Kentucky Groom by Jan Scarbrough Page B

into her life, Carrie felt a measure of control over the situation. Yet when he looked at her like that, she felt her hard-won control slipping. Allowing herself to fall in love was like learning to ride a horse—scary but exciting. Carrie experienced that excitement in the pit of her stomach, and it translated to her legs and hands. As if sensing her tension, Doolittle snorted. Gathering her reins, she nodded, and Jay released the bridle.
    Carrie rode Doolittle into the indoor arena at an animated walk. Even the walk was hard for her to handle. After all these years, she was rusty. Doolittle was ready to go and curious, turning his head into the center of the arena like a nosey old maid. Carrie managed to straighten his head as she rode along the rail. She hadn’t ridden such a game horse since she quit showing as a kid. It didn’t take her long to gain a new respect for her daughter’s riding ability.
    “Collect him up and ask him to trot,” Jay instructed.
    Carrie glanced to where Jay stood in the center. Jesse was perched upon Mary’s teaching stool next to him. Somehow seeing them together touched her. Almost like it was meant to be. Not a replacement for Tate, surely. More like a big brother to love and guide her special child. Carrie swallowed her sentiment and with her legs, urged Doolittle into a trot. The pony sprang forward and all thought vanished as Carrie concentrated on posting and guiding.
     
    As Carrie posted up and down and circled the indoor arena, Jay watched his new pupil with a fascination born of love. She retained her girlish figure and radiant beauty. He could hardly believe the trim woman, who pressed her knees into the saddle and stretched her heels down expertly, belonged in some small measure to him because they had agreed to date. His heart thudded like the beat of the trotting horse as he hastily ran a hand through his hair. What would it feel like to have those lanky legs straddle his body?
    Jay was barely able to voice his next instructions because of the lack of air he found in his lungs. Fighting to regain his breath and fighting to quell his overactive imagination, he finally forced air back into his lungs. “Okay. You can walk now.”
    “Thank goodness. Doolittle’s much harder to ride than I imagined.”
    Jesse preened herself on the stool, smiling a knowing smile and puffing out her chest. Jay knew what she must be thinking. Jesse had won a blue ribbon on a horse that her mother found challenging. Horseback riding was proving a common denominator between mother and daughter.
    He wished Carter would share his love of horses with his own daughter. Once, a long time ago, he and Carter had shared a passion for showing horses. It had never been enough because Jay had always felt the pressure to win, to be the best, to be Carter Preston’s son. But it had been something. Their relationship had changed after Carter had divorced Gloria’s mother. Jay had never forgiven him for that. Sure, he could accept his situation in his father’s life, but it was hard to stomach Carter’s disregard for the little girl.
    But he didn’t want to think of that now.
    Jay called out to Carrie, “When you set him up to slow gait, hold your reins apart, sit deep in your saddle, urge him with your legs, and cluck. Doolittle should do the rest.”
    Carrie eyed him. “Okay.”
    She seemed to gather up her nerve again and followed his instructions, the pony going forward with his four-beat gait, hooves striking the ground one at a time. Jay watched as surprise and then pleasure flitted across Carrie’s face. Then the intense concentration returned to her eyes as she bit her lip tensely, trying to keep her seat in the saddle.
    “Now speed him up. Ask him to rack.”
    Carrie glanced his way and then applied pressure with her legs, clucking loudly. Doolittle’s gentle amble increased into a full-fledged rack. Jay whistled and clapped his hands to make the pony go on faster.
    “Ride `em, cowboy!”