Heartbreak Cove (Sanctuary Island) (RE8) by Lily Everett Page A

was the one with nerves in her voice now, he noted. It was a little different having a flesh-and-blood person in the saddle, being responsible for that person’s safety. Especially when that person was a niece you barely knew and desperately wanted to take care of.
    Caitlin squirmed enough to make the saddle creak. Sam exchanged a look with Peony, who sighed patiently and planted her hooves in the sawdust covering the floor of the training ring. She was as steady a ride as Caitlin would ever find. Perfect for a beginner.
    Especially a beginner who was eager to skip right over the lessons on walking and trotting and head straight for a four-foot jump at a breakneck gallop.
    “I don’t need you to walk with me. I’m not a baby,” she insisted impatiently, kicking at Peony’s sides a little. Her small, sneaker-clad heels didn’t make much of an impression on Peony, who worked the bridle in her mouth as if she was bored.
    “I know you’re not, but it’s not up to us. Miss Jo says this is how we do it, and it’s her barn,” Andie explained. There was no trace of hurt or upset in her even voice, but when Sam snuck a peek over his shoulder, her fingers were white-knuckled on the back of the saddle.
    This wasn’t going to get easier until they dove in and gave it a try, so Sam clucked at Peony and led her forward in a slow, stately walk.
    Caitlin shrieked with glee, making Peony’s ears flick back and forth.
    “Don’t be too loud, remember what Miss Jo Ellen said,” Andie fretted. “Sam, are you sure you’ve got a good hold on her?”
    Sam checked his grip, about eight inches down the lead rope attached to the bottom of her halter, but there was no need. “Look. Peony is as steady and even-tempered as they come, but unpredictable accidents happen, even with the gentlest horses. I’d stake my reputation as a trainer on this mare’s temperament, but there are no guarantees in life.”
    “What if I want a guarantee?” Andie muttered.
    “Get used to disappointment.” Sam paced their little group around the perimeter of the ring, passing Jo and Taylor by the closed gate. Taylor gave him a grinning thumbs-up while Jo pointed to the four rails laid out parallel to one another in the center of the ring.
    For the first exercise, Sam was supposed to slacken his grip on the lead rope and allow Caitlin to take more control with the reins. With Andie constantly by her side for support, Caitlin had to guide Peony to step over the rails. It all sounded pretty simple, but Sam wasn’t surprised when Peony balked at the first rail.
    “She won’t go,” Caitlin said, frustration pitching her voice higher than usual. “Why won’t she go?”
    This, Sam knew how to do. Without dropping the lead rope, he twisted to assess the situation. “She’s confused because you’re sending her mixed signals. You’re squeezing with your legs and nudging with your heels like Jo told you, right?”
    Caitlin nodded, her pale brows a fierce line of concentration. Her whole body was tensed, wiry muscles standing out on her thin frame.
    “That’s good,” Sam told her. “But look at the way you’re grabbing onto those reins. They’re connected to the bit in Peony’s mouth. You’re pulling on those reins—pulling on her mouth—so hard that she actually wants to back up to relieve the pressure.”
    “What should I do?”
    “Relax a little, kid.” Sam gave Caitlin an easy smile that slid over and encompassed Andie without him intending it. “Remember this is supposed to be fun. I know how much you love horses and how much you want to learn to ride, but don’t let that make you nervous. Nerves are contagious and horses are pretty sensitive. She’ll pick up on your mood, so try to project confidence. Trust. Good things.”
    The rueful curl of Andie’s lips told Sam she’d realized that this speech was meant for her, too. Her grip on the saddle loosened at the same moment Caitlin dropped her hands down to her lap, easing up on the