Wyatt walked ahead of her, stopping in front of another stall. “His name is Bucky. The folks are a bit picky about letting anyone ride him, on account of his little problem.”
“Bucky?” she asked, joining Wyatt in front of the stall and peering in. “As in he likes to buck?”
“He bucks.” Wyatt nodded. “But he don’t much like it.”
“What does he do?” sheasked.
“It’ll be easier to show you. You sure you’re up for this? You still know how to ride, right?”
Dylan rolled her eyes. “I think I can manage.”
“You sure, Dylan? I can ride him,” I volunteered, a little hesitant to leave the gorgeous paint I was snuggling.
“Absolutely not,” Wyatt said.
I tried not to let his statement offend me, but admittedly, it stung a little. Of course, Wyatt hadno idea what I could do on the back of a horse, so I had to let it go, but a little part of me wanted to impress him. Weird, but true.
“You’re only saying that because you haven’t seen Addie ride,” Dylan said.
I beamed. Good ol’ Dylan. She always had my back.
“I’m looking forward to that,” Wyatt admitted. “But that has nothing to do with it. You said her brother’s a lawyer, and my parents wouldnever forgive me if we lost the farm because Bucky threw you and messed up your gorgeous face, Addison.”
Well that was sweet.
“I know Dylan doesn’t care much about her looks,” he added.
She swung at him, but he jumped out of her range.
“Watch him on the turn, Dylan. He can bolt,” Wyatt said, laughing as he headed to another stall.
“Don’t tell me how to live my life,” she said, grabbingthe bridle and heading into the stall.
After securing my helmet, I did a quick check of the saddle and girth, made sure the bridle was adjusted correctly, then led Firebrand to the mounting block. I turned around and watched as Dylan climbed up the side of the stall and mounted from there. She came out of the stall sitting atop a dark grey and white Appaloosa who didn’t look all that complicated.
I’m not even sure how Wyatt mounted, but the next thing I knew he was atop a second paint, studying me. “How are those stirrups?” he asked. “I had to guess length.”
I smiled. “Perfect, actually.”
“Good deal.”
“Are we riding out to the pond?” Dylan asked.
“Yeah. There’s that stretch where we can open up and run if we want to.”
“Oh, we totally want to,” I said.
Wyatt chuckled, and we headedout of the barn and away from the house.
“All right, city girls, let’s see what you can do,” he said, nudging his horse into a gallop.
Dylan laughed and raced after him, and I clucked Firebrand forward to join them. We came upon a large pond, and Dylan veered to the right. Bucky hopped like a bunny three times, kicking his legs out behind him, and then bolted.
“Shit,” Wyatt hissed, and spurredhis horse forward. There was no way he could catch her, though.
I coaxed Firebrand into stepping up his pace. By the time I went over the hill and came upon them, Dylan was dismounted, doubled over, and laughing hysterically.
“Dylan, are you okay?” I asked, slowing Firebrand to a stop.
