After the Fall by L.A. Witt Read Free Book Online

spoil her rotten, so . . .”
    “Good. Every horse deserves to be spoiled.”
    “They do.” I gestured at the plastic tote full of grooming supplies by the wall. “Now get to spoiling her.”
    Chuckling again, he saluted. “Yes, sir.”
    I sat on one of the tack trunks pushed up against a stall door. There was no place to put my leg up for now, but we wouldn’t be out here long, so I didn’t worry about it.
    Ryan picked up a currycomb—one of the rough, rubber brushes—and started making circular motions on her coat, going against the grain to stir up the dirt and any loose hairs. When he hit a spot at her withers just below the point where her mane started, she leaned into the brush.
    “That an itchy spot?” He grinned and kept scratching her with the brush. She stretched out her neck, turned her head, and twisted her lip until she resembled a camel having a stroke. When she rolled her eyes back, Ryan and I both laughed.
    After a moment, he stopped. Tsarina shook herself, raising a cloud of dust, and snorted.
    I coughed, waving a hand to chase away the dust. “You’re so dignified, darling.”
    “Isn’t she, though?” Ryan kept currying the rest of her coat. “At least I don’t do like my grandpa used to do. He thought it was hilarious to put gloves over their ears.”
    “Gloves? Over . . .?”
    “Makes them look like a reindeer.” He held his free hand up above his head. “Or a moose. One of the two.”
    I laughed again. “Oh, God. I’ve never done that.”
    “It’s funny as hell, especially if they keep flicking their ears back and forth.” He turned to Tsarina and scratched under her jaw. “We won’t do that to you, though.”
    “Not without a camera nearby, we won’t,” I said.
    Ryan put the currycomb back in the tote and pulled out a soft brush. He ran that over her coat, but then something on her front leg seemed to catch his eye. He knelt beside her, running his hand down her leg.
    “Something wrong?” I asked.
    “She’s got a little cut here,” he said over his shoulder. “Is this from the other day?”
    I leaned forward until I could see the scratch, which was mostly healed. “No, I think she did that the day I brought her home. She still needs some work getting in and out of the trailer.”
    “Oh.” He stood again, and checked her over slowly. “And she was . . . okay? After what happened on the trails?”
    “Yeah.” I sat back against the stall door again. “My leg cushioned her fall.”
    Ryan faced me, eyes wide, and I suddenly regretted the joke.
    “Honestly, she was fine,” I said. “Horses aren’t that fragile.”
    “Yeah, I know, but . . .” He turned toward her again. Slowly, he ran his hand along her back, watching intently as his fingers glided across her shining brown coat, like he was inspecting her for bumps and bruises. “God, when I saw you both go down . . .”
    “Ryan.” When he turned, I said, “Relax. She’s fine, and I’ll be back on my feet in a few months.”
    He dropped his gaze.
    “It was an accident,” I said. “You know that. I know that. It sucked in the moment, but we’re all okay.”
    “I know. I just feel so bad about what happened.”
    “It’s done.” I shrugged. “I know it wasn’t deliberate.” With a cautious smirk, I added, “Unlike that mark I left on your face.”
    He managed a quiet laugh, absently touching the fading bruise beside his mouth. “Well, I’d still hate to see you or her get hurt.”
    “We’re both fine.”
    He held my gaze for a moment, and I gave him a reassuring smile. Without a word, he continued brushing Tsarina.
    After he’d finished grooming her, I said, “My saddle’s in the tack room.” I gestured at the door on the other side of the aisle. “Rack number fourteen. Black dressage saddle. Bridle’s hanging on the third hook from the door.”
    He disappeared into the tack room. Buckles rattled and leather squeaked, and a moment later, he came out with my saddle over his arm and my