Seventeen-year-old Chloe Matthews is done with guys, done with her ex, and done with the cowboys of the Grand Teton Mountains. She refuses to get hurt again.
All that matters now are the horses. Every horse Chloe helps is another piece of herself pu...
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The sun slid behind the hills as a small crowd assembled in the bleachers. A young horse ran and bucked along the fence while Jack walked around the arena, kicking up dust in his black hat and tan chaps. He was a vision of the old west. Even the way his hands held the rope made me all tingly.
Jack adjusted the clip-on microphone. "He's nervous," he told the crowd. "I would be, too, if someone wanted to strap something around me and climb onto my back." That got him some chuckles. "We'll let him calm down a bit more."
The brown and white pinto was big, probably sixteen hands, and looked about four years old. The perfect age to be saddle-trained, but he was terrified. Maybe he'd never left his pasture, maybe he was reacting to being trailered, being in the arena with the crowd, the noise, and a stranger trying to do weird things to him.
Jack did a double take when he saw us. Whether it was because I'd actually shown up or because Gabi was riding Cloud Chaser, I couldn't tell. Maybe both. A wide grin spread over his face. Warmth seeped across my chest.
"Well, look at that," Jack said into the microphone. "My partner just arrived."
Partner?
"She can do things with horses that'll blow your mind."
Did he just give me props?
"What do you say, Chloe?" He motioned toward the wayward colt. "Can you help me out?"
Yes, I ached to help the colt, even though being near Jack gave me heart palpitations. I slid off of Piper and handed the reins to Gabi. The rodeo attendants opened the gate and I walked into the arena.
Jack strode up to me, making the earth tilt. He covered his microphone. "I'm dying out here."
"What have you done so far," I said, trying to keep my balance as he bent toward me.
"Let him run it out."
The wide-eyed colt bucked and stumbled at now facing two strangers in the arena. My heart went out to him. I walked toward him and whispered, "I know you're scared, but everything's going to be okay."
The colt stopped and arched his neck, like a child crossing his arms and frowning.
Jack handed me the coiled lead rope and stepped back. It was still warm from his hands. I forced myself to focus on the colt, and went through the same exercise I'd done with Gunner, talking softly and swinging the rope in wide circles. I let the colt gallop full-out for a few more minutes, and then I stopped and stood still in the middle of the arena.
The colt slowed, chest heaving. He walked hesitantly toward me. The crowd was silent, which was good for the colt. I sent up a silent thank you and reached into my pocket for a Twizzler. I held my hand low next to my side. Soon a soft rubbery mouth took the candy from my hand.
