Go ahead, get your own horse saddled.”
Friends or not, he didn’t see the harm in watching her walk away, or noticing how her jeans fit as she did.
They set to work, with a rhythm both of them knew well. When Coop lifted her saddlebag, he winced. “That’s a lot of chicken.”
“I’ve got my recorder and camera, and . . . stuff. You know I like to make a record when I’m out on a trail. I was thinking we could head for the creek, then take one of the spur trails through the forest. Get a good gallop on the way there, then it’s pretty scenery.”
He shot her a knowing look. “Cougar territory?”
“The couple I’ve tracked this year cover that area. But that’s not why.” She smiled as she swung into the saddle. “It’s just a pretty ride, and there’s a stream where the forest opens up. It’s a nice spot for a picnic. It’s a good hour from here though, if you’d rather something closer.”
“I can work up a good appetite in an hour.” He vaulted onto his horse, settled his hat more securely on his head. “Which way?”
“Southwest.”
“Race ya.”
He gave the gelding a light kick. They galloped across the farmyard and through the fields.
There’d been a time, Lil thought, when she’d been the better rider, and by a long shot. Now she had to admit they were on level ground. The mare was her advantage, being light and quick, so with the wind in her hair, Lil reached the thin line of trees less than a length in the lead.
Laughing, eyes bright, she leaned forward to give the mare a congratulatory pat on the neck. “Where do you ride in New York?”
“I don’t.”
She straightened in the saddle. “You’re saying you haven’t sat a horse in two years?”
He shrugged. “It’s like riding a bike.”
“No, it’s like riding a horse. How do you . . .” She trailed off, shook her head, and began to walk the horse into the pines.
“How do I what?”
“Well, how do you stand not doing something you love?”
“I do other stuff.”
“Such as?”
“Ride a motorcycle, hang out, listen to music.”
“Chase girls.”
He gave her a grin. “They don’t run very fast.”
She let out a hoot. “I bet they don’t. How does CeeCee feel about you being out here all summer.”
He shrugged again as they crossed a flat bordered by trees and boulders. “We’re not serious. She’s got her thing, I’ve got mine.”
“I thought you two were tight.”
“Not especially. I heard you were hooking up with Jesse Nodock.”
“God, no!” Tossing back her head, she laughed. “He’s nice enough, but kind of dopey. Plus all he really wants to do is wrestle.”
“Wrestle? Why . . .” Something dark crept into his eyes. “You mean with you? You’ve been doing it with Nodock?”
“I have not. I went out with him a couple times. I don’t much like the way he kisses. A little on the sloppy side of things, to my taste. He needs to practice his technique.”
“You know a lot about technique?”
She slanted him a look, a slow smile. “I’m doing an informal study. Look.” As they were riding abreast, she reached out to touch his arm, then pointed. In the far edges of the trees, a herd of deer stopped to stare back at them. Lil dug out her recorder.
“Six white-tail, four doe, two fawns. Aren’t they sweet? A buck’s been through here, too, not long ago.”
“How do you know that, Tonto?”
“Look at the bark. Scrape marks from a buck rubbing his antlers. Some of that’s fresh, Mr. New York.”
This, too, was familiar, he thought. Riding with her, listening to her point out the tracks, the wildlife, the signs. He’d missed that.
“What else do you see?”
“Marmot tracks, and mule deer. There’s a red squirrel up in that tree. You’ve got eyes.”
“Not like yours.”
“Cat’s been through here, but not recently.”
He watched her, only her. He couldn’t seem to do otherwise, not when the sunlight dappled on her face, and those dark eyes were so alive, so
Friends or not, he didn’t see the harm in watching her walk away, or noticing how her jeans fit as she did.
They set to work, with a rhythm both of them knew well. When Coop lifted her saddlebag, he winced. “That’s a lot of chicken.”
“I’ve got my recorder and camera, and . . . stuff. You know I like to make a record when I’m out on a trail. I was thinking we could head for the creek, then take one of the spur trails through the forest. Get a good gallop on the way there, then it’s pretty scenery.”
He shot her a knowing look. “Cougar territory?”
“The couple I’ve tracked this year cover that area. But that’s not why.” She smiled as she swung into the saddle. “It’s just a pretty ride, and there’s a stream where the forest opens up. It’s a nice spot for a picnic. It’s a good hour from here though, if you’d rather something closer.”
“I can work up a good appetite in an hour.” He vaulted onto his horse, settled his hat more securely on his head. “Which way?”
“Southwest.”
“Race ya.”
He gave the gelding a light kick. They galloped across the farmyard and through the fields.
There’d been a time, Lil thought, when she’d been the better rider, and by a long shot. Now she had to admit they were on level ground. The mare was her advantage, being light and quick, so with the wind in her hair, Lil reached the thin line of trees less than a length in the lead.
Laughing, eyes bright, she leaned forward to give the mare a congratulatory pat on the neck. “Where do you ride in New York?”
“I don’t.”
She straightened in the saddle. “You’re saying you haven’t sat a horse in two years?”
He shrugged. “It’s like riding a bike.”
“No, it’s like riding a horse. How do you . . .” She trailed off, shook her head, and began to walk the horse into the pines.
“How do I what?”
“Well, how do you stand not doing something you love?”
“I do other stuff.”
“Such as?”
“Ride a motorcycle, hang out, listen to music.”
“Chase girls.”
He gave her a grin. “They don’t run very fast.”
She let out a hoot. “I bet they don’t. How does CeeCee feel about you being out here all summer.”
He shrugged again as they crossed a flat bordered by trees and boulders. “We’re not serious. She’s got her thing, I’ve got mine.”
“I thought you two were tight.”
“Not especially. I heard you were hooking up with Jesse Nodock.”
“God, no!” Tossing back her head, she laughed. “He’s nice enough, but kind of dopey. Plus all he really wants to do is wrestle.”
“Wrestle? Why . . .” Something dark crept into his eyes. “You mean with you? You’ve been doing it with Nodock?”
“I have not. I went out with him a couple times. I don’t much like the way he kisses. A little on the sloppy side of things, to my taste. He needs to practice his technique.”
“You know a lot about technique?”
She slanted him a look, a slow smile. “I’m doing an informal study. Look.” As they were riding abreast, she reached out to touch his arm, then pointed. In the far edges of the trees, a herd of deer stopped to stare back at them. Lil dug out her recorder.
“Six white-tail, four doe, two fawns. Aren’t they sweet? A buck’s been through here, too, not long ago.”
“How do you know that, Tonto?”
“Look at the bark. Scrape marks from a buck rubbing his antlers. Some of that’s fresh, Mr. New York.”
This, too, was familiar, he thought. Riding with her, listening to her point out the tracks, the wildlife, the signs. He’d missed that.
“What else do you see?”
“Marmot tracks, and mule deer. There’s a red squirrel up in that tree. You’ve got eyes.”
“Not like yours.”
“Cat’s been through here, but not recently.”
He watched her, only her. He couldn’t seem to do otherwise, not when the sunlight dappled on her face, and those dark eyes were so alive, so
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