After a moment of silence, he cleared his throat and told her all about Retired Racers, Jessica Wills, and the operation she’d been running for nearly ten years. Raine ignored a little spike of jealousy when she thought of the woman’s offer of her cousin’s daughter’s phone number. He’d turned her down anyway, so there was nothing to be jealous of, right?
Right.
It turned out “pop on over” ended up being almost a forty minute drive before Reyes turned onto a pine tree-lined drive bordered by pastures with white fences, and more than two dozen grazing horses dotting the green land.
He parked in front of a huge hunter green stable with five roof dormers on each side, and white trim all around. By the time they got out of the Jeep, a tall, slim blond woman in a yellow T-shirt, jeans, and cowboy boots exited the open doors and approached with a wide smile. Reyes had said Jessica was in her mid-fifties, but Raine wouldn’t have guessed her to be a day over forty.
The woman gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek before the two turned to her, and he made introductions.
Raine shook her hand as the woman eyed her with open curiosity. “Reyes told me all about Retired Racers on the way here. This place is very impressive.”
“Thanks.” Jessica twisted at the waist, her gaze sweeping toward the barn and back. “This is what my ex-husband gets for being a no-good, cheating sonofabitch.”
Raine couldn’t stop a high eyebrow arch, and the blond laughed.
“Jess has no filter,” Reyes warned with a smile. “You get used to it.”
“Too bad Thomas didn’t.” Jessica turned for the barn. “Oh well. His loss.”
“Clearly,” Raine murmured with a grin. She liked her—filter be damned.
On their way inside, the woman waved her hand in the general direction of the two of them. “What’s going on here?” Her gaze settled on Reyes. “Is this English filly why you won’t let me fix you up?”
English filly? Raine nearly choked on a surprised laugh, though she assumed her dark gray breeches and black riding boots had sparked the silly description.
“Raine and I are…friends.”
Jessica laughed with clear disbelief. “Right. And I’m the bloody queen of England.” Before either of them could reply, the blond stopped in front of a stall where a tall, black thoroughbred had its head extended over the door, curious brown eyes watching the three of them. “Anyway, this lady here is Willow Moonlight, and next to her is Saving Grace.”
Raine grinned at the names. She absolutely loved the creativity involved in naming horses—especially thoroughbred race horses. Moving over to the bay mare’s stall, she rubbed her forehead while Jessica went over what she knew of each horse’s history.
Each had been with her for nearly two months to rest and de-stress after varying success at the track. Willow had been over-trained after her winning streak waned, and
Saving Grace had needed a low-impact environment to recover from a gastric ulcer. Both situations were something Raine had heard of in her field as well, though careful monitoring ensured her horses never reached a level where drastic intervention was required.
Jessica explained sometimes a horse needed to just be a horse instead of a high-performance athlete. Eat grass, doze in the sunshine, run through a green pasture. Some could go back, while most ‘retired’ to a new life, transitioning into lower-stress careers.
Listening to her and Reyes discuss possible paths for each thoroughbred gave Raine a new level of appreciation for his skill and knowledge. It was obvious he earned respect from everyone he worked with. Uncle Mark and Aunt Janine. The Hamiltons. Jessica.
Recognizing the depth of their confidence in him, she realized she’d been holding back during their training sessions. She hadn’t trusted that he knew enough to truly be of any help to her and Fire. How could he when he had no experience with riders, and she hadn’t actually witnessed proof of his results with horses?
But last night proved his instincts were dead on. In the dead of night, she accepted the fact she needed to face her fear of that one stupid jump. Things hadn’t gone so well that morning, but it was time for her to confront what had happened head on, not forget it.
And if she was going to make forward progress, she needed to fully trust Reyes to do what was best for her and her horse. Because he’d also proved last night, and today, he had her best interests at heart—not his own.
11
Reyes put the last of the horses out to pasture Saturday morning, and then found a western saddle similar to his to fit Diamond Fire. Taz was all ready to go, and he was tightening Fire’s cinch when Raine arrived for her training session a few minutes later.
His pulse gave the usual excited skip as he swept his gaze over her standard uniform of T-shirt, breeches, boots, and braid. Then again, there was nothing standard about her ass in those breeches. They were killing him every single day—though, far be it for him to complain.
She, however, eyed the western saddle with a frown. “Why is he wearing that?”
“We’re going for a trail ride.”
Her gaze shifted from Fire to Taz and back. “What about training?”
He finished with the cinch and flipped the stirrup down from over the seat. “When’s the last time you rode Fire for fun?”