Kaya’s eyebrows lifted slightly behind him.
Brutus was a big bay gelding with opinions. Not unsafe, but stubborn. He tested riders who tried to bully him and made confident people work for it. He had a special talent for making arrogant men look silly in front of an audience.
Graham nodded. “Aye.”
“You’ll listen to him,” I warned. “Or he’ll make you look like a jackass.”
Graham’s mouth curved into a real smile, quick and dangerous. “Wouldn’t be the first one.”
That line surprised me. I didn’t have a response for it that wouldn’t sound like flirting, so I walked away.
He approached Brutus the right way. Hand out, palm open, letting the horse come to him. No sudden movements. No nervous energy. Just steadiness. Brutus lowered his head, sniffed Graham’s palm, then exhaled through his nostrils. The soft, slow exhale that meantokay, you’ll do.
My jaw tightened. Brutus never accepted riders this quickly. He usually tested people for a solid ten minutes before deciding they were worth his time, and half the riders he never decided at all.
Graham swung into the saddle with ease. Balanced. Natural. No awkwardness. No showing off.
Damn it.
I ran them through basics in the arena: walk, stop, turns, a little trot for those who could handle it. I corrected posture, reminded them to soften hands and keep heels down. I repositioned Olivia’s hands three times until she stopped yanking the horse’s mouth. I gave Jamie a quick lecture about “heels down” not being a suggestion.
Graham didn’t need correcting.
He rode Brutus like he understood him. He anticipated the horse’s stubbornness and met it with patience instead of force. When Brutus drifted, Graham adjusted with small cues from his legs, not the reins. When Brutus tested, Graham didn’t react with irritation or ego.
Brutus already respected him.
And I hated how much it impressed me, because being impressed was a step toward liking him, and liking him was not part of any plan I’d ever made.
After half an hour, I’d decided they were ready.
“Okay,” I said. “Enough running in circles. We can hit the trail now.”
Jamie actually clapped. Dex laughed at her. Olivia looked mildly relieved to stop trotting.
We headed out in a line with me in front, riding Cassiopeia. Kaya stayed near the back to support anyone who got nervous. The morning was bright, sun sharp against the mountains, but theair felt heavier than it should. Wind shifted through the trees in little impatient bursts.
The trail climbed gently through pines and aspens. This was my favorite stretch. Quiet enough that the horses relaxed, steep enough that inexperienced riders had to pay attention.
Brutus was a social trail horse. He liked to ride beside other horses, especially Cassiopeia, like her older calm authority steadied him.
So naturally, he drifted up beside me.
Which also put Graham beside me.
Exactly where I didn’t want him.
I kept my eyes on the trail, posture straight, voice clipped whenever I had to call back instructions.
Graham was quiet for a long stretch, and that was better. I didn’t need apologies. I didn’t need speeches. I didn’t need him trying to use charm as a lever.
Then, softly, he said, “Rose.”
My name in his accent did something irritating to my nerves.
“What,” I replied, not looking at him.
“I really am sorry about yesterday.”
