Riding High. Vicki Lewis Thompson
her salt would agree that he was one good-looking dude.
Fate wasn’t being kind to her. She’d broken up with her steady boyfriend last fall. He hadn’t approved of her plan to leave her job with a tech company in Silicon Valley and find a worthwhile charity to support in her hometown. Instead he’d been after her to create another moneymaking game and buy a Porsche or some other stupid luxury car.
She didn’t miss Alfred, who’d turned out to have a completely different value system from hers. But she sure missed the sex. Until Regan had shown up outside her gate, she hadn’t realized how much she missed it.
Unbeknownst to him, probably, he was a walking invitation to partake of those pleasures. Much as she strove to be nonjudgmental about his ex, the thought continued to surface—the woman was an idiot. Regan was brave, resourceful and breathtakingly handsome. Maybe he left dirty socks on the floor and the toilet seat up. Lily could forgive even those sins for a chance to jump his bones. His off-limits bones. Damn.
He continued to talk to Rex as he led the gelding into the corral. Then he removed the lead rope and gave Rex a slap on the rump. The palomino took off, and Regan came to stand beside her, coiling the lead rope. “We’re going to have to watch that one.”
“I can see that.” Lily closed and latched the gate. “You scared me to death walking into the stall with only a rope.”
“It usually works. I was ready to back out again if he’d turned on me. I’m no hero when it comes to dealing with a two-thousand-pound animal in a bad mood.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
He gave her a lopsided grin. “Aw, shucks, ma’am. T’weren’t nothin’.”
Please don’t be charming. She was having enough trouble keeping her libido in check. “Why does flicking a rope work?”
“Most horses hate having something flicked in their face, and the more you do it, the more they back away from it. It’s a great way to get them to move without hurting them.”
Lily thought of her futile attempt to coax Sally away from the porch railing this morning. “What if you don’t have a rope handy? I can’t picture myself carrying one around all the time.”
“Ideally you would have a lead rope clipped to their halter when you’re working with them.”
“Okay, but what about the times I’m not working with them and they’re...”
“Loose?”
She flushed. “I know. They shouldn’t be loose, but there’s no way I can adopt out six or seven horses in the next few days, and I don’t like the idea of keeping them cooped up in the barn all the time. Even the corral is confining.”
“You’re right. You should only be using the corral for training. You could fence off a couple of acres so they have some room to run around, and then they won’t be chewing on your house or pooping in your front yard.”
She stared at him. “That’s brilliant. Why didn’t I think of that?”
“You didn’t want to restrict their freedom.”
She had said that, but coming from him, especially after the scare they’d just had, it sounded naive. “I’ve revised my opinion. But getting someone out here to construct the fence will take a while. What should I do in the meantime? Walk around carrying a rope?”
“You could carry a leather quirt and stick it in your back pocket.”
“So I could hit them with it? I don’t want to do that.”
“Chances are you wouldn’t have to touch them. You’d just wave it in their face like you would a rope.”
“I’ll think about it.” She couldn’t imagine walking around with a quirt stuck in her back pocket, either. She’d probably lose the darn thing. “Couldn’t I just clap my hands and achieve the same thing?”
“Not really.”
She sighed and glanced over at Rex, who was prancing around with his tail in the air, as if he owned that little circle. “Rex seems to like this setup just fine. He’s king of the corral.”
“So that’s his name? I couldn’t remember, but it fits him. He wants to rule any situation he’s in, I’ll bet. Did the people who brought him in say anything about his personality?”
Lily thought back to the young woman who’d left Rex at the sanctuary. “She said he was too much horse for her. She was small, so I thought that’s what she meant. Rex came here shortly after I took over, so at first he only had the old horses to deal with.”
“And he could boss them around.”
“They didn’t seem to mind. Strawberry, the big roan, was the first horse to challenge Rex, but after they did a little snorting and pawing, they stayed away from each other. I kept Rex in a stall by himself until recently. I thought he’d be okay with Sandy, who’s not aggressive at all. And it worked out until tonight.”
Regan nudged back the brim of his hat and glanced over at the barn. “I don’t want to chance putting anyone else in the corral with Rex tonight. He might be fine, but he might not. I guess we have to turn them all loose again. It’s what they’re used to.”
“And now I have a strategy to prevent Sally from trying to come in the house. I’ll keep a rope handy.”
“You know why she does that, right?”
“Sure. She thinks she’s a dog. Or a person.”
“No, she’s trying to gain more control over you. Horses will push when they sense you’re not in charge.”
That made her laugh. “I think it’s pretty obvious by now that I’m not in charge. Far from it, in fact.”
“But you need to be,” he said quietly.
“Boy, that sounded serious.”
“It is serious. These are big animals, very strong animals. They’re used to having a leader of the herd, and if you don’t accept that role, one of them will take it. Rex may think he already has. Strawberry might decide to fight him for it. Losing control is dangerous to them and dangerous to you.”
Her pulse rate picked up, and this time it had nothing to do with how beautiful his eyes were and how much she wanted to do him. “Regan, you’re scaring me.”
“Good. I mean to. You’ve been lucky so far. Most of the horses haven’t been here very long, and at least six of them are too old to harm anyone. But you need to let them all know you’re the boss, and very soon.”
A shiver ran down her spine. “I don’t have the skills to do that, yet. I’ll need training as much as they do. And practice. I’ll call somebody first thing in the morning about fencing in a couple of acres. Oh, wait, what’s tomorrow?”
“Saturday.”
She groaned. “Some fencing companies will be closed, and even if I find one that isn’t, they probably won’t be able to finish it up until the first part of next week.”
“I could ask Nick if he could pull in a favor. The Chance name might help.”
“Sure, okay.” She combed her fingers through her hair while she thought through her options. “I’m not too proud to accept that. If you’ll call him now, I’ll let the horses out.”
“Look, I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but I’m worried about you.”
“I know.” She drew in a shaky breath. “I just never imagined that my good deed could turn into a life-threatening situation—for me or for the other horses. Call Nick. I’ll be right back. Then we should feed the pigs and the chickens.”
Turning, she walked toward the barn. Her rose-colored glasses were smashed to smithereens, and as she entered the overcrowded space,