Wind River Wrangler (Wind River Valley #1)(22)

“Every saddle is used by a specific horse,” he told her, motioning to the plastic nameplates above each one. “Charley’s is there on your left, in the center. See it?”

Shiloh quickly spotted it because his name was carved in wood just above the gear. She saw the saddle and it was padded on the seat, sewn in a diamond-like pattern. “This looks comfortable,” she said, smiling over at him. She saw him nod and push the brim of his Stetson up a bit on his brow. Roan was so pulverizingly male, it kept her feeling like her lower body was constantly on simmer. Wanting him, Shiloh had no idea if he had a girlfriend or was in a serious relationship with another woman. He was just too drop-dead gorgeous to be available.

“It’s a comfortable saddle to ride.” Walking over, Roan showed her the bridle above the saddle. “This is Charley’s bridle,” he said, and he pulled it off the hook, settling it into her open hand. “Every horse has a bit in its mouth and that’s the way we control the animal.” He tapped the clean silver bit. “Charley has what we call a soft mouth and this is called a snaffle bit. His mouth is sensitive and he responds quickly if you pull on his reins.” He took the bridle, slid it up her arm, and settled it across her shoulder. “This is how we carry the bridle. Slide your arms through either end of the saddle and lift it off its resting place. It weighs about twenty pounds.”

Shiloh was surprised at the weight as she did as he instructed.

“Good,” Roan murmured. “Now, follow me.”

Walking out into the barn once more, Roan showed her where to put the saddle and bridle near the cross ties. She felt good, being able to heft the heavy leather saddle around by herself. Maybe she wasn’t as much of a weakling as she first thought. Her confidence began to blossom. She followed Roan to Charley’s stall. He stepped aside.

“Okay, so go in and get Charley. He’s cleaned up his hay,” he said, and the floor was clean.

Feeling proud of herself, she led Charley out of the stall on the nylon lead. Roan came up to her, settling his hands on her shoulders.

“Never walk in front of a horse, Shiloh.” He eased her off to one side of Charley. “Remember? He can’t see you because his eyes are on the sides of his head?”

“Darn,” she murmured, apologetic. “You’re right.”

“If he got spooked, he’d lunge forward to run away from whatever scared him. You’d get run over in the process.” Roan forced himself to release her shoulders. Even though he wore leather gloves, he could feel the softness of her skin beneath the blouse she wore. “By being on either the right or left side of him, he can see you. If something scares him, he’ll leap away from you. A horse will never run over a human if they can help it.”

“That’s good to know,” Shiloh said wryly, grinning.

Roan took her hand, placing it just below the snap on the halter and lead rope. “Always walk your horse like this. That way, you have a grip and control on his head. The horse can’t move away from you as long as you manage where you want his head. Take Charley down to the ties,” he said, and he pointed down the walkway.

Nodding, Shiloh tugged on the lead rope. Charley came, walking quietly at her side. She smiled proudly, feeling happy and pleased with herself. Roan walked on the other side of Charley, his unforgiving profile making her once more want to explore and kiss that strong mouth of his.

Roan showed her how to place the panic snaps on each side of Charley’s halter as he stood quietly between them in the middle of the breezeway. “Panic snaps are just that,” Roan told her, showing her how to open it at an instant’s notice. “Sometimes a horse will get spooked while in ties and they can twist turn and end up choking themselves to death on one of these cross ties.” He ran his gloved hand down the length of sturdy nylon rope. “All you need to do is pull this lever down and it immediately opens the snaps and stops the horse from killing itself while in panic mode.”

She grinned. “I should have a set of these for my life.”

Roan’s mouth stretched. “I think everyone should have a set.” She was a feisty filly and he felt his heart opening more toward her. Yes, she was a city slicker, no doubt, but she had moxie and she wasn’t afraid to try new things. Two things he liked to see in a woman he was interested in. Roan tried to push away his desire for Shiloh. Tendrils of red hair softly caressed her flushed cheeks and he wanted to fall helplessly into her shining forest-green eyes. When his gaze dropped to her curved lips, everything in his lower body went on red alert. Groaning inwardly, he felt his erection stir. Not good. It would be hell to ride with later, so he placed steel control over his body. Their laughter echoed around the area. It felt damn good to laugh. Roan didn’t do it often, but the warm fuzzies in his chest just kept opening up and making him feel a sharpened, edgy hunger for Shiloh.

Snapping it closed, he said, “Let’s mosey back to the tack room.” This time, Shiloh walked in front of him and that was a mistake. The sweet sway of her hips, those long legs of hers, made him groan internally. Already, visions of having her naked, lying in his bed on her back, and him running his fingers down her rib cage, enclosing those hips, opening her thighs, hit him broadside. Giving a shake of his head, Roan felt like he’d been poleaxed. What was it about sweet, shy Shiloh that called to him like a mermaid siren? Roan grimly reminded himself those mermaids sang sailors to their deaths, too.