“Right. Trevor.” Sabrina shook her head with a smile. “Guess I’m going to have to remember my own rules in addition to yours.”

  “I’ll let you do her other side on your own,” he said. “Once you’re finished, we’ll hose her down and towel her dry.”

  Trevor moved into the back room to get the right hose head. When he stepped back out, he paused in the doorway to watch Sabrina work. She had to rise up on the toes of her formerly pristine cowboy boots to reach Peggy’s back, but she seemed determined to leave no spot unscoured. That is going to be one clean horse, Trevor mused as he rejoined them. Can’t imagine old Peg’s ever been so spoiled in her life.

  He didn’t take his eyes off Sabrina as his hands worked to attach the spray nozzle to the hose, admiring the swing of her ponytail, the glow of her skin. She’d be a distraction, no two ways about that, with her tempting sprays of freckles and her too-tight pants. He guessed he could live with that, at least for the time being.

  “Here.” He passed the hose to her. “Dial it back and let her get used to the temp before you spray her down fully.”

  “Are you sure this is on?” Sabrina squinted at the nozzle. “Hang on, is the dial supposed to go this way, or is it backward?”

  There it was. The return to normalcy he needed, the challenge to his knowledge he had been holding his breath for all morning. Trevor didn’t know whether to feel annoyed or relieved at its reappearance now.

  “It’s on the right way,” he said. He crossed his arms and shifted his weight to one hip. “You think I haven’t done this multiple times a day for the better part of fifteen years?”

  “Well, I’m pulling the trigger and no water’s coming.” Sabrina held the hose out of the way when he reached for it. “Hey, give me a minute. I’m not trying to start a fight. I’m just saying the safety reads ‘off,’ but the hose isn’t spraying. There’s got to be a blockage somewhere.”

  Sabrina turned the nozzle toward her face to study it again as Trevor backed off. The reason for the lack of water flow hit him: he hadn’t turned it on at the spigot. He spun on his heel, fighting the urge to slap his forehead at the oversight. Not your fault, he told himself as he crouched to twist the faucet on. You’re not used to having a woman around. You’re distracted.

  A wild gasp of breath from behind him caused his head to swivel in alarm. Whatever had just happened to Sabrina, she had suppressed the instinct to scream to avoid startling Peggy. As it was, the mare was throwing her head back and yanking at the lead rope. Clearly something had spooked her while his back was turned.

  “What is it?” He was on his feet and all but running to Sabrina’s side. “Did she bite you? Are you hurt?”

  Sabrina turned to face him, ice-blue eyes round with shock. Water streamed down her face and dripped from her lashes. “No! No, I’m fine. Honestly!” She gave a little laugh at her own expense and put her hands up. “It’s totally my fault. I was aiming it right at myself when you…”

  Trevor glanced downward to reassure himself she was fine, and his gaze caught on her chest. Her lovely, wet chest.

  Sabrina’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “What? What is it?” She glanced down and soon saw for herself what the trouble was. Her white T-shirt was plastered against the front of her frame and transparent all the way down to her navel. Her bra and the swell of her breasts beneath it stood out on display.

  The bra was such a blinding shade of hot pink he was surprised he hadn’t noticed it through the shirt before, even when it was dry. The shirt was such an ineffective buffer against the outside world now that he could have reached out and traced the lacework design through it with his finger, his whole hand…

  Sabrina’s chin shot up so quickly she probably gave herself whiplash. Only after her arms came up to cover herself did the spell on Trevor break. He blinked and met her eyes.

  “I…” she stammered. “Um…” She clutched herself and shivered, and looked away.

  “Wait there.”

  For once she listened to him. Trevor snatched his Carhartt off the stable door and whipped it around her shoulders. The jacket was almost big enough to engulf her, and she pulled it closed with a grateful sigh.

  “Thank you,” she said after a moment. “Looks like my other shirt didn’t escape the torrent, either.” She gazed forlornly at the wet heap her flannel had become.

  “This was still a good idea,” Trevor said.

  “How do you figure?” Sabrina reached out to pat Peggy’s neck. “Peggy’s freaked out instead of relaxed, and I’m staging a one-woman wet T-shirt contest.” Sabrina’s cheeks had gone pink, and she couldn’t seem to meet his eyes. Trevor resisted the temptation to hook his thumb under her chin and make her look up.

  “That was an accident,” he said. “It won’t happen again. Everything before that went fine. Didn’t you think?”

  Sabrina peered up at him, a faint spark in her eye. “Just fine? Not great?”

  “Somewhere in between.” Trevor’s mouth quirked up. “You’re a natural with Peggy, but you still need some practice.”

  “That’s fair,” said Sabrina, and her warm smile was back. Trevor turned away to hide his answering grin.

  “You’ll want to go get changed,” he said. “I’ll finish up here with Peggy. And I’ll get you a list of tasks our guests could do around the ranch. The horses won’t need washing every day. And you’ll need some variety to keep them entertained.”

  “A list would be nice,” Sabrina said.

  This time, Trevor couldn’t hide his startled laugh. “Now, there’s one sentence I never thought I’d hear you say.”

  “Me neither,” said Sabrina. She raised her blue eyes to meet his at last. “Thank you, Trevor.” She stepped away from Peggy, closer to him. Her slender hand found his shoulder and she gave it a squeeze of gratitude. “At the very least, thank you for not giving me a hard time about all this. It’s a bit of a learning curve, but you’re a great teacher.”

  A learning curve. Trevor nearly laughed again. Curves were all he could think about as he watched Sabrina turn and stride quickly from the stable. The Carhartt did nothing to conceal the swell of her hips, her round derrière in wet skinny jeans.

  “I’m in trouble,” he muttered. “Aren’t I, Peg?”

  Peggy rocked her head up and down and snorted.

  5

  SABRINA

  “All right, Sabrina,” Sabrina whispered to herself. “You can do this.”

  A week and several of Trevor’s lengthy checklists later, and she found herself striding across the dewy front lawn of Wildhorse, about to address her first group of “visitors” to the ranch. The glamping program was still in the testing phases, of course, which was why she had asked Trevor’s help in gathering together some of the locals to try out a selection of activities.

  That was partly why she felt so nervous as she approached the loose knot of people assembled in the driveway. City folks out of their element and looking to her for advice on how to have a good time? She could handle them. But these people were locals—tanned, rangy, and unlikely to be fazed by a single thing she had to say to them. They probably knew more about the activities they were about to participate in than she did, so it was up to her to put a unique spin on things and make them as fresh and enjoyable as possible.

  The heels of her boots crunched across the gravel. Everyone turned to look at her, and she did a quick head count. Ten. Not bad at all, Trevor. She stopped in front of them, held her arms out, and greeted them all with a cheery smile.

  “Hello, glampers, and welcome to—”

  A hand shot up in the crowd, slicing through her introduction like a knife. Sabrina blinked. She hadn’t counted on fielding participant questions this early—that was, immediately—but she knew how to roll with the punches. She retired her clipboard to her hip, broadened her smile encouragingly, and pointed into the crowd. “Yes? You in the back, did you have a question?”

  “What’s a glamper?” the woman asked.

  “It ain’t a real word,” the older man beside her said. “It’s one of those newfangled words, like selfie.”

  “Well, that’s…I’m so glad you asked that question, actually!” Sabrina said, hoping the boisterous volume of her voice would be enough to drown out any further answers from folks trying to be helpful. “Glamping combines two words: glamorous and camping. We’ve all gathered here this week to experience life on a ranch as—”

  “Wait, we’re going to be doing this for a whole week?” someone else piped up. “Trevor said you only needed us for the afternoon.”

  “Yes. I apologize.” Sabrina’s smile didn’t budge an inch. “I appreciate that you folks were kind enough to volunteer your time as stand-ins for me this afternoon. Please excuse me if I lapse into my normal monologue; our future guests will be with us for longer vacations.”

  A ripple of conversation went through the small crowd. She could have sworn she heard the word “vacation” echoed several times in varying tones of disbelief. Her cheeks heated a little, but she kept her posture straight. Of course, the locals wouldn’t understand the more charming aspects of the existences they led from day-to-day—but maybe, just maybe, she could give them a new, glamorous perspective on their normal lives.

  “Howdy, Trevor,” one of the men on the edge of the crowd called. Sabrina’s heart stumbled, and she turned to see Trevor strolling down the driveway from the main house. His strides were relaxed and easy, and maybe even the slightest bit bowlegged, but he carried himself with an undeniable sexiness that never failed to stop her in her tracks. Trevor halted beside her, and the next part of the monologue she had prepared flew from her mind.

  Should have made a checklist, Sabrina thought ruefully. There’s no way you’ll get back on track now with Trevor Wild standing beside you.

  “Mornin’, folks. Mornin’, Sabrina,” the rancher greeted her. God, she loved the way he rolled her name around his mouth.

  Wait, did she really just think that? She didn’t have the spare brain power to devote to this right now! She was already off to a rocky start. If she wanted to get back on track, she’d have to make her pitch count.

  “Thank you for joining us, Mister…I mean, Trevor.” She corrected herself with a smile and a blush, and thumbed through the papers on her clipboard, though there was nothing in the schedule she needed to check. She had everything memorized already. The fact that Trevor was standing so close, looking so good, had her head full of pink clouds of cotton candy.

  “So today, glampers, we’re going to start you off small,” Sabrina began again, adding an extra layer of cheer. “If you’d be so good as to follow me out to the west stable block—” She indicated the direction with a sweep of her hand, but found the group had already turned as one and started walking. “Trevor has set aside a small arena for our use. We’re going to be watching one of our ranch hands, Pete, join up with one of our newer horses.”

  “Join up?” one of the women echoed. Sabrina nodded.

  “Yes…yes!” She hustled to keep at the head of the group, turning to walk backwards as she explained, “Allow me to address what I mean by that! The process of joining up with a horse is an imperative part of establishing a working, loving relationship with your horse. Horses are herd animals naturally, and mutual trust between a horse and their handler is a key ingredient to the animal’s safety and comfort. A display of dominance lets them know that there is a strong, protective personality watching over them. This allows the horse to relax.”

  Sabrina shot a tentative look toward Trevor. She didn’t know what she was expecting—an enthusiastic thumbs-up, maybe, in return for her grasp of the premise—but the rancher’s stoic expression only gave way to the faintest of smiles. She would take it.

  “I know what joining up is,” the woman explained to her. “But why is this something you want us to watch?”

  “Yeah! Joining up’s boring,” a younger boy beside her volunteered.

  Sabrina was starting to feel the strain of the smile she was holding. “Well, I can guarantee you that most of our guests coming in from the city have never seen or even heard of it before. Heck, we may even get some visitors who have never seen a real live horse.”

  “That’s stupid!” The boy chuckled.

  “Not stupid. Just…different,” Sabrina said as she steered him toward the fence. “Not everyone was as lucky as I was when I was a kid. I got to see horses every time I visited my grandparents.”

  As she spoke, she could feel Trevor’s eyes on her. It wasn’t the first time she found herself wondering what he thought of her take on things. Did he think she was naïve for thinking herself lucky? Did he secretly think this whole operation was doomed, and that no one would ever see things the way she did? Would she have to prove him wrong, on top of showing everyone else in the group that their lives were filled with excitement and value that others would be willing to pay for?

  Better not to think about it and to focus on the present.

  “Hey, Pete.” Sabrina waved to the ranch hand leaning on the fence. He returned her greeting with a cool tip of his hat. “Who do you have for us today?”

  “This is Tex,” Pete announced. He jerked his thumb toward the young quarter horse beside him, a gelding with a shiny chestnut coat. “Me and him, we’re about to join up. Care to watch?”

  “Do we have to?” one of the kids whined.

  Yes! You have to! Sabrina wanted to shout. Instead, she redirected her aggressive energy into clutching her clipboard and smiling so hard her teeth ground together. Trevor is counting on you, she reminded herself. Don’t let him down.

  “All right, everyone, if you’ll please look to the arena, Pete is about to begin his demonstration,” she said. Pete nodded and vaulted into the dirt ring. The ranch hand moved to the center; as if on cue, Tex began to trot around the perimeter. Pete demonstrated how, with a few clicks of his tongue and motions with the unattached lead rope, he could get Tex to turn on a dime and start back the other way. Sabrina, who had never seen this sort of training herself, was enraptured by the easy communication between man and horse.

  But her stand-in glampers were less enthused. Several of the men had turned slightly away from the arena as they chatted about the weather, and some of the women had their chins in their hands and appeared lost in even deeper discussion with one another.

  Sabrina’s patience snapped. “Everyone,” she shouted. “If you wouldn’t mind keeping some of the chatter down, I’m sure Pete and Tex would appreciate your cooperation!”

  “It’s all right.”

  A gentle hand covered her white-knuckled fist, and Trevor extracted the clipboard from her grip before she could splinter it. “It was a good idea. I think you should keep it. You’re going to get different folks in and out of here, and all of them are going to react differently to the activities.”

  Sabrina blushed. It wasn’t the first time she’d had the feeling Trevor was using his skills as a horseman to soothe her, but she appreciated the gesture more than she could say. As acutely aware as she was that Wildhorse’s future rested on her shoulders, she didn’t feel so alone with Trevor at her back.

  She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, inhaling sweet, fresh air and exhaling frustration. The thing was, with horses, you’d sometimes fall off, but you had to get back on, and do it right away. If you didn’t, that fall would be all you remembered, not the thrill of riding, not the wind in your hair. She couldn’t let today end with an undignified fall.

  “Okay,” she whispered, then louder—”Okay!” She plastered her smile back on and turned to face the crowd. Trevor was right: she’d be getting all types. She’d need to roll with them if she wanted to succeed.

  “You’re all horse people,” she said. “You’ve all got horses, right?”

  A rumble of assent sounded from the group.

  “All right, while Pete puts Tex through his paces, I’d love to hear everyone’s best horse stories.”

  The crowd eyed her doubtfully, but Sabrina smiled. “I’ll start. When I was five, I went to my grandparents’ ranch. I had a pocket full of sugar cubes, one for each horse, and I was going down the line, feeding each one. When I got to the last horse, this chicken ran by. It was clucking like crazy, and I turned to watch, and that last horse got mad she never got her treat. She snatched the hat off my head, flung it in her trough, and nosed it down good to make sure it got soaked.”

  That got her a laugh, and the kid from before raised his hand.

  “I’ve got one,” he said.

  “Yeah? What’s your name?”

  “Dale,” said the kid. “And my mare is Clover. And one time, she threw me off right in a cowpat.”

  Sabrina laughed. “That’s hilarious. Anyone else?”

  The adults got into it, sharing their own tales of woe, along with a couple of touching stories that made Sabrina’s eyes water. Even Trevor was smiling when she chanced a peek. With the ice broken, she raised her hands for quiet.

  “So, now we all know each other, and we know we love horses, I want to go around and take a kind of vote.” She gestured for Trevor to return her clipboard, nerves crackling anew. “I’m going to call out ideas, and you’ll call ‘yay’ or ‘boo’—yay if it’s something you’d like to do, boo if it’s boring and I need to try again.”

  Some of the adults exchanged glances. Dale bounced excitedly on the balls of his feet. Sabrina steeled herself. Well, here goes nothing.

  “Horseshoe decorating?”

  A chorus of boos went up. Sabrina tried not to flinch.

  “Okay, that’s a no. How about nail art?”

  This time, Sabrina got a couple of boos, but most of the locals just looked confused.

  “We’d paint each other’s fingernails with a ranch theme. I’ve got horse decals, horseshoes, rhinestones, cowboy hats—”

  “I’d do that,” said one woman. “If I was going dancing. But I’m mending fences tomorrow, so boo on the nails.”