The Christmas Cowboy. Judy Christenberry

to the left stirrup. She paused, trying to figure out which foot went in first.

      “Your left!” Hank barked.

      She glared at him. Did he have to yell? And why didn’t he just explain all these rules before?

      She put her left foot in the stirrup and using all her strength, swung her other leg over the horse. Much to her surprise, her body settled into the saddle as if it belonged there.

      “Good job. Now dismount.”

      She considered taking the right side to dismount, but Hank told her, “Left side!”

      She slid off the horse on the left side. She figured he would tell her to mount up again and she wasn’t disappointed. She swung up into the saddle once more, a bit more smoothly this time, and hoped he’d let her stay there and begin teaching her to ride. But alas, no. He ordered her to dismount, then turned on his heel to leave.

      “Unsaddle her and then you can amuse yourself till lunch.” With that he simply walked out of the barn.

      Andrea rested her head against Moonbeam’s long neck and stifled a scream.

      “HONESTLY, JESSICA, all I did was saddle and unsaddle Moonbeam. I thought he’d let me ride a little bit, at least. I was so frustrated!”

      “I guess you were, but you have to know how to take care of your horse. You did say you wanted to learn to ride like a cowboy, didn’t you?”

      “Yes, but I didn’t think Hank would be so…formal!”

      The man himself stepped into the kitchen. “If you don’t like my teaching techniques, Miss Jacobs, we’ll be glad to refund you your money, except for the cost of the food and lodging we’ve provided so far, and you can go elsewhere.”

      The kitchen was painfully silent for several moments.

      Then Andrea spoke. “I didn’t mean to be so harsh, Mr. Ledbetter. I just thought I might be allowed to ride a little bit.”

      “If you can manage to saddle your horse properly after lunch, you’ll be allowed to ride this afternoon.”

      “Really? Why didn’t you tell me that this morning?”

      “I don’t think it’s necessary to inform my students of every step when I’m teaching them.”

      Jessica stepped between them. “But you could change your rules slightly, Hank. That wouldn’t be so hard, would it?”

      “Fine! When’s lunch going to be ready?”

      “I’m just getting ready to serve it. I’ll put it on the table if you’ll both be seated.”

      “You can have Jim’s seat by Jess,” Hank said to Andrea. “He won’t be here.” After saying that, Hank sat down on his side of the table.

      With a shrug, Andrea sat down beside Jessica.

      Jessica put another casserole on the table with a salad and some baked beans.

      Andrea now understood the remark Hank had made to her at The Prime Rib about eating everything in front of her. She was starving.

      When Jessica uncovered the dish, Andrea drew a deep breath. Then she looked up straight into Hank’s eyes, noting the laughter there. At least he wasn’t frowning. “Yes, you were right,” she said with a chuckle.

      “Good,” Jessica said. “It’s chicken pot pie. Be sure to fill your plate. And we have dessert, too.”

      “Oh, my, I don’t know if I can eat that much.”

      “You can,” Hank said.

      She glared at him, but it was a wasted effort. He was already digging into his lunch. Which reminded her she was wasting time.

      THE AFTERNOON LESSON went much better. After she successfully saddled Moonbeam, Hank told her to lead the mare out into the corral. She eagerly did so, waiting for the chance to ride for the first time ever. Hank didn’t bring out a horse for himself, and that surprised her. He was going to let her ride alone?

      He sauntered out into the corral and climbed onto the split-rail fence. “Now, lead her around for a while.”

      She thought about complaining, but she remembered what Jessica had told her about this morning’s lesson. She’d better hold back. Maybe he really was trying to teach her to ride the cowboy way.

      After half an hour, he drawled, “Okay, bring her over here and mount up. Remember, left side, left foot. When you step up into the saddle, swing your right foot over and into the right stirrup.” While he was saying that, he got down from the fence and grabbed the horse’s reins.

      Oddly, there was something different about mounting the horse in the wide-open space of the corral, instead of in the barn. She felt anxious. “She won’t run away, will she?”

      “I’ll hold her. Don’t worry.”

      She gave him a tight smile. “I won’t.”

      She put her left foot in the stirrup and tried to swing up, but she got caught, unable to pull her body up into the saddle. Suddenly she felt Hank’s hands on her behind pushing her up. She gasped and nearly lost her grip on the horn. Her skin burned where he touched her. Somehow she found herself in the saddle.

      “Sometimes dudes get caught in the middle.”

      Andrea felt her cheeks heat, not because he called her a “dude”—which, as an inexperienced rider, she supposed she was—but because she couldn’t look him in the eye after he’d had his hands on her rear end.

      True to form, though, he irritated her with his next words.

      “Okay, ride her around the corral for a while. Remember, she’ll do what you tell her with the reins. Pull gently left or right, and when you need to stop, pull back gently on both reins.”

      “You want me to ride in circles like a child?” she demanded.

      “Yeah,” Hank responded.

      “But what about riding somewhere?”

      Hank sighed and shook his head. “Just do what I say. You’ll get there before you know it.”

      “Today?”

      “Nope. But maybe tomorrow. It depends.”

      “On what?”

      “On how quickly you recover.”

      She gave him a glare and started riding around the circle with her teeth gritted and in total silence. She wanted to prove that she could wait him out. After a few minutes, he shouted for her to stop. She pulled back on both reins. The horse was wonderfully responsive.

      “Good. Now do a figure eight.”

      She rode the horse in a figure eight, enjoying that more than riding in a circle. Then he told her to reverse the figure eight.

      He kept her going for a couple of hours, alternating the routine. When he finally brought her to a stop, he studied her. “How are you feeling?”

      She was hurting a little, but she thought she could still ride. “I’m perfectly fine.”

      “No problems at all?”

      After debating her answer, she finally said, “I’m a little sore.”

      “Okay, get down.”

      She tried to get down the way she’d gotten up, but her legs seemed to crumple under her. Before she knew it, Hank was holding her.

      “Easy, Andrea. Give yourself a chance to get your legs back under you.”

      “What happened? I—I can hardly stand.”

      “Take it slow. You’ll get the feeling back in a minute.”

      She didn’t like his arms around her, his chest near her face,