The Sunstone Brooch : Time Travel Romance by Katherine Logan (i am reading a book TXT) 📕

TR gazed at her, one eyebrow slightly raised.

“I promise.” She crossed her heart. “If he rears up on me or tries to buck, and I can’t get him under control, I’ll pick out another one. But if I can ride him, I want to buy him. I know JC gave you money, but it’s not enough. I’ll double whatever he paid you.”

“I’ll never try to stop a determined woman. And your husband already paid me twice what I paid for him. Let me cull him from the herd.”

She jumped off the bottom fence rung. “Oh, please, let me. It’s important to respect the stallion’s boundaries. But he needs to understand I’m the dominant party in the relationship, that I can be trusted, and will treat him well.”

“Your husband might call me out over this.”

“Nah. He’s not a violent man.” Even as she said it, she wasn’t sure it was true. While she’d never seen JC get into a fight, he would never back down from one, either. She was sure of that. But kill a man, especially over something silly like letting her longe a horse? No way. “Can I find a pair of work gloves and a sturdy halter in the barn?”

“I’ll get the gloves and halter. Stay right here until I get back.” TR headed off toward the barn, muttering under his breath and slapping the rope against his thigh.

“And a longe whip if you have one,” she yelled as she opened the gate and entered the corral.

“Let’s see how hard you’re going to make this.” The stallion didn’t move. “I’m going to call you Tesoro, which means treasure in Italian.” She inched around the edge of the corral, speaking softly and not making any sudden moves. “You’re beautiful, Tesoro.”

He watched her. His ears were forward, and his dark eyes open and bright.

“You’re curious, aren’t you? Well, I’m curious about you, too. Why don’t you come over here, and we’ll get to know each other?”

“You know I won’t hurt you. Don’t you, Tesoro? You’re here for me. Erik brought you to me.” As she walked toward the stallion, she pulled out the apple she’d grabbed from the kitchen and used her Clovis Point to cut it into quarters. “I bet you’d like this.” He came to her, sniffed her hand, and scarfed up the section she offered.

“You like it, don’t you?” She held out another piece on her palm, and with her other hand, stroked his forehead. “You’re so beautiful. You’re mine, aren’t you?”

She fed him the other two pieces and then turned her back and walked away. She glanced over her shoulder. He was following her and nudged her back, gently shoving her forward. She grinned. “I don’t have any more apple pieces.”

She reached the fence, climbed up, and sat on the top rung. Tesoro stopped in front of her, and she continued stroking his head. “You’re not green at all, are you?”

I was born for this moment. A lifetime of training was all for this…

As she stroked Tesoro’s refined head and long ears, she realized her mistake. Tesoro wasn’t an Arabian. He was an Akhal-Teke. Here. In the Dakotas. A rare breed whose ancestry dated back thousands of years.

“You’re pure Akhal-Teke, aren’t you, answering to only one master? Even the smell of strangers will make you shy away. Yet you came right to me as if you already know my scent.”

The horse nibbled on her shoulder and head, grooming her, and then he breathed on her face, the ultimate sign of trust.

“Will you let me get on your back?”

In response, he rested his head on her thigh.

“I guess that’s a yes.”

She balanced on the fence and lowered her leg over his back. “Okay, boy. Let’s see what you can do.” He walked toward the gate without any cues from her. She leaned over and lifted the latch, and they left the corral, pausing so she could close the gate behind her.

Horseback riding was as second nature to her as driving a car. She cued Tesoro into a sitting trot just as TR came out of the barn. He stopped and stood there, as still as his Rough Rider statue at Oyster Bay. If he ordered her to dismount immediately, she’d race off in the opposite direction and pretend she didn’t hear him.

When she was comfortable on Tesoro’s back, she tightened her lower legs, and he picked up a canter. She forced herself to loosen her legs, and he slowed.

He responded immediately to her slightest movement, and she knew he was waiting for her next command. She liked him moving at a leisurely, rocking canter. A low fence loomed ahead. She cued him into a forward canter with a rhythm of one-two, one-two, then raised and bent her knees so she could grip his back with her inner thighs, and then lifted her weight, and Tesoro sailed over the fence.

“Good boy!”

They trotted toward the barn, exhilarated, and met TR standing in the open doorway, and somewhere during this magical moment, she remembered how much she loved ranch life.

She jumped down and hugged her horse, and then to TR said, “Isn’t he fantastic? His trot has a perfect amount of bounce, and his canter is steady and smooth. He’s so easy to ride.”

“Maybe for you, Mrs. Fraser, but he wouldn’t let anyone else come near him.” TR’s sharp-edged tone cut through Tesoro’s rapid breathing and flared nostrils. “I came out of the barn and saw you on his back, and I almost had heart failure.” He slapped his chest. “I thought for sure you were going to fall. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I had to remove my spectacles and clean them. I’ve never seen a horse take a jump like that.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“The accepted method of jumping is for the rider to sit back during the bascule phase and pull the horse’s head upwards.”

“And the first rule of good horsemanship,” she said,