“Yes, he is.” I’m a little too indignant though, and she smiles even wider.
“Well, don’t keep him waiting and invite him in for lunch so I can get a better look.” She almost pushes me out the door, backing me up with her chair.
“Can I at least have my coffee?” I mutter to the closed door. Seconds later, she thrusts her arm out with my thermos and shuts the door again as if I will try to get back inside.
“Hey.” I wave at him lamely from the porch when he looks over at me. Instead of responding, he jerks his chin a little and looks around again. “Barn’s right this way.” I needlessly point to the huge structure thirty feet away.Get it together, Lucy.
I hop down the steps and head toward the barn, fully expecting him to follow. The scent of fresh hay greets me, and I calm just a little. I can feel his presence as he passes through the door. I watch his face to see how he reacts. I can usually tell when someone isn’t familiar with the smell of a barn, but he doesn’t react. He doesn’t even look around. He just heads straight for me, which surprises me a little. He’s wearing dark jeans, brown boots, and a navy blue long-sleeved thermal shirt. It shows off how bulky he is. Not in the body builder kind of way, but I can definitely see he’s fit. He probably works out all the time.
I place my cup on the ledge and wipe my hands on the back of my jeans before returning my gaze to him. I run my eyes over his face and note the nickname Jaws still fits, but I need something else to call him. After extending my hand, I say, “I just realized we’ve never had an introduction. I’m Lucy.” He looks down at my hand as if he might not take it. My fingers twitch, ready to pull back, but he lifts his palm and places it against mine. His hold is a little tight, just this side of painful, but he releases me quickly. I steal a quick glance at the tattoos on his fingers, and surprisingly, I have the desire to examine each one.
The strong odor of weed is present again, and I have to force myself not to tell him what a bad idea it is to go riding while high. I’m afraid it will come off as preachy, and we still have a lot to do before he ever gets on a horse. If I feel like he’s still inebriated when the time comes, I will tell him then. I also need to find a way to let him know he needs to be sober next time.
I wait a moment for him to tell me his name, but he doesn’t. “What can I call you?” His eyebrows shoot up as if me asking his name comes as a shock.
“Rafe,” he finally says, but he almost seems reluctant to admit it. It makes me question if he’s telling me the truth or not.
“All right, Rafe, this is Scooby and Isabella.” I point to the two horses.
“What about that one?” He looks down the stalls to Moe, who is silently watching us. I tilt my head to the side. I can’t believe he even noticed him down there.
“That’s Moe.” I tuck my hand into my front pocket. “He’s not one of the horses you’ll be riding.”
“Something wrong with him?”
“No, other than he’s not a good horse for an inexperienced rider. I don’t ride him much myself. He’s fairly old and set in his ways.”
Rafe stares down the corridor, examining Moe for a moment longer, then turns to face me again, seemingly ready for instructions. I turn away from Scooby’s stall and make the short walk over to Isabella’s. “I think we’ll start with Isabella.” When I turn, he’s right behind me, so close I swear he was sniffing my hair, but he just pretends to be looking over my shoulder into the stall.
I step to the side a bit to evade him and grab the rope harness that’s hanging near the door. “Wait here for a second.” I step into the stall and loop the rope over Isabella’s neck. Her eyes are watchful as she lets me lead her from the stall, down the hall, and into the arena. Scooby makes some noise, probably feeling disgruntled about being left out. “I’ll come back for you, big guy.”
“You want me to wait?” Rafe says, thinking my words are for him. I suppose they could apply…
“No, you can follow me. Not behind Isabella though. First rule, don’t stand behind a horse.”
He jogs a little to catch up with me, wisely avoiding Isabella’s hind quarters. “Why?”
“Unless you want to know what it feels like to be hit by a car while you’re standing still, it’s not a good idea.”
“If they’re dangerous, why do you have them?” Rafe looks at Isabella as if he doesn’t trust her anymore.
“They aren’t dangerous unless you don’t know how to treat them.” I rub Isabella’s side and loop her lead rope over one of the hitching posts in the arena. It’s a large space. I don’t come in here too often anymore. I prefer to ride outdoors when the weather permits. Mom’s barrels are still set up, and the ground is a little dustier than it used to be, but it still looks nice.
“You can stand over there and watch for now.” I point to the chest high fencing that serves as a corral for the arena. After a brief pause, Rafe moves around the fence, but he stands at the very edge as if he’s bothered by being told what to do or ready to jump right in—I can’t decide yet.
I walk up near Isabella’s head and stroke her neck. “Hey, girl, this is Rafe.” She looks at me with wide, large trusting eyes.
She introducesme to the horse like it’s a real fucking person. It’s sweet and weird as fuck. When she asked my name, I didn’t know how to answer her. I ended up blurting out the truth and telling her my real name. No one calls me Rafe. No one. There are very few people who even know my real name, and I just gave it to her freely.
“Come on over and introduce yourself.” She beckons me, and I listen like she’s my puppet master. I don’t even think about denying her. What the fuck is that about? “Horses are like dogs in a way. They like to get a good sniff, but you’ll have to be careful. Some horses bite,” she tells me while rubbing her hands all over the thing’s nose and face.
It’s watching me with huge black eyes. If that fucking thing bites her, I’m going to shoot it. The horse jerks its head and makes a snorting sound like it knows what I’m thinking.
“Relax, Isabella,” she coos softly, and the damn beast listens to her. The horse settles down again but keeps her eyes trained on me. She starts talking about the importance of getting to know the horse and what it needs before you can ride it, and I mostly listen, but I catch myself spacing out a few times and just watching her. At The Dollhouse, she rarely spoke to anyone other than Winger. Even then, it wasn’t much, so it’s strange to hear so much of her voice and see her speaking so animatedly.
“Want to give it a try?” she asks, extending the paddle brush to me.
Not in the fucking least,is what I’m thinking, but I take the brush from her, making sure to graze her fingers with mine. Her eyes jump up to mine, and she fucking blushes bright pink. It makes me want to drop the brush and touch more of her. I want to see what her reaction would be if I did what I wanted, like shoving her up against the wall and ramming my hand down her pants.
