Page 17 of Ella and the Enchanted Bookshop

“I did when I was nine. Because he likes to play tricks.” But as I was speaking, another horse–one of our newest boarders–whinnied and leaned his head out of his stall, looking directly at Asher the whole time.

“Wow,” I said, tying Bombadil to the nearest post. “Tomcat seems to like you. He’s one of our newest visitors here.” I went to the tack room and grabbed one of our grooming buckets. When I came back out, Asher was in front of Tomcat’s stall, rubbing the horse affectionately and talking to him in soft tones.

In that moment, I wasn’t sure it was possible for a man to get more attractive than that. Maybe if he was holding a baby?

“Wow. You’re a natural.” I held up the bucket. “After you’re a little more familiar with the items in here, we can see what other kinds of horse whispering you’re capable of. Now, before you ride, it’s time for you to learn about everything in this bucket. Starting with the curry comb.”

After we’d gone through all of the main tools in the bucket, and he’d tried his hand at the actual grooming, Bombadil was saddled, and I had him lead Bombadil out into the arena.

“So you’re tall enough to mount on your own. But we’re going to start you on the steps,” I said, carrying the mounting block–a set of four blue plastic steps–out into the arena. “It’s a good way to get familiar with the horse and to let him get comfortable with you.” I put the steps down and went over to the horse’s head to hold him still. “Climb those steps, then grab the reins and the mane in your left hand. Yeah, just like that. Now put your left foot in the stirrup. Lean forward to center your weight. Now swing your leg over. Perfect!”

I was impressed. His mounting really had been perfect. “Awesome. Now we’re going to–”

Just then, a rattlesnake slithered out onto the sand in front of the horse, and Bombadil reared.

It was every trainer’s nightmare.

But as I watched in horror, Asher handled it like a pro. Staying calm in the saddle, he maintained his center of gravity, and instead of trying to pull the horse back or trying to force him to stay in place, he moved him forward, riding him around the arena until Bombadil was no longer spooked, murmuring softly to him and rubbing his neck soothingly.

As soon as Bombadil was across the arena, I snatched a shovel from the side of the building and brought it down hard, separating the snake’s head from its body. Only after the snake was dead and I’d recovered my voice, however, did I fully realize what had just happened.

“Asher,” I said, sounding somewhat breathless, “would I be wrong in guessing that you’ve ridden a horse at some point since the pony?”

Asher gave me a sheepish grin. “Maybe?”

“How much?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

His sheepish grin widened. “I might have had some lessons.”

“Some. Uh-huh.” I nodded. “And would you ever have happened to compete?”

Asher shrugged. “A few times here and there.”

Shaking my head, I decided to press further. “And would you happen to hold any titles?”

“I… might have won one or two?”

I held a hand up expectantly. “And they were?”

He sighed and looked down at the horse. “American West Teen Jumping Champion? And… Pacific West Junior Rider Champion?”

My mouth fell open. “Are you serious?”

He looked at me, his eyes wide. “Why?”

I threw my arms up. “Asher, you’ve won more titles than me! I should be asking you for lessons!” I laughed as embarrassment washed over me, remembering every bit of basic encouragement I’d given him for grooming and mounting well. “Why’d you sign up for a novice lesson?”

He dismounted and led the horse back to where I was standing. “Because if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have gotten an hour with you alone.”

I stared at him. He’d done all of this… to spend time with me?

“You… you could have just asked,” I said, trying not to turn the color of a cherry.

He gave me a thoughtful look. “But would your schedule have permitted it? And by your schedule, I mean your stepmother?”

I opened my mouth to tell him that I was an adult, and that I was good and well able to schedule my own time. But my recent argument with my stepmother shut my mouth once more.

“Look.” He removed his helmet and stretched his shoulders. “I’m sorry for not telling you all of the truth.” Then he gave me that adorable sheepish grin. “But… I really did want to spend time with you. Do you think we could still ride for the rest of the hour?”