Hero for Hire Read online

  “Good morning.” Her gaze dropped immediately to my feet. Her brows rose before she brought her eyes up to meet mine.

  “Problem?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “No. Just surprised.”

  “That I followed your instructions and wore boots today the way you asked me to?” I asked, surprised myself.

  Did she really assume I was that inept? Judging by how she looked at me sometimes, I had a feeling I really didn’t want to know the answer to that.

  “No. Well, yes, maybe. A little. But what surprised me is the kind of boots,” she said, glancing at them again.

  I looked down at the boots I wore to ride my motorcycle. I’d figured riding was riding. If they worked for a Harley, they should work for a horse.

  I supposed I’d be wearing cowboy boots in the movie, but that would be up to the costume department. I wasn’t going to rush into wearing them before I had to.

  I looked down and pivoted my foot to evaluate the heel.

  “These going to be okay?” I asked and glanced up at my still shocked looking teacher.

  “Yeah. They’re fine. Come on. We’ve got horses to turn out.”

  Just as I’d thought. More horse walking and that was fine with me. The longer my boots remained on terra firma the better.

  “All right.” I nodded and followed her to the next stall, stopping short when I saw which horse was inside.

  Pausing, I glanced at Maisie and waited, hoping if I held back, she’d take the crazy black stallion out. Then I’d get the next horse down the row—good old Avis with the cloudy eye.

  She tipped her chin toward the stallion. “You can go ahead and take Lucifer out.”

  A laugh burst out of me at hearing the horse’s name for the first time. “Lucifer? That figures.”

  “Problem?” she asked when I didn’t jump right to do as she’d said.

  “Nope. No problem.” Resigned to my fate, I drew in a bracing breath and reached for the halter. I shot her a glance. “Why don’t you just leave the halters on them instead of taking them off and putting them back on?”

  I figured I’d ask her before I went into the stall, in case I died in there.

  “You sleep in your clothes?” she asked with a good dose of bad attitude.

  “Not usually. No,” I answered even though I knew her question was rhetorical, just to prove her point, or perhaps my ignorance.

  “And when you exercise, would you ever wear jeans and a belt?”

  “No.” I sighed as she continued to press the point. “Okay. I get it. It’s more comfortable for the horses if the halter is off.”

  “Yes. Also, the halter causes bald spots where it rubs if left on too long. And it can get caught when they rub on the fencing.”

  Hmm. Her tone had changed. As she explained that last part she was completely different.

  I had a feeling this was the real Maisie Holtz—teacher. And I was pretty sure this was the first time I was seeing her.

  So there was another side to this woman. A part that was patient and wanted to impart knowledge to her students.

  I liked it but I wasn’t going to dare show her that. I had a bad feeling she wouldn’t like my getting a glimpse of the real her.

  For whatever reason she seemed determined to keep me on the other side of the wall she’d erected between us.

  Maybe when Lucifer landed me in the hospital, Maisie would let that sweet side show again. It might almost make it worth it.

  Bringing my focus back to Lucifer so I wouldn’t die, I watched for any sudden movements on the horse’s part as I eased open the stall door and sidled inside.

  Eyeing the stallion, who was doing the same thing to me, I slowly slipped the halter over his nose.

  “Hey, buddy. Want to go outside and play?” I spoke softly hoping it would calm the animal as I moved the halter up his muzzle.

  The whites of the animal’s eyes were showing as he lifted his head high, trying to avoid the halter going over his ears.

  Who said animals were dumb? I certainly never would again. The damn horse knew exactly what to do to make my task more difficult. Near impossible.

  At least its head was still facing me. It was the ass end I worried most about—the kicking end.

  If I weren’t over six feet tall, I’d never have been able to reach high enough to slip the halter over the beast’s head. As it was I had to stand on tiptoe to manage it, but I did it and hooked the strap under his chin before the thing managed to pull out of the contraption.

  I hadn’t missed the amusement in Maisie’s expression yesterday afternoon when I’d come flying out of Lucifer’s stall, pulling in my ass to avoid a kick in the pants when the horse spun around on me. And I knew damn well she was watching me now.

  Determined to redeem myself today, I faced the horse with all the courage I’d used to face champions in the ring, even knowing I’d likely end up getting my ass kicked—though then, unlike now, it wouldn’t have been literally.

  I hooked the lead rope to the halter and bunched up the rope in my right fist the way I saw Maisie do yesterday.

  Feeling like a champion after my small victory, I opened the stall door with my left hand and led Lucifer out and all the way to the paddock.

  It wasn’t hardly anything. Just a short walk across a field, but I came back sporting a wide grin and feeling a huge sense of accomplishment . . . then I came face to face with Maisie and second-guessed everything.

  What was it about her that threw me so off balance?

  She planted one hand on her hip and said, “Proud of yourself?”

  “Yes. Actually, I am.” And I wasn’t embarrassed to say so.

  Then she smiled and it nearly took me off my feet. Part from the shock. Part from the way her face lit with a brightness that took her from pretty to breathtaking.

  Maybe we’d turned a corner in our teacher-student relationship.

  “Glad you two are getting along. I’ll put you up on him later.” She watched me expectantly.

  Wait. What? Shit. I felt the blood drain from my face. “Um, seriously?”

  She laughed and I couldn’t tell if it was good natured or mean spirited as I got more confused about the state of our relationship.

  “Don’t get too cocky, Hollywood. That horse is just waiting for you to let your guard down so he can show you he’s the boss instead of you.”

  That actually sounded like good advice, but I would have appreciated if she’d delivered it without the condescending nickname and not while laughing at me.

  I folded my arms over my chest and decided to face this thing head on. “Why do you hate me?”

  She looked me dead in the eye and said, “I don’t hate you.”

  “You certainly don’t like me.” I snorted.

  “That bothers you, doesn’t it?” she asked.

  I hadn’t been expecting the question. But now that she asked it, I realized she was right. “Yeah, it does.”

  “You’ll get over it. Now come on. We have to get the rest of these guys turned out so I can get you up in a saddle today.”

  That ended my worry over how she felt about me as a new concern took over.

  “On Lucifer?” I asked.

  My reaction apparently tickled her as she grinned again.

  “No. Not on Lucifer.” She sobered. “As much as I would enjoy seeing that, I don’t have enough insurance on this place to survive you and your high priced lawyers suing me if you get hurt.”

  I frowned. “I wouldn’t sue you.”

  She lifted a brow. “No? Even if I believed that, your studio might.”

  That stopped me in my tracks. She could be right. The studio seemed to own me, at least until the movie was done.

  “So who am I going to ride?” I crossed my fingers and prayed for Avis.

  “Stardust.” She watched me as she said the name, and continued to study me with an intense stare that made it hard to hold eye contact, but impossible to break it.

  “Stardust.”
I repeated.

  The name was familiar. Maybe she’d mentioned it yesterday when we’d brought in the horses.

  As she folded her arms and continued to glare at me, realization hit. It hit me like a lightning bolt.

  How had I not seen it before? That was the same hate-filled stare she’d shot at me through the windshield of my vehicle on the studio lot. Right after I’d almost run over her and Stardust.

  Without the baseball hat on I hadn’t recognized her. Besides the fact we were over an hour away from the lot. I hadn’t even thought to make the connection between my teacher in Norco and the stock handler in Hollywood.

  “It’s you,” I breathed, wide eyed, knowing now she’d recognized me at first sight yesterday while it had taken me two lessons to figure it out.

  Folding her arms, she let out a sniff. “Yes, it is.”

  All I could hope was that Stardust didn’t recognize me too, and if she did, that horses didn’t hold a grudge the way their owners did.

  SEVEN

  MAISIE

  “Always mount from the horse’s left side.”

  His snort of a laugh had me pausing in my instruction. “Problem?”

  “No.” He covered his mouth but I could still see the smile reaching all the way to his eyes.

  With a sigh, I said, “Tell me.”

  He shook his head. “Nope. It’s nothing. So, you said the left side?”

  Willing to ignore his weirdness to get on with the lesson, I nodded. “Yes. Everything is done from the left side of the horse. Leading. Mounting—” I saw him biting his lip and narrowed my eyes. “What’s going on?”

  He burst out laughing and had to control himself before he could answer. “I’m sorry. It’s ridiculous. But for some reason the word mount is cracking me up. I apologize. Seriously.”

  Brows raised, I watched a grown man reduced to giggles like a middle school boy over a word. He visibly tried to control himself only to break out into laughter again.

  Eyes closed and one hand pressed over his mouth, he shook his head.

  The whole thing was ridiculous and for some reason I started to find it funny.

  I bit my cheek as the smile began to creep onto my lips. Finally I couldn’t control it and the laugh burst out of me.

  That ramped up his laughter, fueling mine until the tears started to blur my vision. “This is crazy. You’re crazy.”

  “I know.” He wiped his own eyes. “I can’t help it.”

  Neither could I, but as silly as the whole thing was, it felt good to laugh. Really laugh, hard and with abandon.

  It didn’t happen often enough in my life. This had been a rare couple of weeks that I’d gotten to laugh out loud twice.

  The memory of the hay blockade at old lady Winters’ house started my giggles again just as we’d both begun to calm.

  Smiling, he watched as my renewed spasm of laughter overcame me.

  “I’m sorry. I just . . . just remembered—” I couldn’t finish my sentence. I was having trouble even breathing I was laughing so hard.

  “Remembered what?” he managed to get out, laughing again too thanks to me.

  “My son—” Gasping for breath I had trouble even finishing the brief thought. I tried again. “My son, he—he trapped the old lady next door in her house with—with—hay.”

  “He what?” Jamey asked, cracking up again probably because of my own hysteria that had made my explanation no doubt unintelligible.

  I took a few deep breaths and tried to calm myself before I started again. “My son trapped the old lady next door—” I spoke as quick as I could to get it out before I succumbed again. My voice cracked and I struggled to hold onto the little composure I’d managed. I drew in another breath and let it out slowly before continuing, “inside her house with a load of hay bales.”

  “Inside her house? With bales of hay?” Teary eyed, he laughed his way through the question.

  I nodded trying to catch my breath “Like eight feet high.” My answer had him laughing harder and started me going again too. Finally I mostly regained control of myself. “The kid must have loaded the truck, drove it over and stacked it all before dawn.”

  “That’s great.”

  “No. It’s bad. Very, very bad,” I said, not sounding all that convincing.

  “That’s why you were being so tough with him yesterday,” Jamey said.

  “Yeah.” I blew out a breath with a loud sigh. “Wow. I haven’t laughed that hard in a long time.”

  He let out a chuckle. “Me, either. I’m glad I got to . . . before I break my neck falling off Stardust.”

  “You won’t,” I said, smiling. “If I’d wanted to break your neck, I’d put you on Lucifer.”

  Jamey shot me an amused glance. “Oh, believe me, I know.”

  And with that, I liked him.

  I didn’t want to but damned if I didn’t. He could take my ribbing and laugh at himself.

  He had a sophomoric sense of humor and wasn’t afraid to show it.

  In his Levis and visibly worn motorcycle boots, he was the last thing I expected him to be—normal.

  But it didn’t matter because just like before I’d warmed up to him, our association was temporary. One month of lessons so he could convincingly sit a horse on camera. Then he’d be gone.

  I drew in a breath. Back to business.

  Keeping one hand on Stardust’s bridle I asked, “Ready?”

  He let out a burst of air. “Hell no, but let’s do this.”

  “Hands on the saddle, left foot in the stirrup, and swing your right leg over.”

  Stardust was big, a thoroughbred that measured seventeen hands high, but Jamey was pretty tall himself. Over six feet, if I had to guess. Where I had to hop up to get onto Stardust, he got his foot in the stirrup effortlessly and just as easily swung his right leg over the top of her.

  I didn’t watch how the muscles in his arms flexed as he hauled his big body up. I definitely didn’t notice how thick his thighs looked beneath the taught denim or wonder what he’d look like naked.

  Nope.

  Before I knew it, he was seated in the saddle and damn he looked good up there.

  His female fans were going to flip when they saw Jamey Garret on horseback.

  Hell, even his name leant itself to a western hero.

  “Now what?” he asked, bringing me back to reality.

  Now I had to try to not watch his ass in the saddle. I averted my eyes and said, “Hold the reins like I showed you.”

  He did as I’d asked and I had to admit, he was a good student.

  “Apply a little bit of pressure with your legs. Gently,” I warned. “She’s trained to respond to leg cues. You kick her too hard, and you’ll be learning to gallop whether you like it or not.”

  “Kick her?” Jamey patted the horse’s neck. “No. I’d never kick you. Don’t you worry. You’re so pretty.”

  The man was even sweet-talking the horse and that was just the reminder I needed that he likely did the same with any number of women. Not only was Jamey going to go back to his Hollywood life after our lessons, he was probably going home to one of his many girlfriends tonight.

  What the hell was wrong with me even looking at Jamey?

  Was I reverting back to my teenaged self who’d fallen hard for Dusty after seeing him in one run in the calf roping competition? Or was I so sexually deprived I was losing my mind?

  Maybe it was a bit of both.

  “Maisie?” Jamey’s voice had me glancing up.

  “Um, yeah?”

  “Before I get her going, how do I stop her?” A wrinkle of concern creased the skin between his eyes.

  A laugh burst from me. I had to admit he was adorable. “You ease up on the leg pressure and pull back on the reins.”

  He nodded. “Like a handbrake on a bike.”

  I smiled. “Kind of.”

  “All right. Here we go.” He drew in a deep breath and gave Stardust a little nudge with his foot.

  After a j
erky start that took Jamey by surprise judging by the soft string of cusses I heard, the mare settled into a gentle trot circling me while hugging the rail of the practice ring.

  “You’re okay. Just relax and go with it.”

  “Easy for you to say. You’re balls aren’t getting bounced around and crushed.”

  I laughed. “Well, that’s true. You know, a canter is less bouncy.”

  “Is that faster?” he asked, trying to glance at me but quickly focusing forward again.

  “Yes.”

  “Yeah, then no. No canter.”

  I grinned and heard the crunch of footsteps on dry grass and dirt. I turned to see my father walk up and lean on the rail. “This the new student?”

  I tracked Jamey’s progress with my gaze as I answered, “Yup.”

  “A little older than your usual. Isn’t he?” he commented.

  “Only on the outside,” I said, remembering our giggle attack.

  He passed by again, the expression of fear still firmly on his face. It wasn’t the look the director would be going for, I’m sure. But we still had time to get him comfortable.

  “Good job! Keep going,” I yelled to him. When he passed me one more time the fear had been replaced by a frown of deep concentration instead, which wasn’t much better. I trotted over and jumped up to sit on the rail by where my father leaned. “I gotta get him looking natural on a horse for a movie.”

  “Ah.” He nodded, tracking Jamey’s progress too. “How long you have?”

  I heard the unspoken part of my father’s question. As we both watched Jamey’s death grip on the reins and unsteady bounce in the saddle there was no doubt, we had a long way to go.

  “I’ve got a month.”

  My father lifted a brow. “Good.”

  I agreed. But I’d been on a few movie lots over the past couple of years. Circle H was in somebody’s contact list at the studio because we’d get the call to trailer over some of our horses for a few days of shooting a couple of times a year usually.

  So I knew from standing around and watching the production for hours at a time, that when the actor couldn’t do what the director needed him or her to, they’d perform some movie magic.

  Usually a close-up of the actor that cuts to a wide shot from the distance of what was really a stunt rider galloping . . . or falling, depending on the scene. I didn’t have to turn Jamey into a trick rider, but I did have to get him looking good for the close-ups.