Page 7 of Mountain Man's Bride

Ranger finally lowered his head when I was close enough that he didn’t have to stretch, and he ate the carrot right out of my palm. I chuckled and grabbed another from my pocket, placing it in my palm. He took that one, too. I grinned.

Taking a chance, I stepped closer and placed my palm on his neck. He snorted in displeasure but didn’t move. I brushed my hand over him. “There you go,” I praised. “You’re doing so good, boy.”

“Hey,” a soft voice called from the entrance to the stables.

Ranger snorted and reared up. I quickly backed away from him so I wouldn’t get kicked or trampled. He backed away from the front of the stall, swinging his head in agitation.

Sighing, I turned to look at Everlee. Her face was pale, and she was staring with wide eyes at Ranger. I moved toward her. “Don’t worry about him,” I told her as Ranger whinnied. “He’s a bit traumatized, but I’m making progress with him. He’s just easily spooked.”

She winced. “He almost killed you.”

I chuckled and shook my head, shoving my hands into my pockets. “Nah. Horses are just gentle giants, and that one is just trying to protect himself.”

Reminded me a lot of her, honestly. I’d cornered her; I knew I did. And now, I had to repair the damage I’d done. But despite what I’d done, I was mostly sleeping peacefully at night because I knew she had the help she needed. She had health insurance, insulin, and access to healthcare now. I would never apologize for that.

She looked at him again, the color slowly returning to her face. “What’s his name?”

“Ranger,” I replied, trying to hide my surprise at her talking to me. This was the most she’d said to me in one sitting in two weeks. I just prayed she didn’t suddenly back track on me and suddenly go mute again. “Everything okay?” I asked her.

She nodded and shrugged. “Just got bored in the house. I wanted to take a look around the property, but I thought I should tell you first in case I get lost or, you know,” she winced a little, “something happens.”

I hummed, trying not to think of what could happen. Just remembering her shaking and being so pale when her sugars dropped a couple of weeks ago had chills running down my spine.

“You ever rode a horse before?” I asked her, wanting to step away from that topic.

She shook her head at me, her eyebrows scrunching together adorably. “No. Why?”

I jerked my head in the direction of the other horses calmly eating in their stables, already having been groomed this morning. “Want to learn? We can ride a couple of horses, and I can show you around.”

A nervous smile tilted her lips. “Um, sure. It won’t throw me off or anything though, right?”

I chuckled, shaking my head. She was so cute. “No, sweetheart, it won’t. Come on.”

I led her over to the stables and picked out my gentlest mare, Clover. She was born in a field popping with clovers, and it just kind of fit. She was white with a mane of black hair. It was the oddest combination, but she was beautiful. And just as sweet as could be.

“Wow,” Everlee breathed, staring at Clover. “Can I pet her?”

I nodded. “If you move away from where she can see you, make sure you keep a hand on her at all times so she knows where you are. It helps to prevent injuries.”

Everlee swallowed thickly and nodded. Tentatively stepping forward, she placed her hand on Clover’s neck and smoothed her hand over her, a wide smile spreading across her face.

My breath caught in my throat.

Everlee was beautiful when she was happy—truly happy. Her entire face lit up with it, her eyes shining beautifully. If I’d thought she was beautiful when I first laid eyes on her at the airport, her then was nothing compared to how stunning she was in that moment, her hand stroking over Clover’s sleek coat.

While she petted and cooed to Clover, I worked on getting her saddled up, sneaking glances at Everleee every few seconds as I did so. I couldn’t help it; my eyes were drawn to her, especially when she was smiling like that.

Once Clover was saddled, I put a stool beside her and hooked her to two poles to keep her in place. Normally, we didn’t do that—my brothers and I were experts at mounting horses, even when they didn’t have a saddle. We’d been doing this all our lives though, and Everlee was as new to this as someone could get.

“Alright, you ready?” I asked Everlee, drawing her attention to me.

Everlee blew out a soft breath, her eyes nervously flickering to the saddle, but one thing I’d come to learn about my new wife was that she didn’t back down from a challenge.

She walked over to me, nodding. “I’m as ready as I’m ever going to be.”

I grabbed her hand and stroked my thumb over her soft skin. “Stand on the stool,” I gently commanded. She stepped up onto the stool, and I smiled at her, trying to ignore how great it felt to hold her hand. “Now, grab the saddle horn.”

“This?” she asked, wrapping her hand around it.