Ali had four missed calls and three increasingly disapproving voice mails from her mother by the time she checked her phone. In spite of the two-hour time difference, Grace answered her return call after one ring. Her father was blissfully snoring in the background. "Oh, thank heavens, darling. Why on earth haven't you been picking up?"
She stared at the starry sky through the car's window as it made its way back to the lodge. "Sorry, Mom. I was busy."
The line was momentarily silent before Grace spoke again. "What could they have you doing at that place this late at night?"
"I wasn't at Pebble Creek," she mumbled, knowing her mother would see through a lie.
Grace scoffed. "Well, where were you?"
Ali held back the first not-so-suitable answer that came to mind. She was nearly thirty years old and half a dozen states away, yet the woman still expected an answer. "Out," she said.
"With who?" Her mother's pitch elevated two levels with curiosity.
She sidestepped. "Why did you call, Mom? Is everything okay?" she asked, instead.
"Oh, everything's fine." Grace could switch gears faster than a race car driver. "Marco's going to be shooting at Fashion Week in Paris this year, isn't that wonderful?"
Ali rolled her eyes. Of course her mother would call just to gush about her favorite child. What she always failed to mention was how her younger brother went through women faster than a gallon of milk, or how he'd lost his savings—twice—through questionable deals recommended by not-so-upright friends.
After dutifully hearing her mother out as she described whose connections led to which designer inviting Marco along, Ali ended the conversation, glad at least that the attention was off her.
Monday couldn't come fast enough, and she wondered how and when she'd get to meet up with Hank again. He usually wasn't around before noon, so she didn't expect to see him at least until after her next therapy session. So when she entered the stables the next day looking for Dr. Sacher and found the handsome cowboy going in and out of the stalls busily taking care of the horses, she was pleasantly surprised.
With his sleeves rolled up and jeans covered in hay dust, he distributed a wheelbarrow full of feed among the animals, pausing long enough to show them some individual attention. Although he had kept his word to stay discreet, she almost melted into a gooey puddle when he flashed her a friendly smile while giving a colt named Thunder a good scratching behind the ear.
After her meeting with Dr. Sacher on Friday, when the psychiatrist practically tricked her into admitting that she was a perfectionist, Ali was once again reluctant to share more about herself in therapy. But since their first session in the paddock had also ended disastrously, Ali wasn't sure whether Dr. Sacher's saddling a horse was going to turn out better than before. The woman slipped the final strap through its buckle and yanked it into place when Ali joined her, but as they began to lead the animal outside, a stall door creaked open.
"Hey, Doc," a congenial but authoritative voice called out. "Can I borrow Ali for a sec?"
"Sure, Hank." The therapist nodded. "I'll be out in the paddock when you're done."
He waited until the psychiatrist led the horse out before turning to Ali. "I wanted to talk to you."
"Okay," she whispered, feeling her heartbeat accelerate.
He tipped his hat back and scratched his forehead. "Um . . . about last night . . ."
Oh, god. He was going to say it was all a mistake and they should end things before they got any further. He'd probably realized she was more trouble than she was worth and regretted getting involved with her. She was nothing like him and would be going back to New York in a few weeks anyway, so why would he want to waste time on her now?
The frantic thoughts rushed through Ali's head in the fraction of a second it took for Hank to pause for breath. She waited for him to let her down easy, but instead of avoiding her eyes or fidgeting nervously as she expected, he looked at her and grinned.
"I don't know about you, but I feel like I didn't leave you with the best ending to last night." He subtly licked his lips and glanced down at hers. "There were some things I needed to think over first, but now I'm pretty sure I could do better given the chance."
Ali's eyes flew open as she realized what he was talking about. "You . . . you want a do-over?" she stammered, recalling their awkward farewell.
"I guess I do. Is that okay?" he asked, tilting his head playfully.
"Here?" She looked toward the open barn doors. Although they were out of sight, the faint sounds of other guests' voices came from nearby. Hank understood her meaning. Turning around and opening the nearest stall door, he motioned for her to follow.
A large black stallion lifted his head and snorted at the unexpected company. Ali stayed close to the wall separating the horse's space from the next one over, but Hank stepped forward to greet the animal. Holding its chin in one hand and stroking its nose with another, he whispered reassuring words until the horse returned to scavenging for stray oats in the hay.
With a confident smile, he returned to Ali. Gazing into her eyes, he cupped her face in his hands and leaned in. Although she wanted nothing more than what was about to happen, she couldn't help but scrunch her nose.
"What's wrong?" He pulled back.
"I'm so sorry, but you were just petting him and now you're touching my face—" she began, but the superficiality of the complaint made her blush. She'd been around horses all her life and now she was getting squeamish about getting a little horsey smell on her?
"Oh, man." He dropped his hands and began looking around. Not finding whatever he was looking for, he drew his shirtsleeve over his palm and began gently scrubbing her cheek. "You're right. That was so stupid."
Ali smiled; he was extra cute when he was being so attentive. She allowed him to go on for a few more seconds, watching his stoic expression as he fussed over her.
"It's fine," she reassured him before taking his hands in hers and placing them on her hips. He raised his brows at the move, but waited for her to continue. In response, Ali tilted her head to the side and offered herself to him.
Hank didn't need any more encouragement, lowering his mouth onto the soft skin at the base of her neck. Taking his time to first plant gentle kisses, he slowly swept his tongue up her carotid artery where his warm lips eventually found her earlobe.
"Hmm," she murmured in satisfaction as he nibbled the tender flesh, his breath echoing in her ear.
His hands also didn't stay idle, as one drew her closer while the other moved up her shirt.
Ali giggled as his fingers tickled her breast, her movement enticing Hank to move his lips onto hers. He tasted of coffee and mint, the flavors mixing between them.
As they continued to kiss, she leaned further into his chest, clasping her hands around the back of his head to signal her willingness. They fell into a wondrous rhythm as the intense passion turned into playful pleasure, and while Ali could have continued on for much, much longer, she was more than conscious of their vulnerability out in public.
"Satisfied?" she asked, still tasting him on her tongue as she pulled away.
He grinned in return, with creases appearing at the corners of his mischievous eyes. "Hmm. Pleased, yes. Satisfied? Hell no." He slid one hand up her spine and dug his hand into her hair to pull her back against him.
Their lips crushed against each other again, but after a few moments, it was now Hank who finally let up. "You need to go," he said hoarsely.
"I know," she whispered, stroking his face one more time. "But how am I supposed to go out after that?"
"Buck up, cowpoke." He exaggerated a Southern drawl while slapping her on the rear as she turned.
Ali looked over her shoulder and giggled. "Is that the best you got?"
Hank grabbed her from behind and pulled her back against him. "I don't think you're ready yet to handle my best," he whispered in her ear, grazing her face with his. A chill ran through Ali's entire body, and she was sure staying with him for the rest of her mandatory session would have done more good for her psyche than an hour with the therapist waiting in the paddock. But since she didn't have a choice, she reluctantly shuffled away.
"Hot damn," she muttered as Hank chuckled behind her.
As promised, Dr. Sacher was waiting for her outside. "How was the fair?" she asked as she lowered the hoof she'd just been inspecting.
Ali dropped her gaze to her boots, suddenly very aware of her flushed cheeks. Everyone already knew she had spent Saturday with Hank and the kids, but why did she let him pull her aside like that? So much for discretion.
"I never did anything like that before, but it was fun." She forced a smile to hide her embarrassment.
"New experiences are good as long as we're not using them to hide from things we're not ready to face." Dr. Sacher patted the horse's neck, and Ali mentally prepared for the inevitable psychoanalysis. The therapist, however, changed course. "But we'll crack that nut another time. Now, as you know, we offer outpatient equine-assisted therapy, and given your expertise in horsemanship, I thought you could help me with a lesson today."
Relieved to temporarily have the attention off herself, Ali let out a deep breath. "Gladly. Who's the lucky taker?" she asked.
Dr. Sacher nodded toward a teenager sitting on the horizontal fence beams, dangling her feet into the paddock. "This will be Jessica's first exposure to horses. I'll let you get started while I have a few words with her mother. Can you handle that?"
"Sure, but why is she here?" Ali asked, but when the woman offered no response, she clarified. "I mean, what's the reason for the therapy?"
"I'm afraid that's protected information, and for our purposes today, it really doesn't matter," she said, patting Ali's arm. "Just take it slow, and you should be fine."
As the therapist headed for her mother, Jessica jumped off the fence and ran to Ali. After quick formalities—and one more wishful glance toward the barn—they dove into the lesson.
"The most important thing to remember when dealing with a horse is to make sure you're both comfortable." Ali held the noseband and stroked the mare's snout. "They're extremely intelligent animals who crave your leadership. To give them that, you need to make sure to be confident and assertive."
"I don't know," Jessica said, stepping back when the horse stomped a foot. "She's so big."
Ali smiled. "Well, that's one thing I can't argue with. But I can show you some tricks that I've learned over the years to make her seem less intimidating. And the first one is pretty easy." She pulled a sugar cube from her pocket and put it into the girl's upturned palm.
"Jessica, meet Cinnamon. Cinnamon, this is Jessica." Ali made the introductions as the horse gingerly sucked up the small treat from the giggling girl's hand.
Dr. Sacher returned, but she stayed in the background. "Don't mind me. Keep going as you were," she said, dismissing Ali's look of concern.
Continuing with the basics, Ali showed Jessica all the pieces in the horse's tack. They practiced the name, purpose, and proper application of each strap, buckle, and implement until the girl could recite them flawlessly. Ali then showed her how to properly lead the animal around the enclosure, first by doing it herself and then allowing Jessica to try.
"Excellent," Ali noted as they rounded the paddock for the second time. "I think you've earned the right to hop into the saddle."
This time, the girl didn't back away. "Can you show me first?" she asked.
Ali nodded. "Sure. You need to shorten the reins, then reach up and grab the saddle horn with your left hand like this." She demonstrated. "Put your left foot into the stirrup and while balancing your right hand on the seat, pull yourself up like so."
The mare took a few small steps as Ali swung her leg over her back, putting her entire weight into the saddle. "Then stick your right foot into the other stirrup, straighten your back, and adjust the length of the reins so you can comfortably guide the horse. Dismounting is exactly the same, but backward." Narrating that process, she easily got off the horse and handed the reins to Jessica. "Let's see how you do it."
The girl looked at her mother—still standing outside the fence—who nodded in encouragement. As Ali watched, she climbed into the saddle with just minor assistance.
"I did it." Jessica beamed, filling Ali with pride as she remembered her own first experience mounting. Horses used to be such a large and positive part of her life. She envied the girl her innocent joy.
"Are you up for a walk around the paddock?" Ali asked.
This time, Jessica didn't need anyone's help in deciding. "Yeah." She nodded before Ali began leading Cinnamon.
"Excellent lesson, Ms. Barros," said Dr. Sacher as she joined them on the walk.
"Thank you," Ali said, also pleased with how it had gone. "I've really wanted to try my hand at coaching, but I've always been busy with my own training. I appreciate the opportunity."
"Perhaps Jessica can finish the lap on her own?"
Ali looked up at the teen and held out the reins. "Give her a light squeeze with your lower legs to get started, keep your back straight and the lead loose. Are you up for it?"
The girl nodded hesitantly. "Okay."
"We'll be close if you need us." Ali smiled and stepped away.
"I must admit, I did have ulterior motives for asking you to do this today," Dr. Sacher said when they were alone, watching for Ali's reaction.
She scoffed. She'd had a feeling there was some reverse psychology at play. "Honestly, Dr. Sacher, getting on the horse isn't the problem," she said as she kicked the dirt with her boot, addressing the obstacle she had successfully—and surprisingly easily—overcome. "Not having control once I'm up there? That fear is going to take more than giving a riding lesson to get over."
The therapist smiled. "Nicely said, Ms. Barros. Now we're getting somewhere. A few more admissions like that, and you may be ready to go home."
Ali stuck her hands in her pockets. "Have I never said that out loud?"
"Not to me, but I'm very pleased with your progress. I can't wait to see how you'll do next time." The therapist patted her on the shoulder and left to finish Jessica's lap.
With the girl's lesson—and her own session—over, Ali headed back to her room. A folded piece of paper and three wildflowers had been slipped underneath the door.
I had to leave for the day, but meet me at the end of the driveway tomorrow at 3 pm? Dress for a hike! —H