Something Borrowed

Chapter 30

Amelia

"Ames, you're bein' difficult."

"I am not!"

"Yes you are. It's not that hard."

"That's easy for you to say!" she snapped back, hiking her skirts up and lifting her leg to fit her boot into the stirrup. She gripped the front of the worn leather saddle with her left hand and the back with her right and--

"Ames, wait," Josh's stern voice interrupted her, and she glared over her shoulder. He leaned sideways against the fence, one elbow propped on the top rail, looking gratingly casual and relaxed while she sweated and struggled. He tipped his chin toward the saddle. "Where do your hands go?"

"Arrogant, insufferable know-it-all..." she grumbled under her breath, adjusting her grip so that her left hand was wrapped in the horse's withers. In fairness, he had been fairly clear in his instructions. If she only gripped the saddle she ran the risk of pulling it straight off the horse's back when she hoisted herself up. So she had to grab a fistful of this poor creature's hair, which Josh swore didn't hurt it a bit, in order to haul her weight up. Ridiculous. Who's idea was it to do this, anyway?

"You're the one who wanted to learn to ride," he pointed out with a one-shouldered shrug, as if listening to her thoughts. "It's not my fault you're a poor student."

"I'm an outstanding student," she huffed back, giving two practice hops before heaving her body up. This time, she actually got some distance off the ground and had just begun swinging her leg up to clear the horse's back when her weight took over. With a squeak, she fell backwards. Instead of toppling into the dirt, she landed in two strong arms, holding her tight against a chest that rumbled with laughter.

"That was better than last time," he offered, setting her on her feet. She had to resist the urge to wrap her arms around his neck and play a distressed damsel just to stay there a moment longer.

"It's my skirts," she said, her face burning with embarrassment and desire as she straightened her dress.

"Sure," he said, nodding with a smile that told her he was aware of her lies as she was. "Perhaps tomorrow you should wear trousers."

She gaped at him. "That wouldn't be appropriate, Josh. How would you feel if one of the men saw me?"

"The men don't come up here unless I tell them to," he said with another infuriating, effortless shrug. "Anyway, I don't think it's your skirts. You just gotta give it a good try."

"I'm not strong enough."

"I've seen you haul Reb around, honey. You're not weak."

"Reb is a baby! She weighs hardly anything! Can't you just give me a boost up like you've been doing all week?" she pleaded, fluttering her eyelashes in her best approximation of wanton flirtation. His grin widened, and he turned her around, grasped her hips, and...

... pushed her toward the horse.

"Mount up, Amelia. I'm not helping you."

She glared and shoved him away, and he resumed his position by the fence, this time hopping up onto the top rail and bracing his elbows against his knees. On the first try, she barely boosted herself high enough to see over the horse's back. On the second, she got her right knee up to the saddle before losing her balance and slumping back down. On the third, she gave three good practice hops, gripped the withers with one hand and the saddle with the other, shoved hard off the ground with her right leg, stepped up with her left foot in the stirrup, swung her right leg up and over. And squealed with delight as her bottom landed with a thump on the worn leather of the saddle.