Free Stone Dreaming Woman by Lael R Neill

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    “There’s a saddle in the barn. If it fits her, would you like to ride with me a while? I’ll take you up to the top of the ridge north of here; there’s an exceptional view. Or if you’d prefer to try her alone, that’s fine with me, but please stay on the North Village Road. It’s easy to get lost around here until you know the area.” Shane’s invitation was shyly given, as if he expected a smart rejection.
    “I do need a guide, except…” She gestured to her skirt. “You wouldn’t mind if I wear jodhpurs?”
    “What’s the matter with jodhpurs? I’m wearing them myself.”
    “My jodhpurs are the kind meant to go with Pinks. However, my Pinks were fitted to me when I was fifteen and the jacket is too short now, so I didn’t bother to bring it.”
    “Miss Weston, I couldn’t care any less what you wear,” he said, perhaps a little too abruptly. “We probably won’t see anyone else. I’ll check the saddle fit.” She left him to it and returned to the house. Upstairs in her room, she dug around until she found her black jodhpurs. When she put them on, they felt a bit snug—and a bit daring, which suited her just fine, thank you. She tucked the tail of her plain white shirtwaist down into the waistband and sucked in her stomach to do up the last button. Then she dropped a black cardigan over the blouse and took up her tweed jacket. On the way out she snagged Richard’s black watch cap from the pegs by the front door. Knowing that the outfit made her look like a tomboyish gamine, she plastered a satisfied grin on her face and closed the front door behind her.
    Shane led Fleur out of the barn just as Jenny came skipping down the steps. “I’m ready. And thank you for responding to Uncle Richard’s request so quickly. Now I can go into town without having to use that awful buckboard and those poor tired old mares.”
    “I’m glad to be of service,” he responded stiffly, obviously wary of her.
    Toby crouched to give her a leg up. She settled into the saddle and sat the mare easily, even though Fleur was perhaps a little larger than was ideal for her. When she was comfortable, she kicked her feet back out of the stirrups so Toby could correct the length of the leathers. Shane mounted a moment later. He heeled Midnight and turned him down the lane toward the road.
    By the time they were at the end of the lane, she could tell her demonstration of horsemanship had left him more than a little impressed. She took extra pains to move properly with the horse, keeping her posture correct in every line. She knew she had good hands, and by the time they turned left onto the North Village Road, she read Fleur with precision.
    “You really do know how to ride,” he ventured at length. She felt a rush of smug satisfaction, having wrung even grudging praise from the aloof Mountie.
    “Thank you. Maybe all those years of dressage lessons with Aunt Eleanor actually paid off.” He asked Midnight for a trot and Fleur matched it, with Jenny posting with unconscious grace.
    “I’m taking you up past the trailhead to North Village. It’s maybe half an hour up to a view point where we can see way out across the valley. You’ll be able to look down and see Richard’s farm. Want to canter? That mare is as smooth as silk.” Though it was proper to demand a canter from either a walk or a trot, Jenny had been taught that it was more formal to slow the horse first. She twitched the reins and Fleur dropped to a walk, then a mere brush of her heels brought the mare into a canter that was as fluid as the surface of a summer lake. She stubbornly set the pace for both of them. Though Fleur stood perhaps a scant half-hand shorter than Midnight, the strength of an intact mare might easily give a gelding a run for his money. After a reasonable time Shane reined Midnight in, and he dropped reluctantly to a walk.
    “That’s enough for now. Midnight seems to be going well, but I don’t want to press