"Right. Take control of an animal that outweighs me by four times."
Jack eyed her and she warmed under his gaze. "I’d say about eight or nine times, sugar. But that’d probably make you more nervous."
Holly’s tummy lurched. Eight or nine times? "Thanks for that, Jack."
"Aw, Holly," Sam said, "Ladybelle’s our most gentlest horse here. I’ve been ridin’ her since I was knee high
to a grasshopper."
Holly shook her head. Sam wasn’t much more than knee high to a grasshopper now. "Okay, here goes." She grasped the "withers" and lifted her left leg into the stirrup. Quite a difference from the only stirrups she’d encountered in the last year—those at the gynecologist’s office. Her skin chilled for a split second until she wiped the negative image from her mind. Today was for her and Jack and Sam. She’d worry about the rest tomorrow.
Make that Monday.
Tuesday at the latest.
"Okay, sugar, just push up with your left leg and swing your other leg over the back of Ladybelle there, onto the saddle."
"But be careful you don’t kick her flank," Sam warned, "or you’ll knock the wind out of her."
"Flank?"
"Right between the ribs and the hip," Jack said. "Just be careful. You won’t kick her."
"From your mouth to God’s ears," Holly mumbled. Just what she needed, an angry horse who couldn’t breathe while she was completely helpless, one leg lodged in a stirrup. She inhaled sharply and swung her leg over Ladybelle’s body.
Her bottom hit the hard saddle with a plunk.
"There you go," Jack said. "Now gather the reins and slide your other foot into the stirrup. Are you comfortable? Are the stirrups the right length? I can adjust them for you."
"How the heck should I know? They feel okay."
Jack gazed down at her feet. "Yeah, they look okay. You should be able to slide into them simply by lifting your feet a few inches. Now you wait while Sam and I get on our mounts, and we’ll start out."
"Uh, Jack?"
"Yeah?"
"She’s not going to...take off or anything, is she?"
He laughed. "No, sugar. Just sit tight. We’ll be with you in a minute."
Jack helped Sam onto a spotted gray horse, and then mounted his sleek brown horse with smooth grace. Damn, the man was beautiful.
"Okay, sugar. We’re gonna start with a slow walk. Just squeeze your calves together, and Ladybelle’ll know what to do."
"Don’t I just say ‘giddyup’ or something?"
Sam burst into giggles.
"No, Holly," Jack said. "Just squeeze your calves. Don’t kick, or she’ll get numb."
"I’d never kick any animal, Jack Sherwood."
"I know you wouldn’t. I’m just sayin’ don’t squeeze too hard. Sam, come on." Jack’s horse walked.
Holly stared at Jack’s finely shaped calves and tried to see exactly what he was doing. Underneath his jeans, those muscular legs were no doubt taut and sinewy with their squeezing movements. Unfortunately, she couldn’t see through the fabric, so she had to guess how much tension to put in her own legs.
Sam followed his father and Holly took a deep breath. It’s now or never, she said to herself, and squeezed her calves together.