his agenda.

Jane disappeared into the tack room, hanging up Rocky's bridle and carefully placing the saddle on the rack. As she did, she felt a pair of hands slide around her waist. Startled, she turned, finding herself face-to-chest with Ryan. She had to crane her neck to look up at him, his familiar mischievous grin greeting her.

"What do you think you're doing?" she asked, her tone playful, though her heart raced just a little faster.

Ryan leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, "Dancin'."

Before Jane could respond, Ryan gently pulled her out of the tack room, and back into the stable aisle. He placed his hands on her waist again, swaying in time with the music. His touch was firm yet soft, guiding her effortlessly as they danced between the rows of stalls. The world outside the barn seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them, their laughter mixing with the smooth voice of the singer on the radio.

Rocky, however, wasn't quite as entertained. He watched them with an indignant snort, clearly unimpressed with the lack of attention on his mash. His ears flicked back, his large head lowering as he gave them a look that seemed to say, I don't need this dance show—I need food.

Ryan chuckled, glancing over at the horse. "Looks like someone's not impressed."

Jane laughed, stepping out of Ryan's arms reluctantly. "Rocky's got his priorities straight. Mash before dancing."

She busied herself with preparing Rocky's feed while Ryan leaned against the stall door, watching her with that easy smile of his, the one that always made her feel just a little lighter. Once Rocky had his mash inside his stable box and was happily munching away, Jane grabbed her bag—packed with clothes and her shower essentials—and turned to Ryan.

"Ready to head to the bunkhouse?" she asked.

Ryan tipped his hat again. "After you."