Wild About the Wrangler by Vicki Lewis Thompson Page B

everything.”
    â€œRight.” She put her weight on his linked fingers and, despite her concern about being clumsy, she swung up into the saddle as if she’d been doing it forever.
    The sound of her cute little tush dropping into the saddle was music to his ears. He glanced up and she was looking down at him from her new perch. Her color was high and her eyes were bright. She was so beautiful he forgot to breathe.
    â€œI’m on,” she murmured, as if talking too loud would disturb the perfection of the moment.
    He kept his voice down, too. Hushed tones seemed to fit the mood. “How’s it feel?”
    â€œScary. But exhilarating, too.” She adjusted her feet in the stirrups. “I’m not as far away from the ground as I remembered.”
    â€œYou were very small.” Anxiety curled in his gut whenever he thought of her riding out into the night all by herself.
    â€œThe saddle and the stirrups help. Sliding around on Prince’s back was terrifying. I only had his mane to hold on to and I . . . I probably jerked some of the hair out.” She winced. “I know I did. I had a handful of horse hair when I landed. I remember that now.”
    â€œI could lead you around if you want to—”
    â€œNot today. Today I’ll just sit here and get used to it.”
    â€œAnd have your picture taken.”
    â€œOh, yeah. I forgot.”
    â€œStill want me to do that?”
    â€œYes. I have to show Georgie.”
    He moved back a few feet and pulled out her phone. Usually when he worked with first-time riders he had to remind them to sit up straight. Apparently he wouldn’t have to remind Anastasia. Pride, and maybe a lingering touch of fear, kept her back straight as a lodge pole pine.
    Her wide smile of accomplishment tinged with panic tugged at his heart. He’d never helped someone overcome a handicap, and that’s what her fear had become. Being a part of her struggle was an honor.
    He snapped several pictures from different angles. You could never have enough of a good thing.
    â€œDone?”
    â€œLet me check them out.” He scrolled through the pictures, knowing they were fine but also wanting a chance to send one to his cell. He didn’t ask her if he could have one. He just did it without worrying about why.
    After he’d sent it over, he glanced up. “Want to take a look?”
    â€œNo, I want to get down. Adrenaline rush. Feeling a little wobbly.”
    He could hear it in her voice. The party was over for today. “Stay right there. I’ll help you.” He tucked her phone away and walked over. The last thing she needed was to take a tumble climbing off the horse because she wasn’t steady on her pins.
    â€œI feel silly. I was fine a minute ago, and now I’m shaking all over.”
    â€œProbably a combination of adrenaline and lack of food.”
    She chuckled softly. “And lack of sleep.”
    â€œThat, too. Grab onto the horn and slide your right foot out of the stirrup.”
    â€œOkay.” She white-knuckled the saddle horn. “What next?”
    He assessed the situation. She wasn’t kidding about being shaky. He could see her trembling and he didn’t want to take any chances. Tomorrow she could dismount on her own.
    â€œSlide your left foot out, too. I’m going to lift you down.” Reaching up, he grasped her around the waist.
    â€œMac, I can—”
    â€œTomorrow you can. Now let go of the horn.”
    â€œI feel like such a baby.” But she put both hands on his shoulders.
    â€œYou’re not a baby.” She sure as hell was a woman, though. The second he’d touched her, he’d been forcefully reminded of that. She was so warm.
    The dismount wasn’t smooth, but it would have been a lot worse without him holding on to her. She hadn’t taken her right foot completely out of the stirrup, so she got hung up as she tried to lift her