The Riding Master (7 page)

“There she is, right on time as usual,” an attractive blonde greeted from a round table in the middle of the employee break room. She was wearing white scrubs with pink teddy bears embossed on her top. Her wavy blonde hair was mashed into a messy ponytail, and her delicate, almost childlike features were scrunched into a condescending scowl. In her hands was a paperback book with a bare-chested man on the cover holding a scantily clad woman in his arms.

“Hey, Lindsey. Which one is that?” Rayne went to a short refrigerator set into a wall of white cabinets.

“
Bound By Love.
” Lindsey held up the book. “Sex and a whole lot more by my favorite author, Monique Delome.”

“You and your romance books.” Rayne’s eyes scanned a wall covered with mandatory employee posters from OSHA touting the benefits of washing hands, proper techniques for the disposal of blood products, and a few other regulations that everyone usually ignored.

“Hey, don’t knock romance books.” Lindsey flourished the book in her hand. “The only sex I get is in these books.” She flipped the book down on the faux wood table. “See what ten years of marriage has driven me to?”

Rayne placed her backpack on the white Formica countertop next to the refrigerator and unzipped the top. “You’re lucky to have Casey. He’s a great guy.”

“I know.” Lindsey picked up the mug of coffee on the table before her. “But I would be happy to rent him out to you for a nominal fee.”

Rayne chuckled and placed her brown bag lunch inside the refrigerator. She then went to a desktop computer in the corner and typed in her employee ID code.

“What did you do this weekend?” Lindsey inquired. “No, wait. Let me guess. You rode that horse of yours.”

After Rayne finished clocking in, she turned back to the waiflike blonde with the alluring blue eyes. “I also taught my lessons.”

“Wow.” Lindsey plunked her coffee mug down on the table. “Rayne, I love you to death, you know that, but you have got to start having some fun.”

Rayne stepped over to the coffeemaker set up on a silver cart next to the computer. “I have fun. I ride.”

“You know what I’m talking about. The kind of fun you have with a member of the opposite sex of our species.”

Rayne snatched up white mug from the cart. “What is it with everyone wanting to set me up? First, Rebecca at the barn wanted to hook me up with the new riding master, and now you—”

“What new riding master?” Lindsey interrupted.

Rayne filled her mug with coffee. “His name is Trent Newbury, and Rebecca hired him to oversee all the instructors at the stables.”

“Cute?”

Rayne glowered at her friend. “Obnoxious.”

Lindsey sat back in her green plastic chair, dissecting Rayne’s expression. “You like this guy. You wouldn’t have noticed if he was obnoxious or even a serial killer if you weren’t interested.”

Rayne glanced down at her black coffee. “Actually, we had dinner last night. That’s how I know he’s obnoxious.”

Lindsey jumped from her chair. “You had dinner with him?” She went to Rayne’s side and nudged her back to the table. “Sit.” She pulled out a green chair for her. “I want details.”

“There are no details to tell.” Rayne sat down and put her coffee on the table. “We went to dinner at this sushi place. He wanted to order eel, can you believe that? So we had this—”

“Rayne, I could care less about what you ate. What happened on the date? Did he kiss you, or was there more to it than that? Please tell me there was more to it.”

“Lindsey, you’ve been reading way too many romance novels. It was nothing like what you’re implying. This was a dinner to talk about…the stables, you know, business.” A warm flush cascaded through Rayne as she remember Trent’s kiss.

“Bullshit!” Lindsey pointed at Rayne’s face. “You’re red, and you only get red when you’re really embarrassed about something. And knowing you, the only thing that would get you that way is sex. So spill it. What happened?”

Rayne fingered the rim of her mug, wanting desperately to keep what happened with Trent private, but then again also needing a friend to help sort out her tangle of emotions.

“Lindsey, how much…I mean, have you ever…?” She struggled to find the right words.

Lindsey waited patiently with her arms folded over her chest, tapping her white tennis shoe on the dull gray linoleum floor.

“Aw, hell…he kissed me,” Rayne finally blurted out. “There, satisfied?”

Lindsey tossed up her hand. “That’s it?”

Rayne raised her coffee. “Trust me, it was enough.”

Lindsey was quiet for several agonizing seconds. Rayne was about to explode with curiosity when she finally spoke up.

“What kind of kiss?”

“Kind of kiss?” Rayne lowered her mug, not comprehending the question. “It was a kiss, Lindsey.”

“There are all kinds of kisses, Rayne. Friendly, passionate, family kisses, and then there are—”

“It was passionate, all right?” Rayne flopped back in her seat   

One side of Lindsey’s tiny pink mouth rose ever so slightly. “That good, huh?”

Rayne slowly nodded her head. “I’ve never been kissed like that. Even after eight years of marriage, I—”

“Foster Greer was a selfish old man more interested in having a trophy wife than keeping you happy,” Lindsey cut in.

“But I don’t think Trent can make me happy, either, Lindsey. He’s technically my boss at the stables.”

“Stop,” Lindsey cried out, raising her hand. “You’re making excuses like you always do when you’re afraid.”

“I’m not afraid,” Rayne balked.

Lindsey looked her friend over, sporting a dubious frown. “Rayne, by the expression on your face, you’re terrified that this guy could be someone special.”

“He’s not special. He’s just like all the rest,” Rayne protested with a smirk.

“What did his kiss tell you?” Lindsey had a seat next to her at the table. “You can tell a lot about a man from a kiss; his intentions, his desires, and his sincerity. If he really wants you—and I’m not talking about sex—if he wants all of you, you can tell by his kiss. That’s how I knew my Casey was the one for me.”

Rayne mulled over her words. “His kiss was…it really took me by surprise. It was so…intense.” Rayne shook her head. “Everything about the guy is intense.”

Lindsey sat back in her chair, grinning. “Then you need to pursue this.”

“I think that is a mistake.”

“So what? Hell of a fun way to make a mistake if you ask me.” Retrieving her book, Lindsey shrugged. “Besides, there are no mistakes in dating. Every man you’re with teaches you more about what you want and don’t want in a guy.”

“I’d hoped I was done with dating after I married Foster.”

“Get to know the man, Rayne.” Lindsey closed her book, tucking it under her arm. “You’re too pretty and too smart to be alone.” She stood from her chair and collected her coffee mug. “Time for me to get out there and tackle Dr. Moffet’s bad breath.”

“Didn’t you buy him a jar of breath mints?” Rayne wrapped her hands about her white mug.

“I did.” Lindsey left her mug in the sink. “But instead of using them, he gave them to the secretaries in reception.”

“Why not just tell him he has bad breath?”

“You know how old man Moffett is…I have to be careful so I keep my job.” Lindsey went to the break room entrance. “I’ll never find another nursing job that pays as well as this one.” She opened the door. “Keep me posted on the guy from your barn. You know how much I love a juicy romance.” She winked at Rayne and then darted into the hall.

Rayne took two quick sips of her coffee, eager to feel the rush of caffeine. As the warm liquid eased down her throat, she recalled Trent’s conversation over the phone with her earlier that morning. Perhaps Lindsey was right; she needed to give the assertive man a chance. She peered into her black coffee and the same old trepidation about the opposite sex returned to her gut. She had never been an avid dater before her husband, and after the pain of her divorce, her dating nerves were shot. But now another opportunity for happiness was before her, and Rayne only prayed she could muster the courage to put the past behind her and try again with the charismatic riding master.

Chapter 5

A warm evening breeze greeted Rayne as she stepped from her garage and progressed across the short stone-covered path to her back door. The blue jeans she had changed into after work reeked of Bob. Her black riding boots were dusty, and her frizzy blonde hair was matted down by the riding helmet she had worn while working Bob over some fences.

As she fumbled with the lock on her back door, her cell phone ringtone sounded. Quickly opening the door, she rummaged through the work clothes in her backpack for her phone. While punching the alarm code into her keypad just inside her back door, Frank came trotting up to her. Barking with exuberance at her return, she was trying to calm him down when she answered the call from an unknown number.

“Hello?”

“Where are you?” a smooth voice demanded.

She sighed as she heard his velvety tone. “Hi, Trent.” She turned to Frank. “Hush up.”

“Was that my friend, Frank, barking?”

“Yeah, he gets excited when I get home.” She patted Frank’s head.

“You’re just getting home from work? It’s almost seven, Rayne.”

“I went to the stables after work to exercise Bob. Why are you calling me?” She shut her back door.

“I just wanted to make sure you got home safely.”

“I’m fine.” She set the deadbolt on her door. “Just like I was fine coming home late from the stables before I met you.”

“But that was before I met that overgrown floor mop that you have for protection.”

She stepped around Frank and into her kitchen. “I also have an alarm system to back up the floor mop.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better, Rayne.”

She heaved her backpack onto the beige granite breakfast bar. “Well, it’s the best I can do.”

“Have you ever considered buying a gun?”

Rayne went to her refrigerator. “Only if I get to use it on you.”

Trent’s deep chuckle made her insides quiver. Removing a carton of orange juice from the refrigerator, she took a few quick sips.

“Now what are you doing?” His voice was strained with curiosity.

She thumped the carton down on the kitchen countertop. “What is it with you and questions?”

“I just want to know how you spend your time when you’re not working.”

“Why?” she challenged, sounding aggravated.

“Rayne, I’m making an effort here. The least you could do is talk to me.”

She silently berated her shortness with the man. If she wanted to make a go of it with him, Rayne knew she needed to open up. “What do you want to know, Trent?”

“How do you spend your evenings at home?”

Rayne spied the open living room that connected to her kitchen and tried to think of something interesting to say. “Sometimes I watch television, other nights I go online, and three nights a week I do yoga.”

“Yoga?” The surprise in his voice made her smile.

“Yes, yoga. It’s good for the joints, and helps to condition me for riding. You should try it.”

“I prefer running five miles a day.”

She pictured his toned and tanned body and her smile got a lot bigger. “Yeah, I can see that is working out just fine for you.”

“So glad you noticed.” The husky quality in his voice soothed her.

But when the conversation stalled, Rayne searched in vain for something to say, reviving her anxiety. “Well, I should go,” she mumbled.

“No, don’t go,” Trent seductively begged through the phone speaker. “Talk to me, Rayne. Tell me about your job.”

“Trent, I don’t understand why you want to—”

“Just talk to me.”

She took a moment thinking of something to tell him. “My job. Okay. I work as a lab technician for this group of physicians in Lewisville. I’ve been there for about a year and I really like it.”

“That’s good.” Trent’s silky voice skipped about her kitchen. “Go on.”

Rayne did go on. She took a seat on a wooden stool by her kitchen breakfast bar and began to tell Trent about her job and the people she worked with. Rayne explained what she did in her small lab, the kinds of tests she ran, and how she liked working with the staff there. She even told him about Lindsey.

Rayne was still in her dirty jeans and boots, and Frank was lying patiently at the foot of her stool when she caught sight of the clock on her microwave oven.

“Oh, my God. It’s after eight. I’ve been talking to you for over an hour.” She ran her hand over her flushed face. “Why didn’t you tell me to stop?”

“I like listening to you. You open up to me over the phone, unlike when you’re alone with me. You always seem so nervous.”

“I do not,” she argued.

“Afraid it’s true, Rayne.”

She heard a muffled rustling in the background. “What’s that?”

“Paperwork. I’m still sitting at my desk.”