Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 128313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
“Nice to meet you, Huxley.”
Mila gently handed me my hat, watching me closely as she did so. Clearly, my somewhat unorthodox introduction to Huxley had fascinated her. I would need to speak to Mila soon. I was a hands-on rider and liked to do much of the warm-ups and prep myself. I knew that wasn’t common in this industry, and I’d gotten many a side-eye or degrading whisper on the circuit over the years for lunging my horses myself, dressed in my favorite cowboy boots, barn jacket, and Stetson. I didn’t care. The cowgirl in me wouldn’t have it any other way. I was here for the horses, not the pomp and ceremony.
“Have a good ride,” Mila said.
I squeezed her arm, then used the mounting block to get on Huxley’s back. The minute I did, I felt the strength of the stallion beneath me but sensed the calmness within him too. Huxley was a thinker, he was intelligent. He wasn’t bottled fire like Seraphina. He was controlled and measured and exactly the kind of horse I loved to ride.
I gently kicked him on and smiled when we moved easily into a trot, then a steady canter. Riding Huxley was like being taken along a lazy river, relaxing and smooth, but you could feel the strength swirling under the surface. A current that could be too strong if not respected.
Turning to the jump, I slackened the reins and let Huxley fly. A low laugh slipped from my throat as we left the ground and landed softly, easily clearing the fence, and I kept my seat perfectly. I pulled Huxley to a reluctant halt in front of Leon, Sage, Mila, and Horatio. Leaning forward, I laid my cheek on Huxley’s neck and stroked him a few times. “Good boy,” I murmured over and over, loving the sight of Huxley’s ears twitching back and forth at the sound of my voice.
“Perfect,” Leon said, and I caught the excitement in his eyes. “What did you think?”
“I love him,” I said, and Leon nodded his head. I could tell he had felt we were a perfect pair too. Leon showed his might as a trainer with these couplings alone. He’d studied us, and he must have known each of the Knighton horses incredibly well to choose a rider and horse that were so well matched.
“Then we have our pairings,” Leon said, and Sage moved Seraphina close to me. “He’s beautiful,” she said, gesturing to Huxley.
I smiled. “I’ve never seen a horse suit you more than this firecracker,” I said. Almost on cue, Seraphina stomped her front right foot, impatient at standing around doing nothing. This mare needed to constantly move.
Unbothered, Sage ruffled her hands through Seraphina’s thick chestnut mane. “Redheads,” Sage said, shrugging. “Gotta love ’em!”
I laughed, then spent the next couple of hours on Huxley, getting to know him as he got to know me. And it was strange, because in those two hours, I never felt the bite of the bitter-cold wind once.
I’d never been a good sleeper. I theorized it was from my childhood on the ranch. Early mornings and late nights meant I was used to functioning on very little rest. On top of that, the excitement of meeting Huxley today, mixed with the lingering jet lag, made for a restless night. I glanced at the clock beside me and saw it read just after midnight.
Rather than tossing and turning for hours, I threw back the covers and dressed in thermal jeans, a warm base layer underneath a red plaid shirt, and a thick equine robe. Pulling on my Stetson, gloves, and my well-worn cowboy boots, I slipped out the cottage door and made my way to the barn where Huxley was housed.
Golden Oaks was a stunning equestrian center by anyone’s measure, but under the full moonlight, the lawns tipped with frost, and the huge pond with a fountain water feature in the center, it looked truly magical. The grass crunched under my feet as I took the shortcut over two fields to the barn.
The main house was in full view from this vantage point. Low lights glowed on the outside porch, and a few windows were dimly lit behind light drapes. Other than that, the only soundtrack of the night was nocturnal owls in trees and the shuffling of horses’ shod feet as they shifted in their stalls, their huffs of breath hitting frozen air.
The barn where Huxley was housed came into view. It was a stunning Dutch barn painted in white with black beams, smaller than many around the property, but big enough to hold around ten horses. Huxley and Seraphina were in this one. An indoor jumping arena was attached to the side for quick access, but that was out of bounds for some reason. We riders used the other arenas just a short walk from the barn.