“We’re just around back,” the cowboy said, that soft southern tone clinging to the words.
Andie folded her arms, shivering as she followed him over the wood slatted porch along the side of the inn and, at last, toward the back. She glanced over to see the covered, outdoor dining sections Betty had mentioned. One area held picnic tables with country themed tablecloths and tin milk jugs. The one further back offered a more formal appeal with fabric covered chairs and glass vases.
“Here’s our ride,” the cowboy said, gaining her attention once more. “Meet Trigger.”
Trigger?Andie tore her eyes off the dining areas and turned to see a tall, magnificent horse standing just beside the back porch steps. The sight was so unexpected that it startled her.
“Trigger,” the man continued, “this is…”
“Andie,” she blurted.
“That’s right.” He held her gaze for a blink. “Andie.”
Her heart sputtered at the sound of her name in that deep country voice.
He turned back to the horse then, leaning close to its ear. “She’s been very concerned about you. And I’ve been a little concerned abouther, if you know what I’m saying.”
Look who was being funny now. Not that she could appreciate the humor. Just when she thought her nerves couldn’t get any worse, she was supposed to climb onto that massive horse? “Wait, are you saying you don’t have a car here?”
“No, my truck’s here, but we don’t need it.”
A spark of desperation caused Andie to recall the line of golf carts she’d passed on her walk there. “What about the carts? I saw some in the parking area by that old shed.” The shed wasmorethan old. It was ugly and out of place and would need to come down as soon as possible.
“We don’t need the golf carts either. And if you’re not careful, you’re going to hurt Trigger’s feelings.” He patted the saddle. Andie could swear she saw amusement behind those brown eyes of his. “Do you know how to mount a horse properly, Andie, or do you want me to help you?”
“Oh, I don’t…no, I don’t remember how to even ride a horse.” Hesitantly, she stepped closer to the animal and looked at the stirrup. “I mean, I’m sure I could figure out how to get on, but I was like, eight years old—” Her words ended abruptly as the cowboy briskly closed the gap between them, the cool, crisp air replaced by his warmth and masculine spicy scent.
Whoa. She barely had time to meet his gaze when he reached out, grabbed her by the waist and, in one quick move, hoisted her up and over the horse’s saddle. A startled squeal sounded in the back of her throat as he rather plopped her into place.Whoa again.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked, concern thick on his southern tone.
Andie wanted to answer his question, but she was too busy thinking about the feel of his large, heavenly hands on her hips. And the gentle look in his eyes, a contrast to his coarse manner.
“No.” It came out in more of a whisper. Her heart skittered out of beat as her breath quickened.
Trenton’s gaze dropped to her hips, as if he’d only just realized he hadn’t released her yet. All too quickly, he slid his hands off her waist and took a step back. He cleared his throat. “You can, uh, toss a leg over the other side of the saddle and I’ll hop on back.”
“Oh. Okay.”Move, Andie!She ran her gaze over the massive horse, her eyes settling on its glossy black eye. “He’s beautiful,” she breathed, reaching tentatively to touch its velvety soft head. She wobbled back slightly, and the cowboy’s hands went around her once again.
He was quick to remove them this time. “Here, take my hand.”
When she placed her hand in his as he suggested, he gave her further instruction. “Now shift your weight, move your leg to the other side, and grab onto the saddle horn.”
It took her a moment, but with a little finagling, she managed to do just that.
“Nice,” he crooned, climbing effortlessly onto the back of the horse. The warmth of him coated her back as he settled into place.
“There’s room for me behind the saddle here,” he said, his heated breath grazing her neck, “but I’ll have to reach around you to help with the reins at first.”
“Okay.” Andie said, enjoying the second dose of heat along her sides as he reached for the reins. Probably because she was so cold.
“What cabin are you in?” he asked, guiding the horse away from the porch.
“Nineteen,” she answered.
“Alright then. We’ll take it nice and slow.”
Andie gripped the saddle horn with both hands, swaying with each step as Trigger sauntered away from the inn.
