A Real Cowboy Knows How to Kiss (9 page)

BOOK: A Real Cowboy Knows How to Kiss
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She felt like she was free-falling into an abyss, like a great black cloud was crushing her soul. She was desperate, and a little terrified that she couldn't seem to pull herself out of it. Maybe a horse ride was what she needed. Being out in nature, breathing in the fresh air, and feeling the wind on her face would give her clarity. She knew there had to be an answer as to how to reclaim herself, if she could just find it.

Steen grabbed his shirt and tugged it over his head. "I know you're free, because you had the rest of the day booked for this ranch. So, let's go. You need it. I can tell." He grinned, flashing her that old-school boyish grin that had made all the girls go weak. "Besides, this might be your only chance to see how hot my ass looks in chaps. It's worth it."

She burst out laughing then, a welcome relief from all the tension that had been building. "You have old-man saggy butt now," she retorted. "What woman wants to see that?"

"You do." He winked at her over his shoulder as he swaggered down the aisle, giving her a very good look at a rear end that looked every bit delicious as it had in high school. His jeans set low on his hips, owning his body with just the right amount of attitude.

She so should run for the hills, or at least try to get Faith to limp her way down the road and back to the clinic. But her feet wouldn't move. She didn't want to be the responsible, dignified Erin Chambers anymore. She wanted to be, for one day, the relaxed, devil-may-care woman who was daring enough to ride off into the sunset with a sexy cowboy who knew how to kiss.

Steen paused at the doorway to the tack room, looking back at her as he tipped his cowboy hat back, giving her a playful look that made her want to laugh. "You coming, Chambers?"

She grinned and made her decision. "Yes, I am. I definitely am."

Maybe it would be a mistake.

But maybe, just maybe, it would turn out to be the right choice.

She was tired of being afraid to try.

Fail or not, she was doing it. And as she closed her medical kit, she couldn't keep the grin off her face. Either way, it was going to be fun, and fun was something that she hadn't experienced in a long time…especially with a man who kissed like he was pure sin itself.

Chapter 8

By the time Steen led his horse outside to mount up, he realized that he'd been a stupid, lust-crazed idiot to suggest a ride with Erin. Not because heading off into the hills with her was a bad idea. Nope, he was still on board with that. But getting onto a horse? Shit. It had been completely natural for him to suggest a ride at the time. The implications hadn't even occurred to him…but they were now…

He wasn't sure he could do it.

Erin was already mounted, sitting comfortably on a mare named Winter Storm that he'd recalled Chase mentioning was mellow enough even for him. He, however, was holding the reins of a skinny, wild-eyed horse named Rock, which he'd noticed his first day. Rock was a little thin, a lot hostile, and plenty scarred up, making Steen pretty sure that Chase had rescued it from somewhere. Steen had always been interested in the horses that had come from messed up places, and he'd been having some good chats with the animal. When he'd decided to take Erin out on a ride, his instinct had been to head right to Rock's stall to give the horse a chance for a little freedom.

But now, as he eyed the skittish animal, he realized he should have remembered he wasn't the same person he'd been when he'd ridden the rebels. Back then, he'd been a reckless teenager with a body that could absorb any hit. Today, he was a man who knew exactly how far he could fall.

Rock's hooves were dug into the dirt, and he was eyeballing Steen as if he was going to test him every inch of the ride.

"What's wrong?" Erin asked, too damned perceptively.

"Nothing." For a brief moment, Steen contemplated calling off the ride, but when he glanced over at Erin and saw the excitement gleaming in her eyes, he knew he'd do whatever it took to keep that light fueled. He'd made a promise to help her heal, and he wasn't going to fail within the first ten minutes.

But as he put his foot in the stirrup, his back began to ache, the age-old ache that never left. Swearing, he jerked his boot out and leaned on the saddle, his hands braced on the leather as Rock swung his head around to watch him warily.

"Steen? Is it your side?"

He gritted his jaw. "No."

"What's wrong?"

Frustration roiled over him, anger that he'd set himself up for Erin to see him like this. "I broke my back a few years ago," he snapped out, unable to keep the edge out of his voice. The memories were too vivid, dredging up the fear that had almost destroyed him. "I'm not sure it's a good call for me to ride. Rock's a little skittish." There. He'd said it. What a fucking pansy he was.

But in truth, he'd never forget what it had felt like to wake up after his motocross accident. He'd been battered as hell, but the worst moment of his life had been when he'd tried to move his legs, and nothing had happened. For two hellacious weeks, he'd been paralyzed from the waist down, and his doctors had told him he needed to prepare himself for the reality that he might never walk again.

Jesus. That day…those weeks…the fear had been insurmountable. His entire life had been built around physical activities. Every moment that anyone had ever looked at him as if he was worth something had come from sports: calf-roping, football, baseball, and then, finally motocross, when football had no longer been an option after his knee had blown out.

He'd been absolutely devastated the day he'd shattered his knee and learned that he'd never play football again. His career had ended less than two days before the NFL draft, in which he'd been highly touted to be one of the top picks and destined for a legit career as a pro ball player. He'd given every last breath in his body to football, knowing it was his best chance to break the cycle of the life he'd been born into, and to lose that ticket had been
crushing
. That devastation, however, had been nothing compared to the moment when he'd thought he would be paralyzed for the rest of his life. He'd felt like his world had just ended, and it had been a brutal road back to get his body working again.

Yeah, in the end, he'd proved the doctors wrong. They'd been impressed as hell, and said he wasn't at risk of becoming paralyzed again, any more than anyone else. What did they know? They'd been wrong about his ability to recover, right? What if they were wrong about his vulnerability, and he took a chance that wound up with him in a wheelchair forever? They weren't the ones who'd have to live with it if they were wrong. He couldn't take that chance again. Ever since that accident, he'd been living on edge, so careful not to ever take that chance again.

It hadn't even occurred to him ten minutes ago that horses would put him at risk…until he'd put his foot in the stirrup and thought about how many times he'd fallen off over his life. Would the wrong kind of fall do him in?
Jesus.
He closed his eyes, and fought off the rush of fear.

Erin didn't give him a break. "But you have such a way with horses. Just talk to it like you used to do. He'll be on your side."

He looked over at her, surprised by her comment. "Talk to them? How do you know I used to talk to them?"

Her cheeks turned red, and she shrugged. "One time, I was out at the ranch helping the vet. You were in the corral with a wild pony that people were calling Psycho. Everyone was watching, so I came over. He was totally freaked out and panicking, until you walked over to him and started to talk. You didn't do anything else. You just stood there and talked. His head came down, his body relaxed, and he turned his head to listen to you. After a few minutes, he walked over to you and pressed his head to your chest. It was absolutely incredible. I've never seen anything like that in my life, and I've worked with a lot of horses. Everyone said you had a gift that day, and I saw it too. You remember that day?"

He was shocked by her story. Now that she mentioned it, he did remember that horse. His real name had been something like Texas Hellion, but Psycho had been written on his halter when he'd shown up at the ranch, literally rescued from the proverbial glue factory by Old Skip, who felt it was his duty to rescue at least one hopeless, helpless horse per month. Psycho had gotten the golden ticket of a second chance that month, but by the time Steen had arrived, even Old Skip had given up on him. The trailer had been on its way to the ranch to take him away from his last hope…until Steen had connected with him. He'd saved that horse, and it had been the best damned feeling. He'd quit the horse scene a couple months after that, but he'd never forget Psycho.

Rock turned his head, studying Steen.

Steen studied him back, inspecting the animal's dark brown eyes. There was fear in there, but also curiosity, which was a good sign. As he and Rock inspected each other, he felt his own instincts taking over, rapidly assessing the animal, trying to ascertain what he would respond to.

"Talk to him," Erin suggested. "Do that thing you do."

"That thing I do?" He rolled his eyes at her vague, irreverent word choice to describe the depth of his connection with horses, but at the same time, her easygoing tone made him relax. He could talk to Rock. That was easy. It was what he did. He bent his head toward Rock's. The horse lowered his head, so that his cheek was pressed against Steen's. Steen grinned when he felt the horse's warm breath against his face. Shit, it had been a long time. "See, here's the thing, big guy," he said softly, too softly for Erin to hear. "I'm trying to impress a girl, but if I get paralyzed again, I'll be pissed as hell. I can't do that, buddy." Just the thought of it made a cold sweat break out across his brow.

Rock nudged his cheek, and blew on him again.

Sweat began to trickle down Steen's back, and he bent his head closer to the horse. "You with me?" he asked softly, using the same tone he'd used so many times before. "I need to know." He stared into the horse's eyes, and the animal didn't look away. There was a scar over his right eye, one that looked like it had taken a lot of stitches to heal. "You almost lose your eye, buddy?" Steen traced his fingers over the scar, and the horse's eyes closed slightly as he went still, letting Steen touch him.

Something inside Steen shifted, and he suddenly didn't want to be the guy who was grounded anymore. He didn't want to live in fear or regret, like he had for so long. He wanted to be in that saddle. He wanted to ride next to Erin and be the guy she needed for the next ten days. He wanted to be the man who saved her, and he wasn't going to do it living in terror of the shadows that had haunted him for so long.

He took a deep breath, shaking the tension out of his shoulders. "Okay, let's do this." He jammed his foot into the stirrup, grabbed the saddle, and then...paused.

Was he really going to do this?

He felt Erin watching him, and determination surged through him. Yeah, he was going to do this. What did he have to lose? If he got paralyzed, at least he'd know he'd fought to live instead of skulking in fear. He'd rather live for an hour with Erin by his side, than spend another thirty years existing in the half-life he'd inhabited for so long. So, yeah. He was doing this. With grim determination, he swung his leg over Rock's back, and settled into the saddle for the first time in years.

Rock tensed, and Steen instinctively leaned forward to stroke the animal's neck, talking under his breath. It took several minutes, but Rock's ribs finally expanded with a deep, shuddering sigh, and Steen knew that the trust had begun. He looked over at Erin, surprised to find himself wanting to grin. "Ready?"

She smiled back, her eyes so warm that something inside him slipped into place. He realized suddenly that she understood exactly how difficult it had been for him to get on that horse. She said nothing, giving him his privacy, but she
knew.
She always knew. She was the one person in the world who always saw through his shit to the real person beneath…and she was also the one who had always stood by him.

No wonder he'd been willing to risk paralysis for the chance to help her.

"You bet I'm ready," she said cheerfully. "Which way?"

Steen pointed toward the north cliffs as Rock shifted beneath him, dancing to the left with a few quick sidesteps. Steen instinctively moved with him, his body relaxed as he shifted his weight to keep himself perfectly balanced on the horse. So easy, so natural. He couldn't believe he'd been so afraid to try. "Lead the way, Doc."

Erin flashed him a grin, and swung Stormy's head toward the far pasture. She nudged the mare into a gentle lope, and Steen quickly caught up to her. It was surreal to feel the strength of the animal beneath him again, to be a part of such physical talent. He hadn't felt that kind of strength in a long time, not from himself or anything in his life. Riding the motocross bikes had been a rush, but that had involved a machine, not an athlete. With Rock, he could feel the flexing of muscles, the rush of adrenaline, and the sheer power that only a living being could create. God, he'd missed this.
He'd missed this.

He took a deep breath, letting the clean air fill his lungs as Erin laughed with delight. "This is amazing," she called out to him. "I forgot what it was like to be riding instead of operating!"

"Want to go faster?" The thrill of the ride was building, that same rush that had galvanized him as a youth when he'd been calf roping, and then later when he'd tried the more socially and financially lucrative football field. He wanted to feel the wind on his face, and feel the power of the living creature beneath him.

"Yes!" She urged her horse onward, and the duo suddenly shot ahead. Stormy's neck stretched out as she lengthened her stride, and Steen grinned as Erin's laughter floated over the wind at him.

"Come on, boy," Steen said softly to his horse, gently urging him forward. After a moment of hesitation, Rock began to extend his legs, reaching farther and farther with each step, as if he, too, had forgotten what it felt like to be free. All hesitation dissipated as Steen and Rock raced across the fields. This was who he was. This was how life was supposed to be lived. It felt incredible, and he was suddenly so glad that he was out there. He never would have dared get on a horse if it hadn't been for Erin, and he was damned glad he had.

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