*****
Just after the menworking nearby had come in for their noon meal, Wade lingered in the kitchen.
“Are you still hungry?” It was the only reason Hazel could imagine him standing around here, looking as if he didn’t have a thing in the world to do.
“No, can’t say that I am after that spread you put together.” He gave her a smile, and Hazel almost had to grab the edge of the table to keep from falling over at the compliment.
“I . . . thank you,” she finally managed to say.
Wade glanced across the room, at the dishes that needed scrubbing and the stack of potatoes Hazel had gathered to peel for that night’s supper. “What do you say to a ride down to the creek?”
Hazel blinked at him as if he were speaking French. “It’s the middle of the day.”
“I’m aware.” He kept his gaze trained on her, a hint of mischief in his eyes.
She clasped her hands in front of her, studying him. “Wade Pierce, I’m afraid I don’t know who you are right now.” She said it in a lighthearted manner, but truly—he was acting entirely different from the man she knew.
His smile grew serious. “I’m a man who has to stop thinking about those cattle or else I’ll go riding after those tracks myself.” He sighed, blowing the air from the side of his mouth. “I need a distraction, Hazel.”
She nodded slowly. She understood needing to occupy oneself from worries. “All right. Let’s take a ride down to the creek. Except . . .”
He raised his eyebrows.
“I’ve never ridden a horse,” she said sheepishly.
He laughed, and she hoped he was already beginning to set his worries aside. “I suppose it’s time you learn.” He went to the door and held it open.
Hazel unpinned her apron and then followed him to the corral outside the stable. She waited patiently, eyeing the horses and wondering why they had to be so tall, while he chose one for her.
“This is Greta. She’s a good old girl, shouldn’t give you any trouble.” He fit a saddle and a contraption of leather and metal rings over Greta’s head and then led her toward Hazel, where he tied her to the fence.
Hazel looked the mare in her big, brown eyes before hesitantly reaching out a hand to stroke her nose. Greta hardly seemed to notice. “She’s awfully pretty,” Hazel said as she admired the horse’s dappled gray coat.
“Wait here while I get my horse saddled, and then I’ll help you mount.”
Hazel nodded. She was hardly about to try to climb up on this horse without Wade’s help. In just a few minutes, he returned, leading a handsome chestnut horse. After tying his horse, he came to help Hazel.
“All you do is put your foot in the stirrup there, and then swing your other leg over her back. Grab onto the saddle horn.”
He said it so easily, as if this were all very simple, when in reality, Hazel couldn’t figure out how to reach her foot into the stirrup, much less toss her other leg over without showing the entire ranch her underthings. “I don’t know if I—”
“Here, this will be easier.” And before she could reply, he’d gripped her waist between his strong hands and lifted her up.
Hazel swallowed a squeak and tried to do as he’d said, even though all she could think of right now was the feel of his hands around her midsection. She managed to grab hold of the saddle horn, and then very inelegantly tossed her other leg over Greta’s back.
“See? Not so hard.” Wade grinned up at her.
“I don’t know aboutthat,” she said. She was so high up, she feared she’d topple right off. And then there was the pesky little situation of having her skirt indecently raised in order to sit in the saddle.
Hazel wasn’t entirely sure if she was made to ride a horse.
“Ready?” Wade was already on his own horse.
Hazel swallowed the very real fear of hitting the ground head-first. “I suppose. How do you make the horse move?”
After a short lesson on how to hold the reins and how to press her heels into Greta’s sides—and how to make her stop—Hazel held on for dear life as she rode next to Wade.
“Careful, you might snap those reins in half and end up with Greta taking you up a mountain,” Wade said.
