Page 24 of Don't Burn Bridges
His gaze followed her across the parking lot. She always looked like she had one foot out the door—even when she wasn’t going anywhere. And maybe that’s what he’d noticed first, the thing he couldn’t quite shake—she didn’t seem like the type of woman who stayed. Not when she had the freedom now to roam after her duty caring for her mother was over.
But she was still here.
Maybe she wasn't as eager to leave Hazard Falls as she once seemed.
He hoped it was true.
Chapter 12
Forty-five minutes later, Shylo approached the open doors of the Red River Ranch’s main barn in a pair of jeans, a vintage-looking Fleetwood Mac T-shirt, and her boots. The air was thick with the scent of hay, leather, and musk. Seth stood nearby with two horses tied to a hitching post. His own horse, Maple, was already saddled, and the other was a slightly smaller gray mare. Shylo's heart thumped faster, though she wasn't sure if it was the intimidating animals or the handsome man that rattled her more.
He wore the same clothes she’d seen him in earlier—snug jeans hugging long, strong legs, and a royal blue Triple-R T-shirt that made his eyes stand out beneath the brim of his tan straw hat. She reminded herself not to get lost in their depths.
He smiled when he spotted her. “Hey. Nice boots.”
She glanced down at her feet. The brown boots were secondhand from a local thrift store and gently worn—comfortable from the first time she'd put them on. Excellent reviews and an affordable price had convinced her to buy them.
“Thanks.”
“You should also get a hat, but since we’ll be mostly in the shade today, you don’t have to worry about sunburn.”
Seth stroked the gray mare’s neck, the animal’s ears flicking forward at the sound of his voice. “This is Daisy—the sweetest girl on the ranch. Ari was about five or six when she learned to ride on her. She has another horse now that she’s training with for barrel racing, but she still likes to take this girl out for rides. Daisy’s bombproof, steady, and about as stubborn as a golden retriever.”
Shylo offered a nervous laugh. “She’s... bigger than I expected.”
“She’s a marshmallow. Here.” He pulled a sugar cube from his pocket and held it out to her. “Flat hand. Let her smell you first.”
She hesitated, then took a small step forward and offered the treat to the horse. Daisy's velvety muzzle bumped her palm before gently taking the sugar cube. Shylo giggled because it’d tickled. “Oh my God. I can’t believe I did that, and she didn’t bite any of my fingers off.”
“She likes you already.” Seth’s smiled. “Now give her a good rub right here.” He guided her hand gently between the horse’s eyes. “That’s her sweet spot.”
Shylo ran her palm over the mare’s forehead, surprised by how soft her coat felt—and how calm the horse seemed beneath her touch. “She is sweet.”
“Told ya.” He picked up a saddle. “This is Paige’s. I asked if I could borrow it since you’re close to her size. I’ll saddle Daisy for you, walk you through everything, and when we’re riding, I’ll attach an extra lead to her in case something startles her. It rarely happens, but just to be on the safe side.”
He set to work with practiced ease, securing the saddle, adjusting the stirrups, and checking the girth. Then he turned to her. “Ready?”
“Probably not,” she muttered.
He chuckled. “Don’t worry—Daisy and I will take good care of you. Now, step up on this mounting block. I’ll steady her. Put your left foot in the stirrup. Hands on the horn, and pull yourself up and on.”
With a deep breath, she did as he said. Awkward and a little clumsy, she swung her leg over and settled into the saddle. It felt higher than she had imagined. Less secure. “Whoa. And I didn’t mean that as in whoa to the horse, but more like whoa, this is insane.”
“No, it’s not. Trust me. You’re doing great.” He tightened a lead rope to Daisy’s halter, then clipped it to his saddle horn. “I’ve got her. You just hold the reins and focus on staying relaxed.”
Seth mounted Maple and gave Shylo a reassuring look. “We’ll loop through the woods and back at a comfortable walk—no trotting or running on your first ride. It’s easy terrain. If you want to test the reins a bit, gently pull them to the left or right, whatever direction you want her to go. Ease back on them if you want her to stop.” He snorted. “That’s when you can say whoa if you want to.”
“Cute.”
“I thought so. Anyway, she’ll follow me with no prompting from you, but she will obey any signals from you too.” He relaxed into his saddle. “Ready?”
She nodded, gripping the reins with slightly stiff fingers. Daisy shifted beneath her, but didn’t move forward until Seth clicked his tongue and gave Maple a nudge. The horses fell into a slow, steady rhythm—walking side by side, with Daisy keeping a half-step behind Maple, guided by the tethered lead.
The farther they rode from the barn, the more the tension in Shylo's shoulders abated. At Daisy's unhurried pace, she finally let herself breathe normally. The gentle sway of the saddle, the creak of leather, even the rhythmic clop of hooves beneath her—it wasn't as intimidating as she'd feared. Even so, a sliver of doubt remained. What if something startled Daisy and she bolted?
“You okay over there?” Seth asked after a few moments of silence.
“I think so. Either I’m getting the hang of it... or Daisy’s doing all the work.”
