4
Duchess arrived the following morning. The two-year-old gray quarter horse filly would be under Jake’s care for the next month or two as he started her under saddle and trained her for western pleasure. He settled her in the stall next to Twister, knowing that both horses had calm, easygoing personalities and would likely enjoy each other’s company. Indeed, after some spirited stomping and snorting, they settled in to munch hay next to each other.
“Nice place,” Mr. Nichols, Duchess’s owner, commented. He was a corporate CEO who’d moved to the area from Richmond a few years ago after he’d retired at the ripe old age of forty-five. Now he dabbled in the stock market and seemed to be doing well for himself, judging by the size of the property he lived on and the quality of the horses he bought for his family. Duchess was a recent acquisition, meant for his thirteen-year-old daughter Kassie to ride, and Mr. Nichols had spared no expense, ensuring the filly had the finest pedigree money could buy.
“I’m really happy to be here,” Jake told him. “And grateful for the opportunity to work with Duchess.”
“I wouldn’t have her trained by anyone else,” he said. “You’ve done exceptional work with all of our horses, and we’re happy to help support you in your new endeavor here at Rosemont Castle.”
“Thank you, sir. It means a lot.” Jake had first met the Nichols family when he worked at the Twin Pine Stables in nearby Masonville, and he couldn’t be more grateful for their business. Satisfied clients like the Nichols’ would tell their friends and hopefully help establish his career as a trainer. Jake had a number of clients that he visited for training sessions at their own barns, but the horses he boarded and trained at Rosemont Castle would be his real bread and butter.
The rest of the week passed relatively uneventfully. Jake spent his mornings at the barn and his afternoons in his office, working on his next book. He’d started writing on a whim during those long days at Alana’s bedside. Since he’d always loved crime novels, he’d started a series starring an equine-loving private investigator who accepted cases all over the world solving crimes tangled up in the world of horses.
He couldn’t say his books had been a runaway success, but they brought in enough extra income to allow him to move into his own barn a few years earlier than he would have been able to if he’d been dependent on income from horse training alone.
When he wasn’t working at the castle, he traveled to his offsite clients for training sessions. He kept himself as busy as possible, throwing himself into his work on both fronts. Being here at Rosemont Castle had reinvigorated him. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this alive, certain parts of him in particular. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t stop thinking about Megan.
He tried to ignore it, but when he closed his eyes at night, he remembered the way it felt when her lips pressed against his, the way his blood pounded and his heart raced, every cell in his body blissfully, painfully alive.
It was probably for the best, then, that she had flown home to Florida to visit her family. And after a few days without seeing her, he’d convinced himself he’d gotten his head back on straight. He couldn’t control his thoughts in bed, but he could absolutely control his reaction to her in person. That is, until he returned from a trail ride on Twister Friday afternoon to find her walking out of the barn.
“Hi,” he said as he walked Twister toward her.
“Hi.” She grinned up at him, the sun sparkling in her eyes, and he was done for.
“How was Florida?”
“A lot warmer than it is here,” she told him, rubbing her hands over her arms for effect. “It was great to spend a few days with my family, but I’m glad to be back. I guess Rosemont Castle feels like home now.”
“That’s a good thing, I think,” he said.
“Yeah, I think so too.” She walked over to stand next to Twister, rubbing his neck.
“Did you have a good…celebration?” he asked, suddenly aware that he had very little knowledge about Jewish holidays—apart from Hanukkah—and hoping he hadn’t just put his foot in his mouth.
But Megan’s smile only widened. “Yes, thank you. Purim’s kind of like the Halloween of Jewish holidays, so we had fun. Mostly, it was good to see my family. I miss them.”
“You’re close, then?”
She nodded. “Very.”
He swung down from Twister’s back to face her, noticing the way she watched his every move. “You want to ride him?”
She looked at the saddle, hesitation warring with excitement in her eyes. “Right now?”
“Sure. I mean, if you want to. You could walk him around the riding ring. He’s as steady as they come. You’d have nothing to worry about.”
She nodded, stepping closer to Twister’s side. “Yeah, you know what? I’d love that.”
“Okay, then.” He led Twister over to the mounting block, positioning him so she would have an easier time getting up. “Whenever you’re ready.”
She stepped up, slinging her right leg over Twister’s back. As she settled into the saddle, a wide smile broke across her face. “It’s been years since I’ve been on a horse.”
Jake adjusted the stirrups for her as she got comfortable. “Just cluck to ask him to walk, say ‘whoa’ when you want him to stop, and steer him by laying the reins against his neck, like this.” He reached up to adjust her grip on the reins, demonstrating.
“Got it.” She wrapped her fingers around the pommel to find her balance, and Jake’s mind tumbled straight into the gutter.
Also, his pants were suddenly too tight. So much for getting his head on straight where Megan was concerned. He stepped back, watching as she and Twister entered the riding ring, setting off for a loop around the well-trodden earth. Megan’s hips swayed to the rhythm of Twister’s gait, and really, what had he been thinking to put the woman he was already hot for on his horse?
