Her Small-Town Cowboy (7 page)

BOOK: Her Small-Town Cowboy
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Cocking his head, he gave his romantic mother a warning glare. Which she didn’t see because she was already walking away from the table.

Chapter Four

I
t was a good thing for him that Lily was here.

Mike had only three riding students on the first day, but they were a real handful. Kennedy was so wired, he kept waiting for her to burst from all the excitement. Brianna kept nibbling the apple slices she was supposed to save for Sparkle, the dappled gray pony who was patiently enduring all their attention.

And then there was Peter. With a nest of dark hair and huge brown eyes, by turns he looked thrilled to be here and scared to death. Mike had a knack for reading horses to gauge what they needed from him, but other people’s kids, not so much. Lily, on the other hand, was an expert.

“Peter,” she called out softly, “Sparkle’s mane is pretty tangled on this side. Why don’t you come help me straighten it out?”

There was absolutely nothing wrong with the mare’s grooming, and Mike came close to telling her so. Then he realized that she was trying to make their student feel more comfortable around the pony and decided it was best to keep his mouth shut. After some hemming and hawing, Peter edged cautiously around the horse and watched while Lily combed her fingers through the long, silky strands. The boy copied her motion, and Mike looked on in amazement as his semiterrified expression gave way to a tentative smile.

“She’s really pretty,” he said, lightly patting her neck.

“Girls like hearing that,” Lily commented, flashing a playful grin up at Mike. “Don’t they, Mr. Kinley?”

There was no resisting that look, so he didn’t even bother trying. Instead, he met the challenge and smiled back. “So I’ve heard.”

“Can any of you tell me what a girl horse is called?” Lily asked, hunkering down to put her on a level with the kids clustered around her. They all raised their hands as if they were still in her classroom, and Mike swallowed a chuckle to avoid embarrassing anyone. “Kennedy?”

“A mare,” the perky redhead answered confidently. “A boy horse is a stallion.”

“That’s right,” Lily commented, wiping her hands on her jeans as she stood. “Sparkle looks like she’s ready for a rider now. Who wants to go first?”

Crickets.

Mike bit back a groan, wondering why their overly optimistic parents had signed them up for riding lessons if they were scared of a horse whose dainty ears barely reached his shoulders. Abby was fearless by nature, and spending her life around animals of all sizes had made her so bold, he wasn’t prepared for her friends to be the exact opposite.

Fortunately, she was just outside the fence, keeping silent as a mouse the way she’d promised before they started. When he raised his eyebrows at her, she took his cue and clambered over the rail with the practiced motion of a rodeo star.

“Here, guys,” she offered brightly. “Watch me.”

Plunking a helmet over her braids, she swung into the saddle as if she’d been born there and nudged Sparkle into a walk and then a mellow trot. Guiding the pony with a sure hand, she circled the ring and did a figure eight in the middle, just the way he’d taught her. In spite of her age, she handled it all with the grace of a self-assured teenager, and Mike knew he’d just been granted a glimpse of what was coming down the road for them both.

Part of him felt proud to know he was part of the reason she was growing into such a fine young lady. Another part—the one that made him crazy sometimes—dreaded the day she met up with a young man who recognized how incredible she was. Since no father ever born could stop the inevitable, Mike pushed the worry back into its dark corner and let himself enjoy the moment.

Halting in the center and facing her friends, Abby dropped the reins and held out her hands. “See? It’s easy, and way more fun than watching.”

Her little demonstration was just the trick, and their three guests lined up behind Lily, clamoring for a turn. After cautioning them to stay calm and quiet, she helped Kennedy into the seat and pointed over to the rail. “Just copy what Abby showed you, and you’ll be fine. Sparkle knows what to do.”

While Mike had great confidence in the pony’s gentle demeanor, he figured it was best to stay alert as he edged farther into the small area. He’d put the softest rubber bit he had in the bridle, which was a good thing because this girl was sawing on the reins as if she was trying to start a fire.

“Just hold them still down on her neck,” he advised in what he hoped came across as a helpful tone. “She knows where you want her to go.”

“How?”

“Horses are pretty smart.”
Smarter than most people,
he nearly added before thinking better of it. He was being paid to teach children to ride horses, he reminded himself, not destroy their innocent view of the world in general.

When he judged that they’d gone on long enough, he spiraled his finger in the air in the “wrap it up” signal he and Lily had arranged earlier. Nodding, she stepped in to take Sparkle’s reins and help Kennedy down before boosting Brittany on. Her session went pretty much the same way, and then it was Peter’s turn.

Mike couldn’t deny he had a special interest in this particular student. They had something very sober in common, and hard as it had been for him to absorb the grief of losing his father, he couldn’t imagine how tough it was for a child. He wanted to do something for this little guy, to let him know someone understood how he was feeling.

Since he didn’t have Lily’s gentle touch, Mike recognized that sharing his training expertise was the best he could do. He only hoped it would help somehow.

The boy seemed more self-assured around the horse now, and he listened intently to both Lily’s and Mike’s instructions. When a squawking blue jay landed on the fence post near her head, Sparkle abruptly lurched to the side and started prancing away from it.

“There, there,” Peter crooned, patting her neck in a soothing gesture. “It’s just a noisy little bird. You’re okay.”

He didn’t yank on the reins or grab the saddle horn in a death grip the way most adults would have done. Instead, he let the mare have her head and waited for her to settle. When she did, he smiled and ruffled her mane. “There’s a good girl, Sparkle. You’re doing fine.”

“That was fantastic, Peter,” Mike praised him without hesitation, strolling over to meet them. “You calmed her down in record time. I’m real impressed.”

“I didn’t want her to be scared.” Staring down at the reins clutched in his pudgy fingers, he added, “It’s no fun to be scared.”

Resting a hand on his shoulder, Mike waited for the boy to meet his eyes. “No, it’s not. It takes a brave person to make someone else feel safe.”

“I’m not brave. I’m just a kid.”

“From what I’ve seen, you’ve got more courage than most grown-ups do their whole lives.”

Peter’s miserable expression morphed into joy, and his eyes suddenly glowed with pride. “Thanks, Mr. Kinley.”

“Anytime. Since you’re the last one on, how’d you like to walk Sparkle back to the stable for a rubdown?”

“Awesome!” Seeming to catch himself, he took a breath and more quietly said, “Yes, please.”

Chuckling, Mike rumpled his unruly hair and strode on ahead of him. It was almost dinnertime, and Sparkle followed sedately in his tracks, sniffing at his pockets for the oat treats he always kept there.

In the barn, Mike supervised while the kids untacked their equine friend and showered her with compliments and hugs while they brushed her coat. She ate up all the attention, and Mike was fairly certain that if she’d been human, her head would’ve ended up being twice its usual size by the time they were done.

They turned her out into the pasture with her stablemates and walked over to the house, where three cars were parked in the turnaround. After assuring the children’s parents that everything had gone according to plan, Mike was surprised to discover he wasn’t as glad to have the first lesson over with as he’d anticipated.

“Huh,” he grunted to no one in particular. Since he didn’t say anything beyond that, he was surprised when Lily laughed.

“Not as bad as you were expecting?”

“Not even close. ’Course, I had some help.” Catching Abby in a one-armed hug, he grinned down at her. “You were a real trouper out there, rodeo girl.”

“You, too, Daddy. And Lily was just fab, don’t you think?”

“‘Just fab,’” he echoed with a groan. “You’ve been spending too much time with those college girls who volunteer over at the rescue center.”

Giggling, she squirmed out of his grasp and bolted for the back door. Through the open kitchen window, he caught the scent of what smelled like a fresh batch of his mother’s secret-recipe snickerdoodles.

That left him alone with Lily for the first time since they’d arranged their unlikely partnership. Figuring he owed her a thank-you for her help, Mike swiveled to face her, intending to say something about how well things had gone. Then she smiled at him, and any coherent thought he might have shared with her went straight out of his head.

Coming down through the leaves stretching out overhead, the late-afternoon sunlight picked up a subtle pattern of lighter blue in her eyes, making them look like stars. He was standing close enough to pick up the fragrance of roses mixed with saddle oil, and he couldn’t help thinking the unique mixture of class and country suited her perfectly.

Well aware that he was gawking at her like a teenager with a crippling case of puppy love, he struggled to knock his brain back into gear.

With her usual impeccable timing, she broke the silence. “It’s getting late, and I’ve got some paperwork to do, so I should go. Thanks so much for today, Mike. I had a great time.”

“Yeah, me, too.”

Flashing him another of her brilliant smiles, she climbed into her car and headed up the gravel driveway to the main road. He kept his eyes on the cheery convertible until it disappeared around the bend that led to town, and for a while longer after that. He didn’t know what had happened to him, or when, but there was no point in denying it. Every time he and Lily said goodbye, he found himself looking forward to the next time he’d see her.

Smitten, his father would have called it, Mike acknowledged with a sigh. The trouble was, much as he’d like to dive in and see what might happen between the pretty teacher and him, he didn’t have room in his life for anyone right now. Beyond that, Abby was his first priority, and he couldn’t risk having her get attached to someone only to be left behind again.

That should have ended the whole issue for him, he thought as he trudged up the porch steps. But it didn’t. And for the life of him, he didn’t know what to do about it.

* * *

It was the last Wednesday of the school year, and Lily was making the rounds of her classroom when she noticed an anxious face framed in the window of her door. Seeing that it was the principal, Mr. Allen, she held up her index finger for him to wait a minute and did a quick assessment of her students’ progress.

“Those letters look much better today, Frankie,” she praised one boy hard at work on his alphabet. “Would you like to write them up on the smart board for us later?”

His plump cheeks broke into a huge grin. “Yes, ma’am.”

Patting his shoulder, she moved past the table and met the principal out in the hallway. “Good morning, Mr. Allen. What can I do for you?”

“I’m hoping you can get me out of a jam,” he replied in a panicky voice. “One of the first-grade classes is putting on their play this afternoon. The parents are on their way, and the teacher who’s supposed to be in charge just called from the hospital. Her husband broke his leg at work, and she’s going to be out the rest of the day.”

“Can’t someone else step in? I don’t know the first thing about this play.”

“The room moms have the costumes, props and music under control. I just need someone to keep the kids in line while they’re waiting backstage. Eighteen hyper seven-year-olds are more than the volunteers can manage on their own.”

Apparently, she’d gotten a bit of a reputation during her brief time in Oaks Crossing, she realized with a mental sigh. Lily St. George: Kid Wrangler. Everyone had a talent, she supposed, and stepping in to help out this way would certainly look good in the teamwork section of her professional assessment. Still, she wasn’t sure what to do about her own class. Then a solution occurred to her, and she said, “I’m happy to pitch in, as long as my students can come watch the show. It’ll be a nice surprise for them.”

“Fine. And thank you very much. You’ve saved me the trouble of canceling the performance and disappointing the kids and their families.” After shaking her hand, he hurried back down the hall even as the loudspeaker started paging him about a crisis in the cafeteria.

When she filled her class in on their change in plans for this morning, they cheered with the kind of enthusiasm she adored in young children. At this age, it was all or nothing, and she often wished it was possible for people to hold on to that attitude as they grew up. Everyday worries and responsibilities had a way of eroding that optimistic view of the world, which in her opinion was a real shame. It was one of the big reasons why she’d chosen to become a teacher over any other career. Being with children all day helped her put life’s ups and downs in their proper perspective.

She kept an eye on the clock and interrupted their lesson on plants at a good stopping point. “Okay, let’s get ready to go to the auditorium. Quietly,” she reminded them with a finger over her lips. “Other students are still working in their classrooms, and we don’t want to distract them.”

They gathered near the door in as orderly a fashion as could be expected from a group of excited kindergarteners, and she rewarded them with a smile before leading them into the hallway. Once she got them all seated near the back of the audience, Principal Allen hustled over, tie flapping over the shoulder of his suit jacket.

“Thanks again, Miss St. George. I’ll stay and watch them for you while you’re backstage.” Glancing over the little group, he gave them a somber warning look. “This is a treat for you, and I expect you to be on your best behavior.”

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