LITMIR.BIZ

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your shoes off and walk him across the stream.”

      She pulled off her riding boots and socks. Colt did the same. Boots in hand, he went first with Jiango. The water wasn’t deep, but it moved fast. Jiango hesitated at the edge, but a firm tug on the reins had him moving forward.

      Cecily and Bacchus followed. The moment Bacchus’s hooves hit the running water, her horse jammed on the breaks and came to a grinding halt. Mouth set, Cecily walked back to him, stroked his neck and talked to him. By the time Alejandro and Jiango had reached the other side of the stream, Bacchus was cautiously making his way across.

      “Take the blindfold off,” he instructed when the pair walked up onto the bank.

      Cecily removed the blindfold. Bacchus eyed the stream, sniffed the water, ears flickering as he registered he was on the other side.

      “He knows he can trust you to get him to safety,” Alejandro explained. “Now take him back across without the blindfold.”

      Horse and rider picked their way across the stream, then back again, Bacchus’s confidence building with every step.

      Cecily stopped Bacchus at his side. “What now?”

      “We’ll give him some time to think about it. See if he’ll jump it on the way back.”

      She nodded. “It’s just so strange. This is his favorite place.”

      “He’s got something stuck in his head. Also,” he added, eyes on hers, “he’s absorbing your tension. I’ve been feeling it all week watching you ride. You’ve got to loosen up—change the dynamic between you two. Rebuild the trust.”

      She pushed her hair out of her face. “My coach doesn’t believe in any of this. You’re supposed to make the horse do what you want them to do.”

      “And that’s working for you?”

      Her eyes flashed. Lifting her chin, she nodded toward a path in the woods. “Lake’s this way.”

      * * *

      Cecily attempted to recapture her good mood as they walked the horses to her favorite picnic spot on the bank of the lake, but she was too agitated to manage it. For Bacchus to refuse a jump on his favorite ride was sucking what little hope she had left out of her that she would be ready to compete against the top riders in the world in just three weeks. It didn’t seem possible.

      She knew Colt was right, knew she needed to change the dynamic between her and Bacchus—she just didn’t know how.

      The sun at its midday peak, hot as the devil as her Grandmama Harper used to say, they tethered the horses in a shady spot under a tree. A mile wide, the lake was a stunning dark navy blue, bounded by forests of the deepest green. Quiet—eerily quiet except for the odd call of a bird or the splash of some water creature, it made her suddenly, inordinately aware of how very alone she and Colt were.

      Perhaps this hadn’t been such a good idea.

      She retrieved the picnic lunch she’d had a farm hand drop off earlier while Colt spread the blanket out on a flat stretch of grass. He sprawled on top of it, taking the containers she handed him, a visual feast for the eye in his threadbare jeans and navy T-shirt.

      Her thoughts immediately ventured into X-rated territory. She attempted to wrestle them back as she sorted out the lunch, but it proved almost impossible. He was a gorgeous male in the prime of his life, all coiled muscle and tensile strength, the effect he had on her core deep.

      Heart ticking faster, every inch of her skin utterly and irrefutably aware of him, she sat down on the blanket and served up the lunch of fried chicken and potato salad the cook had provided.

      Colt demolished it with a cold beer. Her appetite seemingly not in attendance, whether because of her misery or her intense awareness of the man beside her, she pushed her plate away and nursed the wine cooler she’d brought for herself, eyes on the water.

      Colt rolled up a towel from the basket and propped it behind his head, stretching out with feline grace in the baking sun. She noted the careful distance he kept between them, the wary glint in his eyes whenever he looked at her. And suddenly, felt like a fool.

      “I’m sorry I strong-armed you into coming up here with me.”

      He paused, beer bottle halfway to his lips. “I’m enjoying it. You were right—it’s amazing up here. I was surprised, though, you didn’t want to bring a friend.”

      “I don’t have any.” She gave a self-conscious shrug. “At least no real ones. My best friend, Melly, decided we weren’t friends anymore after I won the junior championship. I’m on the road so much, there’s really been no opportunity to make any new friends other than the people I compete with and those relationships only go so deep.”

      “That must get lonely.”

      “I’m better off with companionship of the four legged variety. Horses are endlessly loyal and they don’t talk back to me.”

      His mouth quirked. “They also can’t provide anything in the way of strength and solidarity.”

      She tipped her head to the side, curious. “Is that what your friends mean to you?”

      “A big part of it, yes. We go back to college, my best friends and I. We’ve been through some pretty amazing times together—both good and bad. There’s a bond there that’s unbreakable even with the distance between us. One of us needs something—the rest of us jump.”

      A pang went through her. She wished she had that. Someone who knew you so well you could just be yourself rather than what everyone else thought you should be. But she’d never been good at fostering those types of relationships.

      “That would be nice,” she said quietly, “to have friends like that.”

      He studied her for a long moment. “So Melly turned out to be a dud. Find someone else who deserves your friendship. You can’t spend every waking minute riding a horse.”

      “According to my coach that’s exactly what I should be doing.”

      “No,” he disagreed. “You shouldn’t. Success in life comes from opening yourself up to new horizons. Balance.” He lifted a brow. “What about boyfriends? You must have them.”

      “Too busy.”

      “Surely men pursue you?”

      She took a sip of her drink. Cradled the bottle between her hands. “My parents want me to marry Knox Henderson. He owns half of Texas. They keep throwing us together, but I have no interest.”

      “Why?” An amused glitter filled his gaze. “Is he unattractive? Too old? Too boring?”

      “He’s young, attractive and rich. And he knows it.”

      “What’s not to like about that? A woman needs a strong, successful man.”

      She rolled her eyes.

      “Did you even give him a chance?”

      “Define ‘give him a chance’.”

      “Did you kiss him?”

      “Yes. No spark.” She gave him a considering glance, having overheard Tommy’s earlier remark. “I know the bet the boys in the barn have going.”

      “What bet?”

      She waved a hand at him. “You don’t have to play dumb. They think I’m a cold fish. And maybe I am.”

      He rubbed a palm over his jaw. Eyed her. “Was this Knox even a good kisser?”

      “I’m sure many women would say yes. Not me. He’s coming to the barn party on Friday night. You’ll get to meet him then.”

      “About that,” he murmured. “It’s very nice of you to invite the staff but I have nothing to wear. I actually am Cinderella.”

      “You

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