Both our eyes went wide as we simultaneously realized what he had said. I felt my cheeks flush hot as I tried to banish the inappropriate thoughts suddenly racing through my mind.
“I mean, ah, let me help you down from your horse.” Noah’s deep voice sent another shiver down my spine.
When Noah reached up to help me dismount, his muscular hands caught my waist, and I slid down against his solid chest. For one charged moment, I was hyper-aware of everywhere he touched. His fingers at my sides, the warmth radiating through his flannel shirt, the woodsy scent of pine needles clinging toevery inch of his body. My feet touched the ground, but my heart kept racing long after he stepped away.
Noah bobbed his head toward the view, a fever dream of purple columbines and yellow glacier lilies. The vibrant flowers seemed to stretch for miles, a kaleidoscope of colors swaying gently in the mountain breeze. “So, what do you think?”
“It’s beautiful,” I said, careful not to say out loud what was going through my head.
“Yeti, here girl!” Noah shouted at the trees. When Yeti came running, Noah pulled the canteen hooked by a carabiner to the saddle and filled a collapsible dog bowl with water. Once Yeti had her fill, Noah reached over to hand the canteen to me.
“I guess I know where I stand in the favorites order.” I took a step and suddenly realized I was now permanently bowlegged. For the rest of my life, instead of walking anywhere, I was going to have to mosey. “As soon as I get back to the resort, I’m getting a hot stone butt massage at the spa. These leather saddles aren’t exactly made of memory foam.
“Hot stone butt massage? Is that even a thing?”
“If it isn’t, it should be.”
“You see that boulder over there?” Noah pointed at a large rock. “It’s been sitting all day in the sun. Should be hot enough for you.”
“Ha ha, Mr. Mountain Grumpy Dude. Ha ha.”
Noah tended to the horses, then laid out a saddle blanket so we could sit.
“You guys should do a Saddle and Straddle package,” I said as I made myself comfortable on the blanket. “Or the Trot and Knot.”
The look on Noah’s face suggested he didn’t think my idea was as brilliant as I did.
“It would be a horseback riding and massage bundle. Victoria would love it. Except for the horseback riding part.”
“I’ll think on it.” He paused for two seconds. “Yeah, no.”
He handed me the canteen. I took a sip. It was warm. It was stale. It was water.
While we drank, Yeti frolicked in the meadow. I hadn’t realized wolf-dogs were capable of frolicking, but she looked like she was having the time of her life. She rolled through a patch of wild iris then played tag with a butterfly.
“I should be filming this.” I moseyed over to Biscuit, bowlegged, then grabbed my phone from the saddlebag. “Yeti! Here girl!”
“Just to warn you, she’s not had any dog model training,” said Noah as he watched us skeptically.
“That’s okay. She’s a natural.” Yeti snapped her jaws at a flying bug buzzing around her ears. “Yeti, can you just ...” I patted the ground next to a particularly photogenic cluster of flowers.
Camera rolling, Yeti flopped onto her back, paws waving in the air, rolling in the dirt.
“No, Yeti, like this.” I demonstrated what I wanted, crawling through the grass. Noah didn’t bother to suppress a snort. “Don’t judge. This is art.”
“This is ridiculous,” he muttered, but I caught the smile tugging at his lips.
“Yeti, look majestic!” I snapped another dozen shots. “Channel your inner wolf.”
Yeti responded by rolling deeper into the flowers, crushing several beneath her furry bulk.
“Work with me here.” I army-crawled to a better angle. “Noah, can you get her to look more ... mountain-y?”
“Mountain-y?”
“You know, like she’s contemplating the profound mysteries of nature or something.”
“She’s probably contemplating whether she should bite you.”
