Rocky Mountain Bride (Rocky Mountain Bride Series Book 2) by Lee Savino Page B
Authors: Lee Savino
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together, she waited for him to say grace, but he reached right for the biscuits.
She bent her head and scuttled out a little prayer of her own.
“We’ll take the wagon to town and get supplies from Martin after the ceremony. If he doesn’t have what we need, we’ll have to get by a few more weeks without them. The cattle need to go to the winter pasture; I’ll move them after Belle drops her foal.”
“Are you worried that she’ll have her baby when we’re gone?”
He shrugged. “She’s carrying well and seems healthy enough. She’s in her own stall, and if the time comes today, nature will take its course.”
He scraped the last of his eggs from his plate, but Carrie lingered over her empty dish. “How did you learn so much about horses?”
“Loved them ever since I was a boy. My father got me a job with a breeder who promised to teach me.”
“What did you learn?” She leaned forward and rested her chin on her hands.
“My ma would thrash me for putting my elbows on the table,” he observed.
She froze, then caught the tiny crinkles in the corners of his eyes. He was teasing. With a small smile, she put her hands into her lap.
“I learned…that horses make several tons of muck a day. And I was the one who had to clean it.”
Carrie giggled.
“But after I proved myself, he taught me. How to care for them, shoe them, nurse them back to health when they’re sick…”
Entranced, Carrie watched her intended’s face grow gentle, the harsh planes smoothing as he spoke of the horses he loved. He looked even more handsome with hair wet from the washing and a soft expression.
“…The old man died and left me two horses from his own stables. Ones he knew would be good breeders. I brought them with me from Kansas, and also bought Monty and Belle’s dam. The rest, I trained them myself.”
Carrie remembered something Lyle had said that she’d wondered about ever since. “How long does it take you to break their spirit?”
He frowned a little. “The best trainer doesn’t break a horse’s spirit; he tempers it. He molds it and directs it where he wants it to go. The horse learns to mind, and then the two of them can ride as one.” His tawny eyes seemed to glow as he told her, “Firm, but gentle, Carrie. That’s the way a good man leads.”
Blinking to break the spell, she gathered the dishes and left the table. Her fiancé was watching her from his seat when she looked back.
“Miles? Are you taming me?”
“Aye, Carrie,” he said softly. “And to answer your question, it doesn’t take that long. But it lasts a lifetime.”
*****
A short while later, Carrie came out of the homestead in her blue dress, with her hair braided under the yellow bonnet. Miles had the wagon hitched with Monty and a gelding. She walked slowly down the path to them, careful not to let her hem fall in the dirt.
As she approached, Miles jumped down. She thought she saw a hint of appreciation in his face when he took in her scrubbed face and clean dress. Excitement and anticipation added a blush to her cheeks; she felt them redden further under his scrutiny. But he said nothing and simply helped her into her seat.
They both were settled and ready to go when Miles said her name quietly, and then nodded towards the chicken pen.
She’d left the gate open.
“Oh no,” she said as Miles leapt down to shut it. Miraculously, no chickens had escaped, but when he returned, he gave her a tell-tale glance.
“We’ll talk about it when we return.”
As the cart bounced down the hill, Carrie sat gingerly, wincing and wondering how much more her poor backside could take.
*****
They reached the town around noon, and Carrie felt surprise. Royal was the same small dusty town, but now it seemed huge and grand compared to their little cabin on the hill.
“There’s no church building, yet,” Miles said. “Reverend Shepherd holds services out of his home. That’s where we’ll go.”
As they pulled
She bent her head and scuttled out a little prayer of her own.
“We’ll take the wagon to town and get supplies from Martin after the ceremony. If he doesn’t have what we need, we’ll have to get by a few more weeks without them. The cattle need to go to the winter pasture; I’ll move them after Belle drops her foal.”
“Are you worried that she’ll have her baby when we’re gone?”
He shrugged. “She’s carrying well and seems healthy enough. She’s in her own stall, and if the time comes today, nature will take its course.”
He scraped the last of his eggs from his plate, but Carrie lingered over her empty dish. “How did you learn so much about horses?”
“Loved them ever since I was a boy. My father got me a job with a breeder who promised to teach me.”
“What did you learn?” She leaned forward and rested her chin on her hands.
“My ma would thrash me for putting my elbows on the table,” he observed.
She froze, then caught the tiny crinkles in the corners of his eyes. He was teasing. With a small smile, she put her hands into her lap.
“I learned…that horses make several tons of muck a day. And I was the one who had to clean it.”
Carrie giggled.
“But after I proved myself, he taught me. How to care for them, shoe them, nurse them back to health when they’re sick…”
Entranced, Carrie watched her intended’s face grow gentle, the harsh planes smoothing as he spoke of the horses he loved. He looked even more handsome with hair wet from the washing and a soft expression.
“…The old man died and left me two horses from his own stables. Ones he knew would be good breeders. I brought them with me from Kansas, and also bought Monty and Belle’s dam. The rest, I trained them myself.”
Carrie remembered something Lyle had said that she’d wondered about ever since. “How long does it take you to break their spirit?”
He frowned a little. “The best trainer doesn’t break a horse’s spirit; he tempers it. He molds it and directs it where he wants it to go. The horse learns to mind, and then the two of them can ride as one.” His tawny eyes seemed to glow as he told her, “Firm, but gentle, Carrie. That’s the way a good man leads.”
Blinking to break the spell, she gathered the dishes and left the table. Her fiancé was watching her from his seat when she looked back.
“Miles? Are you taming me?”
“Aye, Carrie,” he said softly. “And to answer your question, it doesn’t take that long. But it lasts a lifetime.”
*****
A short while later, Carrie came out of the homestead in her blue dress, with her hair braided under the yellow bonnet. Miles had the wagon hitched with Monty and a gelding. She walked slowly down the path to them, careful not to let her hem fall in the dirt.
As she approached, Miles jumped down. She thought she saw a hint of appreciation in his face when he took in her scrubbed face and clean dress. Excitement and anticipation added a blush to her cheeks; she felt them redden further under his scrutiny. But he said nothing and simply helped her into her seat.
They both were settled and ready to go when Miles said her name quietly, and then nodded towards the chicken pen.
She’d left the gate open.
“Oh no,” she said as Miles leapt down to shut it. Miraculously, no chickens had escaped, but when he returned, he gave her a tell-tale glance.
“We’ll talk about it when we return.”
As the cart bounced down the hill, Carrie sat gingerly, wincing and wondering how much more her poor backside could take.
*****
They reached the town around noon, and Carrie felt surprise. Royal was the same small dusty town, but now it seemed huge and grand compared to their little cabin on the hill.
“There’s no church building, yet,” Miles said. “Reverend Shepherd holds services out of his home. That’s where we’ll go.”
As they pulled
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