Wild Trail (Clean Slate Ranch #1)(13)



Bert and Robin were saddling two more horses, and the four of them would lead the lessons today. Thanks to Tude’s ease with children, Mack had lucked into teaching the Reynolds quartet, instead of being stuck with Wes and his party. Being that close to Wes for instruction, touching his body in order to help him adjust to stirrups and mounting—Jesus, don’t think about mounting!—the horse would have been a terrible idea. Awful.

Except he wanted to touch Wes, and that was bad. Something about him reached out to Mack in a visceral way he hadn’t felt since Geoff—which was exactly why he needed to keep his distance. One-and-done in a bathroom stall was fine. Acting on a strong attraction to a guy who was clearly interested right back? No. If he had to take cold showers all week and stick his head in the horse trough on occasion, he’d rather do that than start something they couldn’t finish.

He hadn’t managed to corner Colt yet and ask what he and Wes had talked about earlier after Mack walked away. He’d queried Reyes and gotten a typical “Stuff” reply. Reyes was the least gossipy person Mack had ever met, so his best bet was Colt. Colt sucked at keeping secrets and loved talking about his own sex life. He was also part of today’s horse-riding lesson, as an extra hand, so Mack would have to wait until dinner to interrogate his friend.

When Tude was properly outfitted in her tack, Mack led her out of the barn to the rear corral. Their guests were waiting on the other side of the fence, milling in small groups. The youngest Reynolds boy, Joey, squealed as the first saddled horse appeared. He grabbed his brother’s arm, and they bounced around on their side of the fence. Their moms watched with indulgent smiles, the kind of loving, happy family Mack missed. He and Geoff had never gotten around to discussing kids, but it had been on Mack’s mind those final few months.

And then Geoff was gone.

A flash of white-blond hair stole his attention away from maudlin things. Wes leaned against the corral, arms draped over the wood, his eyes hidden behind a pair of blue-lens sunglasses. Reyes got to deal with him today, thank God.

“Afternoon,” Mack said to the group. “Gonna get started with the lessons once my fellow horsemen get finished lollygagging in the barn. Today’s basic lessons: Mounting. Riding.” Jesus, why do those things have to sound so sexual? “Leading your horse. It’s also a chance for me to observe y’all, see which horse I think you’ll be most comfortable with on trail rides and such.”

“Why does it matter?” Miller asked. “Isn’t a horse a horse?”

“Of course, of course,” his cohort Liam chimed in. Know-it-all college students. They were going to be a pain in the ass this week.

“No. Horses are smarter animals than a lot of people give them credit for,” Mack replied in his gruffest tone. “You try to mount a horse that doesn’t like you? You’ll end up with your face in the dirt sure as shootin’. All of our horses are retirees or rescues, and we’ve worked with them extensively. Pairing you up with the right mount is as much to protect you as to protect the horse.”

“So pairing us with the right horse is kind of like setting up a friend on a blind date,” Wes said. “With or without the mounting.”

Mack leveled Wes with a glare, but the guy’s bright, innocent smile chased away Mack’s annoyance with the flirting. “Now, if some of you don’t think you can pull yourself up the old-fashioned way, we’ve got steps.” He pointed at the set of wooden steps near the corral gate without breaking his gaze-lock with Wes.

Next to Wes, Sophie giggled.

Reyes and Hot Coffee joined them, and Reyes introduced his horse. The pair of them took turns describing the things the horses wore, what they did, and why. Mack did a demo, mounting Tude with ease, and settling into the saddle. “Once you’re up,” he said, “we’ll adjust your stirrups so you’ve got the right fit. You need to be able to lock your knees and lift your rear end off the saddle when you canter or gallop, so’s you don’t end up sitting on a pillow all night long.”

Wes hid his face behind his hand, and Mack could only imagine the thoughts flying through his pretty little head. Made Mack doubly glad there were two children present, because they were probably the only reason Wes was holding back. He didn’t strike Mack as a subtle person.

“As it is,” Mack continued, “you don’t wanna ride too long your first time. Straddling a horse stretches your thigh muscles, and you’re likely to be sore if you spend too much time in the saddle.”

Wes’s face went bright red, hand still over his mouth. Mack had given this speech a thousand times, and never in his life had it sounded so much like a euphemism for sex, and it was all Wes’s fault. The little devil deserved a spanking for distracting him so much. Mack cleared his throat. Nope. Not thinking about that while on a horse and wearing tight jeans.

Reyes took over by mounting Hot Coffee and showing them how to tell the horse to go with their heels, a few ways to lead with the bit, how to rein the beast in and stop. He had a calm grace to him when he was on a horse, more natural up there than he’d ever seemed as a fireman. Sure, the guy had looked hot in his uniform, but he always seemed angry after a shift. Unsettled. Being out in the open countryside had done his lifelong friend a world of good.

The demonstration had apparently given Wes enough time to calm down, because once Reyes stopped talking, Wes piped up with “Mack, can you show us a proper dismount? For when we’re done riding.”

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