Hays stood behind his wife’s chair, his hand on her shoulder, and she reached up, clasping it. They shared a look, and Emma’s other hand went to her rounded belly.
What would it be like if it was Elise having a baby … his baby? Bowie rubbed his palms on his thighs. He hadn’t considered becoming a father, not since he awoke in the Fort Slocum hospital mangled and broken. But, surely a child raised with him from birth would grow accustomed to his scars and eye patch and not be terrified of him like most town kids were?
Of course, that would mean having a real marriage, something he had promised Elise he would never demand. He would never inflict his ugly self on any woman, much less one as beautiful and perfect as Elise. There was no chance he would ever be a father, none at all, and he should stop thinking such ridiculous things.
The riding lesson drove Bowie crazy. And all because Elise was so sweet and earnest.
“This is Sugar. At least that’s what Calvin said he named her. You can change it if you want. I doubt it will matter to the horse.” Bowie carried his mother’s sidesaddle and bridle to the corral where he’d left the horses. His own horse, a brown gelding the cowhands had named Burlap for his raspy personality, trotted over and snorted, shaking his head and making his mane flop. Bowie liked the rangy horse, who wasn’t much to look at but who was smart and tireless and had forgotten more about cow work than most cowboys would ever know.
The mare sniffed Elise’s hand and lowered her head for a pat on the neck. “She’s lovely. Sugar is the perfect name.”
Bowie entered the corral, pushing Burlap out of the way. “Wait your turn.” He smoothed the saddle blanket on Sugar’s back and placed the saddle atop it. “Calvin said she hadn’t been ridden in a while, so I had Gage knock some of the dust off her yesterday. I would’ve done it myself, but she’s not up to my weight.”
He tightened the girth in stages. Sugar flicked her tail, but submitted to the bridle.
“She’s so pretty. I love her long lashes.” Elise turned into the breeze, brushing a stray strand of hair off her cheek. She wore a dark green riding habit, an outfit that Bowie hadn’t seen before, and he admired the way it hugged her curves, flaring just right over her hips, reminding him once again what a beautiful woman he’d married. She must’ve brought the outfit with her to change into. Smart.
Sunlight glinted on her hair, pink rode her cheekbones, and she wore an expectant expression, as if setting out on some great adventure. How had she survived so unspoiled after so many years under her domineering uncle?
He made quick work of saddling Burlap and tied him to the corral fence.
“What do I do?” She tugged on a pair of brown, leather gloves.
“Come here.” He showed her how to gather the reins, and then put his hands on her waist. “Ready?”
She nodded, and he lifted her easily into the saddle. “Put your left foot in the stirrup, and your right knee goes here, on the pommel.”
Sugar stood rock still. Bowie grasped the reins near the bit. “I’ll lead her around a little so you can get the feel of her. All right?”
Elise nodded.
“It’s okay to grab some of her mane if you want. She won’t mind.” He led the mare in a slow circle. “Try to feel the rhythm of her movement. Relax and sway with her.”
“It feels so odd. I’ve never been on a horse before.”
Bowie tried to imagine what that was like, but he couldn’t. Pa had taught him to ride almost as soon as he could walk, and he didn’t remember a time when he didn’t know how. He glanced over his shoulder at her. She was concentrating, her body moving with the horse. After two rounds of the corral, he let go of the reins and stepped back. “Lift your reins, cluck your tongue, and press your heel into her side a bit.”
Sugar responded beautifully, but it was Elise’s smile that shook Bowie. Pure happiness. As she directed the mare in a circle around the pen, she beamed. “I’m doing it.”
Bowie went to his horse and swung aboard. “You ready to try it outside the corral?”
“As long as you’re with me, I’ll try anything.”
He couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm, and the warmth in her look sent sparks across his skin. “Let’s go home.”
The trip took much longer than it would’ve taken Bowie alone, because he refused to let her go faster than a trot. “You’re not ready to ride for the Pony Express yet. When you’ve mastered a walk and a trot and you can get your mount to go where you want to when you want to, then you can canter.”
She made a face at him. “Then you’d better clear your schedule and make time for more lessons. I want to be able to ride out with you and go to town if I want to and visit your family, and I don’t want it to take all day to get there.”
“I didn’t realize how determined you were. At this rate, you’ll be riding like a Comanche in no time.”
Their house finally came into view, and Bowie was a bit sorry. He wasn’t ready for the lesson to end.
Gage stepped out of the barn, wiping his hands on a rag. “Evening, Boss, ma’am.”