Page 16 of Ella and the Enchanted Bookshop

Ron Kostman wasn’t what I would call an athlete, but he wasn’t a small man either. He was taller and stronger than I was–a fact he seemed to be emphasizing as he took a few steps toward me, his chest puffed out as he did.

“I don’t see why you can’t just give me my lesson now,” he said, taking another step. “I already paid.”

“I think,” said a blessedly familiar masculine voice, “that she told you you need to wait until next week.”

Asher appeared around the corner. He was wearing blue jeans, boots, and a button-up flannel–the perfect uniform for riding horses. But his face was like stone as he stared the other man down.

Ron gave him a long, assessing look, and from what I could tell, he was not pleased.

“I paid for this time slot,” he said, turning back to me. “And if you’re going to keep this business alive, you’re going to have to–”

In three long strides, Asher was at my side, standing slightly in front of me so he was between us. “She will do nothing she doesn’t want to do,” he said in a low voice. “So I suggest you go home and get your lesson rebooked.”

The two men stared at one another for what felt like forever. But just as I was about to slip into the house to phone the sheriff, who happened to be one of our neighbors, Ron scoffed before stomping back to his car, muttering to himself as he went.

As soon as he’d pulled out of the parking lot and back onto the road, I let myself lean back against the house and let out a long, slow sigh. “Thank you,” I breathed. “I didn’t know how I was going to get rid of him.”

“Why does your stepmother let men like that onto the property at all?” Asher asked, still frowning deeply in the direction Ron’s car had gone.

I gave him a wry smile. “Because my stepmother’s spending habits far outpace the income this place brings in.”

He turned and looked down at me. “It’s that bad?”

I gave a humorless chuckle. “It didn’t use to be.” Then I stood and began gathering a rope someone had left out. “But my stepmother loves to travel, and there are far too many equine conferences calling her name for her to miss out.” Then I shook my head to clear it. “But… you’re here!” And this time, I couldn’t help smiling. “I didn’t know you were coming!”

He smiled too. “I… might have kept my identity a secret so your stepmother couldn’t try to spoil it.”

I blinked at him. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

He nodded at the week’s riding roster, which was hung on a nail beside the sliding glass door. “I’m actually your next student, but I used my middle name and my mother’s maiden name so your stepmother wouldn’t know.”

I stared at him for a moment before laughing. “That was brilliant! Knowing her, she probably would have tried giving you the lesson just to spite me.”

“She doesn’t give many lessons then, I take it?” he asked.

“Not generally,” I answered. But as I did, I couldn’t help taking a whiff of his cologne. And oh, he smelled good! Like the rain before a thunderstorm, mixed with half the spices in my kitchen.

“Seeing as your currently scheduled student is gone,” he said, looking around, “do you think we could start on my lesson? Or do you have to wait until the clock chimes or something?”

I laughed again. “No, we can start now.” I paused to glance back at the roster. “You marked on the intake survey that you’re a beginner. Have you ever ridden before?”

He shrugged. “Does a pony ride when I was four count?”

“If that’s the case, then a beginner is probably the right level for you,” I said with a grin. “Come on, let’s talk about how to get your horse saddled up.”

As we walked to the barn, I asked him why he was here. “I mean, I’m glad you’re here,” I hurried to add. “I just wasn’t sure if it was your dad’s birthday or something important.”

“I’ll see him and Margaret, of course.” He shrugged before giving me a sly look out of the corner of his eye. “But honestly? I really wanted a riding lesson.”

My mouth dropped open, but I couldn’t think of anything to say. So I closed it again and felt my face go red as I tried not to grin like an idiot.

Oh, if Amanda could only see me now.

Once in the barn, I had to decide which animal to assign him. He was tall, which meant he couldn’t ride our two smallest horses. And one of our mares was afraid of men, which meant there were only two options left.

“Bombadil it is,” I said with a nod before going to the horse’s stall.

He laughed. “Bombadil? Who came up with that name?”