Vicki Thompson Lewis

Feels Like Home


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their initial meeting she’d told him that he reminded her of Tom Selleck, especially with his graying mustache. Emmett had blushed. He was an old-fashioned cowboy, a modest man with a strong work ethic, and she admired that.

      He glanced up with a smile when she walked into the barn. “Hey, there. When do you want to schedule that roping lesson?”

      “I’m not sure yet, Emmett. I don’t know if you’ve heard that I volunteered to teach Rafe how to ride, assuming he hasn’t changed his mind since last night.”

      “I did hear that from Wyatt.” He gave a nod of approval. “Great idea.”

      “If he comes. Maybe he’s decided not to.”

      Emmett looked over her shoulder. “I think you’re in luck.”

      She turned and tried not to let her jaw drop. For a second she thought Jack had walked into the barn, but the stride was different and the jeans were blue denim, not the black that Jack favored. No telling where Rafe had dug up the jeans, shirt, boots and hat, but they fit him well.

      A little too well, in fact. Yesterday his dress shirt and slacks had partially disguised his build, but this outfit disguised nothing. The snug jeans showed off his muscled thighs and the shirt emphasized his broad chest.

      The borrowed hat was black. By accident or design, Rafe had tilted it at the right angle to make his dark eyes sexy and mysterious, exactly as she’d imagined they would be when shadowed by a hat. He looked amazing.

      He came to a stop in front of her and spread out his arms. “Will this do?”

      She had the inappropriate urge to move right into those outstretched arms in the hope he’d wrap them around her. “You should wear clothes like that more often.” Whoops. She’d said that out loud. “I mean, yes, that’ll do fine.”

      “Sarah rounded them up for me this morning.”

      “Did you eat any breakfast? I didn’t see you in the kitchen.”

      “I never eat breakfast. I grabbed a cup of coffee before I came down here. That’s all I need.”

      She didn’t think so. He might get away without breakfast when he sat in an office clicking computer keys, but his morning routine was about to shift dramatically toward fresh air and exercise. She decided against mentioning his need for real food because he probably wouldn’t believe her.

      Instead she turned to the foreman, who was watching them with thinly disguised amusement. “Emmett, which horse do you recommend for Rafe?”

      Emmett didn’t hesitate. “Destiny.”

      “I was thinking that, too.”

      Rafe shifted his weight and looked apprehensive. “‘Destiny’ sounds like the devil horse you put greenhorns on to test them.”

      “We wouldn’t do that, son.” Emmett clapped him on the shoulder. “You’ve come here with an honest desire to learn how to ride. If you’d bragged about your riding skill when we knew you didn’t have any, then we’d bring out the devil horse.”

      “Trust me, I have nothing to brag about when it comes to horses. I can deconstruct a stock offering in no time flat, but when it comes to mounting up and riding off into the sunset, I got nothin’.”

      Emmett reached for a halter hanging on the wall. “It’s not a bad place to start. You’re a blank slate with no bad habits. Meg, if you want to lead out Spilled Milk, I’ll fetch Destiny. Rafe, you come with me. I’ll show you how to put this on him.”

      Meg watched the two men head down the row of stalls. Emmett ambled along with the slightly bow-legged stride of a guy who’d spent most of his life in the saddle. Rafe moved with the grace of an athlete, but there was no cowboy in his walk yet. Even so, the view of a jeans-wearing Rafe from behind was outstanding. Life at the Last Chance had just become more scenic.

      DESPITE BEING ASSURED that Destiny wasn’t a powder keg ready to explode, Rafe studied the large brown-and-white animal from outside the stall. He wasn’t eager to get into a confined space with him.

      “Come on in, son. He won’t bite.”

      Rafe edged into the stall. “How much does he weigh?”

      “Around a thousand pounds, give or take.”

      “He must be pretty strong.”

      “Yes, but he’s trained to cooperate with you. Come closer so you can see how to halter him. You put this on in order to lead him out of the barn. Later you’ll take the halter off and replace it with a bridle, which provides your steering mechanism. Don’t worry. He’s used to all this, so he won’t put up a fuss.”

      “Right.” Taking a deep breath, Rafe approached Destiny. As Emmett put on the halter, Rafe ignored the enormous teeth and concentrated on Destiny’s deep brown eyes. He could see himself in the reflection there, and he looked like a cowboy, even if he didn’t feel like one.

      “See how that’s done?” Emmett finished with the halter, snapped a lead rope to a metal ring and handed over the rope. “Go ahead and lead him outside.”

      Before Rafe could object that he didn’t know enough yet, he found himself tramping back down the aisle between the stalls, towing a horse behind him. Emmett walked along, too, probably to make sure Rafe didn’t do anything stupid.

      “How long has Destiny been at the ranch?”

      “Let’s see. I guess it’s about twenty-four years, now.”

      “Yikes! I didn’t mean you had to give me a geriatric horse. Can he handle my weight?”

      Emmett chuckled. “Twenty-four’s not so old. Horses can live to be forty or more. Destiny was born when Jack was around ten, and he came up with that name for him. Thought it was real dramatic.”

      “So this is Jack’s horse?”

      “Not really. He’s a little too tame for Jack these days. Jack rides a black-and-white stallion named Bandit.”

      “Destiny isn’t a stallion?”

      “Not anymore.”

      “Oh.” Rafe was torn between relief that Destiny was a pushover and humiliation at being consigned to a horse with no balls, one that wasn’t spirited enough for Jack Chance.

      “Destiny’s a good starter horse,” Emmett said. “He has one bad habit, though. If you’re out on the trail and decide to climb off him, you’d better tie him up real good. He likes to work himself loose and head on home.”

      “I’ll remember that. But I think maybe I should just stay in the corral today, don’t you?”

      “Maybe for the first ten minutes, until you get the hang of it.”

      “I don’t think ten minutes will do the trick.”

      “You’ll be surprised at how fast you pick it up, son. Once you’re comfortable in the saddle, you and Meg should take ’em out and admire the scenery. We have a lot to look at around here.”

      “Yes, you do.” Rafe couldn’t argue with that. Coming out of the house this morning he’d been greeted with a spectacular view of the snowcapped Grand Tetons. Funny that his mother hadn’t mentioned the amazing scenery when she’d described the ranch. Lining rockers up on the front porch made a lot more sense when a person could sit and look at those mountains.

      When they emerged from the barn, Meg was already at the hitching post with her horse, the one he remembered from yesterday.

      “Just tie Destiny up next to Spilled Milk,” Emmett said. “I’ll get you a blanket, saddle and bridle.”

      “Thanks, Emmett.” Rafe walked the horse in a semicircle so he could approach the hitching post from the right angle and do a decent job of parallel parking next to the other horse.

      After