The Bridal Path: Sara by Sherryl Woods Page A

though, she was beginning to have little twinges in every muscle she possessed. She didn’t hate Zeke at that moment, but she was beginning to reassess her opinion of him. It was entirely possible that he was some sort of evil sadist, who thrived on inflicting pain.
    She was limping toward the house, when she spotted Jake. Before she could make an agonizing dash from view, he caught sight of her. She forced herself to straighten up and walk as if she were in perfect health.
    “How’d the first lesson go?” he asked.
    Sara plastered on her very brightest smile. She knew the value of psychological warfare as well as anyone. “Terrific. Zeke says this is going to be a breeze. He claims I’m a natural, practically as good as you were when you started.”
    The stark lie didn’t appear to fool Jake.
    “Oh, really?” he said skeptically. He reached for her left hand and examined it with painstaking intensity. “No bruises. No raw spots. That must mean the reins didn’t stay wrapped around your hand for long.” He lifted his gaze to meet hers. “Take any spills?”
    “Not a one,” she lied.
    “Then I guess you must have been rolling around in the dirt just for fun.” He reached over and brushed a streak of dust from her shoulder. He was aiming for another one on the seat of her jeans, when she backed out of reach.
    “The horse must have been kicking up more dirt than I realized,” she said. “Excuse me, but I’m going in to check my messages and clean up a little.”
    His eyes sparked with mischief. “Now why do I find that image so fascinating?”
    “Because you’re depraved,” she suggested sweetly and stalked away.
    Jake’s voice followed her. “If you expect to move later, a long hot bath would be in order.”
    “I’ll keep that in mind.”
    “I could come inside and run it for you.”
    “In your dreams. Besides, I have chores to do. I’ll shower later.”
    An hour later, after running a brush through her hair and washing the dirt off her face, Sara could already feel her muscles stiffening. She eyed her tub longingly, but reminded herself she didn’t dare let Jake see any hint of weakness. If she didn’t show up to clean out the stalls and feed the horses this afternoon, he would know that the lesson had gotten to her. She dragged herself out to the barn, wincing with every step.
    The instant she saw him, though, she forced herself to move with a normal stride.
    Jake leaned back against the gate to an unoccupied stall and surveyed her from head to toe. “You cleaned up pretty good. How’re you feeling?”
    “I told you before, I’m just fine,” she snapped, reaching for a broom. The effort very nearly brought tears to her eyes. Aside from the bumps and bruises she’d discovered when she’d peeked under her clothes, her arms and shoulders felt as if she’d tried to tug a speeding train to a halt.
    Jake just stood where he was and observed every move she made. It forced her to keep up the pretense long past the time when any sane person would have given up and begged for some soothing liniment and a massage.
    “Give me that,” Jake finally said irritably. He snatched the broom from her. “Go on inside and rest.”
    Sara tried to drag it back, but her muscles protested vehemently. She was forced to relinquish the broom, along with the first little sliver of her pride. She wondered how much more Jake would claim before they were done.
    “You could do me a favor,” he said as he swept.
    “What?”
    “If you’re not too beat, take a look at the books for me. There’s a mistake in there somewhere, but I’ll be damned if I can find it.”
    Suspicious, Sara regarded him intently. “Is there really a mistake or is this just your way of giving me desk duty for the afternoon?”
    “Trust me, there’s a mistake. I figure fresh eyes might be able to find it. You’re better with numbers than I am anyway.”
    For some reason the scant praise pleased her far more than it should have. It also