are four inch zippers, and pastel plaid deck shoes. She looks like the cover of an all-girls prep school pamphlet except she’s wearing the shit out of those jeans. Hannah McClane’s grandmother was right in putting her in the potato sack dresses. Coupled with the almost-snug fitting pink top, Kelly feels a surge of instant lust shoot through him like a tidal wave. And she’s still holding out her hand to him like an unknowing fawn holding its tiny hoof out to a wolf. And the wolf gladly accepts it, of course, because wolves aren’t stupid, and they know a good meal when they see one.
“Step down. That’s it. Let’s go,” Kelly tells her and holds her hand tightly in his. He doesn’t drag her like that damn, fateful day in the barn but goes much slower for her. As they approach the barn, his mount whinnies loudly, making Hannah jump and squeal. “Are you sure you want to do this? I can take you back if you...”
“No! Please, I really want to, Kelly. I love riding and being outdoors and around the animals. Like I said, Reagan always took me,” she explains and a breeze blows her hair against Kelly’s arm, tickling him. It makes him grimace as if he’s in pain.
He unties the horse’s reins and leads the chestnut mare toward the paddock gate. Once they are all three through, the mare on one arm and Hannah on his other, he mounts up, checks the rifle scabbard again.
“Ready? Reach up, there, got ya’,” he tells her as he pulls her easily up behind him. She’s slighter than he originally thought, probably because she wears such baggy clothing so often that make her appear bigger than she is. The mare prances twice under them, and Kelly pulls her under control easily enough. Hannah’s arms wrap tightly around his midsection, not something he’d considered when this dumb idea came to fruition.
“I’m ready,” she declares happily.
And with her declaration, they’re off to make the morning rounds for a perimeter safety check, as well as making Kelly exceedingly uncomfortable in his jeans. This isn’t one of his more brilliant plans.
“Hannah, if something would happen out here, I’ll let you down first and put you somewhere with the horse out of danger while I take care of it,” he explains as they come down to the end of the first paddock.
“I know, Kelly. You’ll take care of me,” she says it so matter-of-fact that it actually scares Kelly because of the amount of faith she has in him.
He dismounts, swinging a leg over his mare’s neck and slides to the ground while Hannah holds onto the back of the saddle’s rim. Kelly does not let go of the horse’s reins, though, lest it could take off for the barn with an unsuspecting Hannah on its back.
“Hold on, Hannah, while I get this gate, ok?” he instructs her. She seems very relaxed, at ease even, completely trusting. And she’s smiling ear to ear. She’s so frustrating.
“I’m ok, Kelly. Reagan used to do this, too. Sometimes she’d do it while she was still on the horse, but she said with me on with her that it threw off her balance. But I think it was because she was afraid I’d fall off,” she explains patiently.
Once he tugs the mare gently through the gate opening, he re-locks it with the chain and mounts again in front of her, careful not to kick her off.
They ride through the open meadow where mustard yellow Goldenrod blooms heartily in the late summer sunshine. A hawk’s scream can be heard in the distance, probably hunting prey for her needy family.
“Oh, it’s so divine to be out in the sun and riding... and spending time with you,” she lilts like she’s drunk on happiness and good cheer.
Spirits are not something of which any of the McClane family partakes, he’s noticed. They aren’t concerned about looting any of the local liquor stores or stressing out over where their next bottle of Merlot is coming from.
“Uh, yeah. This is a patrol, though, Hannah, not some social hour thing,” he doesn’t want
“Step down. That’s it. Let’s go,” Kelly tells her and holds her hand tightly in his. He doesn’t drag her like that damn, fateful day in the barn but goes much slower for her. As they approach the barn, his mount whinnies loudly, making Hannah jump and squeal. “Are you sure you want to do this? I can take you back if you...”
“No! Please, I really want to, Kelly. I love riding and being outdoors and around the animals. Like I said, Reagan always took me,” she explains and a breeze blows her hair against Kelly’s arm, tickling him. It makes him grimace as if he’s in pain.
He unties the horse’s reins and leads the chestnut mare toward the paddock gate. Once they are all three through, the mare on one arm and Hannah on his other, he mounts up, checks the rifle scabbard again.
“Ready? Reach up, there, got ya’,” he tells her as he pulls her easily up behind him. She’s slighter than he originally thought, probably because she wears such baggy clothing so often that make her appear bigger than she is. The mare prances twice under them, and Kelly pulls her under control easily enough. Hannah’s arms wrap tightly around his midsection, not something he’d considered when this dumb idea came to fruition.
“I’m ready,” she declares happily.
And with her declaration, they’re off to make the morning rounds for a perimeter safety check, as well as making Kelly exceedingly uncomfortable in his jeans. This isn’t one of his more brilliant plans.
“Hannah, if something would happen out here, I’ll let you down first and put you somewhere with the horse out of danger while I take care of it,” he explains as they come down to the end of the first paddock.
“I know, Kelly. You’ll take care of me,” she says it so matter-of-fact that it actually scares Kelly because of the amount of faith she has in him.
He dismounts, swinging a leg over his mare’s neck and slides to the ground while Hannah holds onto the back of the saddle’s rim. Kelly does not let go of the horse’s reins, though, lest it could take off for the barn with an unsuspecting Hannah on its back.
“Hold on, Hannah, while I get this gate, ok?” he instructs her. She seems very relaxed, at ease even, completely trusting. And she’s smiling ear to ear. She’s so frustrating.
“I’m ok, Kelly. Reagan used to do this, too. Sometimes she’d do it while she was still on the horse, but she said with me on with her that it threw off her balance. But I think it was because she was afraid I’d fall off,” she explains patiently.
Once he tugs the mare gently through the gate opening, he re-locks it with the chain and mounts again in front of her, careful not to kick her off.
They ride through the open meadow where mustard yellow Goldenrod blooms heartily in the late summer sunshine. A hawk’s scream can be heard in the distance, probably hunting prey for her needy family.
“Oh, it’s so divine to be out in the sun and riding... and spending time with you,” she lilts like she’s drunk on happiness and good cheer.
Spirits are not something of which any of the McClane family partakes, he’s noticed. They aren’t concerned about looting any of the local liquor stores or stressing out over where their next bottle of Merlot is coming from.
“Uh, yeah. This is a patrol, though, Hannah, not some social hour thing,” he doesn’t want
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