Return to the Beach House by Georgia Bockoven

I fill you in on what to expect when we get there?”
    “Please. I’ve heard horses can smell fear.”
    He took her concern seriously. “Not fear so much as hesitancy. The horse expects you to know what you’re doing and gets nervous when you do things that let him know you’re a beginner.”
    “Like?”
    “Gasp, shriek, giggle, scream—making any loud sound when he does something that surprises you or that you’re not expecting. I’ve asked for their best beginner horse, and the woman I talked to described one that sounds perfect, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to put up with a lot of rookie mistakes.”
    “Such as?”
    He held up his hand and started counting off with his fingers. “One—clamping your legs against his sides like a vise because you’re afraid you’ll fall off. You’re looking for the same kind of balance you use on the surfboard. Brute force just throws the horse off his stride. Two—yanking the reins. This will really piss him off. He might put up with it a couple of times, but he won’t be happy. That doesn’t mean it’s never appropriate, just that you and the horse need to know it’s intentional and that you mean business. Three—it’s tempting, and feels natural, but don’t ride on the ball of your foot. Ride with your heels down. You’ll get in all kinds of trouble later if you don’t do this. Which is why I told you to wear boots with a heel that you can fit into the stirrup. Four—when you’re on his back, don’t look at the horse, look at where you’re going. Preferably pick a spot between his ears and then focus on the area thirty to forty feet in front of that. Five—don’t ever walk behind a horse without letting him know you’re there. In the wild, predators attack the back legs and thigh to bring the animal down, and then they go for the throat. If you surprise him, he’s going to try to protect himself and you’re going to wind up on your ass and possibly in the hospital.”
    “Makes sense.”
    “None of that makes you want to rethink getting on the back of a horse when you could be out riding a wave?”
    “Nope,” she answered, turning her face to the side window to hide the huge grin of anticipation she hoped he couldn’t see reflected in the glass.
    Christopher came up beside Grace and ran his hand down the flank of the horse she had been riding. She was still talking to Louis, the owner of the stable. After first asking him if he ever traded labor for lessons, she was now caught up in learning everything she could about the horse she’d just ridden. One ride and she was hooked. Louis insisted she was a natural. From the moment she was settled in the saddle, it was as if she’d always been there.
    Christopher had left when the negotiating started, eager to look at a couple of Danish warmbloods he’d spotted being worked in the back paddock. One was a chestnut with perfectly matched white stockings, the other an almost black bay with a small star in the middle of his forehead. Both were well over sixteen hands and had near-perfect conformation. Neither was on the list Christopher’s trainer had given him.
    He returned a half hour later and discovered Grace still in deep conversation with the owner. Christopher casually slipped the reins from Grace’s hand and started toward the barn.
    “Hold up,” Grace called, running after him. “I want to watch how the groom puts him away.” She hadn’t stopped grinning the entire time they’d been at the stable. “I know it’s not something they’ll let me do right away, but I might as well learn what’s expected.”
    “So you got the job?”
    She nodded.
    “Congratulations.” He handed the reins back to her. “When do you start?”
    “Not until August. I won’t get to do much with the horses until they see that I know what I’m doing, and I won’t get many hours until the people who work here throughout the summer go back to school. But I will get free lessons whenever they have an