The Riding Master (2 page)

“At least try and be open to new possibilities,” Rebecca shouted behind her.

Rayne ignored her friend and hurried to the shade of the barn, anxious to get back to Bob. But nearing the doors of the stable, something made her glance back at the new riding master. A warm sensation stirred in her belly as he purposefully strode around the ring, kicking up dirt as he went. Rayne shook off the notion of getting to know the man. At this point in her life she was convinced men were a waste of time, because in the end they never stayed when things got bad. Being “open to new possibilities,” as Rebecca had suggested, was a sure fire way to get hurt, and Rayne had vowed no man would ever hurt her again.

***

It was early evening when Rayne returned to the barn after taking Bob on a long trail ride across the hilly terrain surrounding Southland Stables. She was heading to her tack room with Bob following dutifully behind her when she saw a figure coming down the shed row wearing sunglasses.  

His swagger was the first thing that stood out in her mind. The sway of his hips exuded a ruthless overconfidence, but as her eyes traveled up from the curve of his blue jeans to his wide chest and thick, tanned arms, her temperature began to quickly climb. When she was within a few feet of him, his thin lips twisted into a devilish smile, almost a teasing smirk that Rayne found more offensive than alluring.

What an asshole
, she thought as he drew near.

She curiously studied the square curve of his jaw and his slightly bent nose. His hair was thick, wavy, almost black, and was in need of a good trim. His sunken cheekbones accentuated the tan on his face, while his high brow was etched with a few worry lines that complimented instead of detracted from his appearance. When he lowered his sunglasses, she noted the way his riveting gray eyes drank in her figure.

Rayne concluded that she could never be interested in such an obvious man. She was used to men ogling her buxom figure; her ex-husband used to do it all the time when they had first started dating. But what was exciting in her twenties, she now found repugnant in her thirties, making her wonder if all the real gentlemen had gone the way of the dodo bird.

“You’re Rayne Greer, right?” His voice was a lot smoother than when he had been shouting at his students. Tinged with a lustful, smoky quality that many women would have found alluring, Rayne felt her uneasiness with the man begin to gnaw at her.

Ignoring his engaging eyes, she gathered up Bob’s reins. “Yes, I’m Rayne Greer,” she flatly stated, deciding to play it cool.

He held out a thick hand to her. “Trent Newbury, the new riding master for Southland Stables. Rebecca Harmon told me about you. She said you were great with kids.”

When Bob rubbed his head against her back, eager to move on, Rayne turned away from his outstretched hand to the horse beside her. “Yes, I teach the under twelve and beginners groups for Rebecca on the weekends.” 

He lowered his hand to his side, unaffected by her snub. “Rebecca told me you showed a lot of potential.” He eyed the slender dark bay thoroughbred. “Is this your mount?”

“Yes, he’s a racetrack rescue Rebecca sold me a year ago.” Rayne rubbed Bob’s long neck. “Where’s your horse?”

“Don’t have one right now. I just sold my mare a few weeks back.” He took a step closer to her, making Bob give a short snort of surprise. “He’s high spirited,” Trent remarked, giving Bob’s neck a pat.

“Careful,” Rayne warned. “He doesn’t like strangers, especially men.”

Bob turned his head and tried to nip at Trent’s arm.

Trent chuckled. “Where did he learn that trick, from you?”

“No.” She shifted uneasily on her feet, uncomfortable with the close proximity of the man. “He was abused by jockeys and trainers when he raced on the track. No man could get near him when Rebecca first bought him. I started working with him in hopes of turning him into a schooling horse. After a time, I opted to buy him…or my ex bought him for me.” She noticed the way Bob seemed to calm as Trent’s powerful hand glided over his back.

“Ex?” Trent’s sharp eyes returned to Rayne. “You’re divorced.”

Rayne was surprised by the way his slight smile instantly warmed his unsettling features. All of his cocky assurance disappeared and he seemed almost genuine.

“You have the most intriguing eyes,” he murmured, staring at her. “There are flecks of gold amid the hazel in them.”

Rayne’s toes curled in her black riding boots. “I, ah….” She diverted her eyes to Bob. “I’m surprised he’s letting you get that close.”

“I have a way with horses. They find me…irresistible.”

So much for seeming genuine
, she reflected. “That must be a great comfort to you,” she sharply returned. “Knowing you have such sway over four-legged animals like that. Or were you talking about another kind of animal?”

His eyebrows went up. “Well, well, not only does your horse have spirit, his rider seems to as well.”

“Perhaps you are confusing spirit with sarcasm, Mr. Newbury.”

He grinned at her, folding his thick arms over his chest. “It’s Trent, and I think you’re wrong. You have to have a good bit of spirit and wit in order to be sarcastic. Telling people what you think of them takes a hell of a lot of guts, too.”

“Guts or stupidity? There’s a difference. One usually gets you into trouble, and the other is needed to get you out of it.”

Trent’s roaring laughter reverberated throughout the shed row. “Wow, you’re a little fireball, aren’t you?” He unfurled his arms. “Are you always like this? Or is this just for my benefit?”

Rayne’s patience with the arrogant man had reached a turning point and she longed for their encounter to end. “Nice meeting you, Trent. I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

Trent took a step in front of Rayne, blocking her retreat. “Part of my job as riding master is evaluating the skill of the instructors under me. I would like to take a look at you and your horse together in the ring.” He patted the horse’s thick neck once more, only this time Bob did not seem to mind. “Maybe even watch you take a few jumps with him,” he added.

An anxious flutter shook Rayne’s hands. “I, um, I’m still doing a lot of flatwork with him. He hasn’t really worked on jumps too much yet. ”

“How do you expect to be ready for the coming show season?”

She lowered her eyes to the stable floor, searching for the words to tell him in a polite way to go to hell.

“Or do you not want to ride for me? Maybe I make you nervous.” He leaned toward her. “I’m told I have that effect on people, too.”

Her eyes shot to him and the boastful grin that was spreading across his lips made Rayne want to rub his nose in the manure pile behind the barn. She decided to accept his offer, if anything to put him in his place and wipe the cocky smile from his face.

“How does seven tomorrow morning sound? I could meet you in the back jumping ring and show you what I have done with him so far, before my morning class.”

His smile fell. “You’re sure?”

She tugged on Bob’s reins. “Yeah, I’m positive.”

“Then I will see you at seven,” Trent agreed as his haughty smile returned.

Without another word she turned and led Bob down the shed row to her tack room. Walking along, she could almost feel the aggravating man’s eyes boring into her back. Realizing what she had done, she chastised herself for letting Trent Newbury get the better of her.

At her red tack room door, she worked the combination lock as Bob stood calmly behind her, unflustered by any of the events that had just transpired. In a way, Rayne envied her horse’s ability to remain placid in the face of certain disaster. That was the bliss of ignorance as she saw it. Bob did not comprehend the danger of crossing paths with the brash Trent Newbury again. But Rayne knew better, and the rush of heat that had overtaken her when the man had first approached worried her immensely. Such feelings were dangerous for any woman.

Her ex-husband had elicited the same reaction when they had first met. He had also been playful and seductive, but as Foster Greer worked his way into her life, her feelings for him had swept her goals and dreams aside. Rayne had sworn after her divorce never to let any man wield that kind of control over her again. Reason enough to stay away from Trent Newbury. But she feared that the advice her head was asserting, her body might not be willing to heed. Swallowing back her self-recriminations, she bolstered those protective walls around her heart. No one was going to get in without a fight, and one thing Rayne had always been was a fighter.

Chapter 2

The prospect of dealing with Trent had Rayne tossing and turning the entire night. Visions of how the beguiling man would tear her and Bob apart had kept Rayne from getting any sleep. When she finally rose from bed, her body and mind rebelled with exhaustion.

As she saddled Bob for their early morning meeting, a loud, long yawn escaped her lips, making the horse give her a questioning gaze with his soulful brown eyes.

“What? You’ve never had a restless night?”

Bob turned away as if amused with her explanation.

After checking his girth strap for the fourth time, Rayne figured she had stalled long enough and it was time to head to the jumping ring. Leading Bob from the barn, she mumbled to herself, stiffening her resolve to ignore anything Trent had to say.

“He’s an arrogant fool. Just don’t listen to a word he says and do exactly what you feel is right.”

Bob’s ears darted back and forth as he walked beside her, intently listening to her advice.

“We’re good and getting better every day no matter what he says, right?” she imparted to Bob, but the horse just clopped along, swishing his long black tail.

Outside in the golden rays of the early morning sun, Rayne mounted Bob’s back and secured the strap on her dark gray riding helmet. Tucking her black riding boots into the stirrups, she took up the slack in the leather reins and guided the horse to the shelled-path behind the barn.

As she rode to the jumping ring, she breathed in the hint of fall in the air and felt comforted that the retreating heat of summer meant she could spend more time riding Bob. Rayne turned to the dense line of trees and greenery that marked the edge of the stables and the beginning of the rolling miles of trails. She loved taking in the change of seasons on those wide trails. Escaping on her horse into the breathtaking foliage always invigorated Rayne. But her exuberance was short-lived when she remembered that this was going to be her first fall without Foster.

The image of the attractive older man with thick gray hair, penetrating blue eyes, and a smile that turned every woman’s head still filled her with regret. She found it inconceivable that at thirty-one she had been ousted from her comfortable Highland Park mansion by a bony, blonde girl of twenty-two.

“Egotistical, self-important, cheating….” Her ex was forgotten when she spotted Trent leaning against the white railing of the ring. He had his muscular arms folded over his dark blue T-shirt, while his magnetic eyes were zeroed in on her.

She subdued a sudden swirl of nerves by reminding herself that this was just a casual exhibit of skills for a man who was technically her boss. When Bob arrived at the white entrance gate, Trent pushed away from the railing and walked up to the horse. 

“Good morning,” he greeted, sounding chipper.

His happy mood instantly irked Rayne, who had to stifle yet another yawn.

“I want to start out by doing some basic flatwork, warm him up a bit, and then see how he does over some high jumps. Let’s see what he’s got.” Trent patted the horse’s round rump, making Bob turn and give the man a “what was that for” glance.

Rayne glared down at him. “I know what he’s got.”

Trent’s lips lifted into a sheepish smile. “But I don’t. I want to see him in action.” He pointed to the ring entrance.

“I’m confused,” Rayne said, holding Bob back. “Are you here to evaluate me or my horse?”

“Both. You are your horse and he is a reflection of you, and all that you have taught him.” He moved toward the gate. “He will give me a good idea of how you work with your students,” he added over his shoulder.

“If I had known this was going to be a test….” She gently encouraged Bob forward.

“You would have what…?” He halted at the gate. “Or perhaps you’re afraid if I don’t like what I see, I’ll fire you.”

“Rebecca hired me, not you,” she lashed out as she entered the ring on Bob.

“And Rebecca’s the one who hired me to be the riding master around here…which means if I don’t like what I see, I can fire you.”

She drew back on the reins, stopping Bob just inside the gate. “Riding master means you supervise, not hire and fire. And why are you being such an ass about this?”

“I’m not the one coming to the ring with a chip on my shoulder. As soon as you rode up, I could tell you were going to give me trouble by the way you slouched in your saddle.”

She gawked at him while sitting up in her saddle. “Christ, I haven’t even gotten in the ring and you’re already evaluating me.”

“I’m always evaluating you, bear that in mind.” He waved his hand to the ring. “Take him to the rail and start with a slow, sitting trot. Tighten up your legs against the saddle and straighten your back. It will help your seat. You’re all over the place in that saddle.”