Montana Hearts by Charlotte Carter Page B

Climb on over the fence and we’ll get started.”
    She tried to recall the last time she’d climbed a fence and remembered she’d been about ten years old. She’d followed a neighbor boy over a block wall fence. He’d jumped to the ground on the other side. She’d slipped and scraped both of her elbows and ripped her jeans. Not an auspicious beginning for fence climbing.
    Gathering her courage, she climbed to the top of the corral fence, swung a leg over and teetered there for a moment awkwardly trying to get the other leg over.
    At the exact instant she was about to take a header into the dirt, Kurt’s big hands closed around her waist. He lifted her high above the top rung, then set her safely on the ground.
    Heat flooded her face, and the warmth of his grip on her waist radiated through her midsection.
    â€œEasy does it.” His voice was low and slightly rough.
    â€œI’ve never had the fence buck anyone off. Don’t want to start now.”
    She swallowed hard and took a step away. “How about Peaches? How many riders has she thrown?”
    â€œNot a one. She’ll be as gentle as your own mother.”
    As overprotective as her mother had always been, Sarah doubted her mother would approve of her going anywhere near a horse, much less ride one.
    Maybe that’s precisely why she needed to do justthat. She no longer needed or wanted the suffocating concern her mother—understandably—had lavished on her. She needed to assert her independence, savor her good health, try new things.
    She looked up at Kurt, his golden-brown eyes focused steadily on her. And take a risk?
    â€œAll right, cowboy, let’s do it,” she said, her voice strangely breathless.
    â€œAtta girl.” Taking her hand, he led her to Peaches’s left side. “Give her a pat and talk to her. She likes to know who she’s carrying around.”
    Barely able to see over Peaches’s back, Sarah petted the horse’s neck. The horse’s withers rippled in response. She caught the strong, though not unpleasant, smell of horse flesh. “Hi, Peaches. Remember me? I gave you a bite of apple the other day.”
    Peaches turned her head and eyed Sarah, then nodded her head twice.
    â€œSee? She remembers you,” Kurt said.
    â€œIf you say so.”
    As though drawn to the upcoming spectacle, Rudy came out of the barn and lay down in a shady spot to watch. Maybe a good laugh would make his doggie day.
    â€œI’ll help you mount. Grab a handful of her mane with your left hand and put your left foot in my hands. I’ll boost you up. Then you swing your right foot over the saddle. Nothing to it.”
    She doubted it was as easy as Kurt tried to make it sound. Wiping the perspiration from her palms on her jeans, she took hold of Peaches’s mane and carefully placed her foot in Kurt’s cupped hands. He lifted—
    â€œOoh!” Suddenly unbalanced, she made a grab for the saddle horn before she went flying off on the other side of the horse. Peaches danced around, her rear end sidling toward the fence.
    â€œWhoa, Peaches,” Kurt said, his hand on the bridle.
    Sarah hung on for dear life and squeezed her eyes shut.
    â€œYou’re okay, Sarah. Relax while I adjust the stirrups.”
    Relax? She was sitting ten feet in the air on a moving creature that maybe didn’t want her there, apple treats or not.
    She opened one eye to see what Kurt was doing. “I don’t think I like this.”
    â€œYou’ll be fine.”
    He fussed with the stirrup, then slid her foot into it and moved to the other side to do the same. She could only see the top of his cowboy hat but she sensed he was smiling. Probably trying not to laugh his head off.
    â€œHow does that feel?” he asked.
    â€œLike I’m doing the splits. I think Peaches needs to go on a diet.”
    He did laugh then, but it wasn’t taunting laughter. More like a shared