Free Learning to Ride by Erin Knightley

woman a quick hug before gesturing to Madeline. “Ms. Letty, this is my new boss, Ms. Madeline Harper. She’s from New York City!”
    The older woman smiled widely before wrapping her in a hug that left Madeline a little flustered. New Yorkers did not hug at first meeting.
    “I knew who you were by process of elimination,” she said as she’d pulled away. “I can’t wait to hear all about New York. The book was a snooze this month—it read slower than molasses in January, I swear—so I’m in dire need of some entertainment. Come on, let me introduce you to everyone, then you and I can find us a quiet corner for some quality conversation.”
    Madeline allowed Ms. Letty to sweep her along to the living room, where a dozen women were busily chatting. She made the introductions, and Madeline did her best to keep up with all the names and faces.
    The last woman she met, Ashley, looked vaguely familiar, and suddenly, Madeline remembered where they’d met. “Oh,” she said, snapping her fingers, “I remember you. You were the accomplished mechanical bull rider at The Rebel Yell.”
    The brunette brightened. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Good to see you again. I’m sorry we didn’t get a chance to chat more that night but, well, you seemed a little preoccupied.” Her wink was subtle and friendly, but Madeline felt a blush rise to her cheeks anyway.
    “Yes, well, I’m glad we had a chance to meet again.” She cleared her throat and looked to Ms. Letty. “Would you by chance have a glass for this wine?”
    “Does a cat have climbing gear?” she replied saucily before slipping her arm around Madeline’s and steering them to the kitchen. “We’ve already got a bottle or six open, so please help yourself.”
    Armed with wine in one hand and a red velvet cupcake in the other, Madeline sat in on the meeting, observing more than participating despite having read the book. They were actually a well-read group, referencing a dozen other books in their discussion. For the first time, she felt as though she had something in common with her new neighbors. It helped that they were all so friendly and welcoming.
    She smiled. It was fascinating, listening to them chat and banter, gossip and confide. They were so easy with each other, it seemed they’d been friends for decades.
    They probably had been.
    Some of the more colorful Texan phrases made her laugh out loud, like when one of the women declared that the heroine was as dumb as a soup sandwich, and when Ashley complained that her Bundt cake turned out as dry as a bag of sawdust in July. The others rushed to assure her it was delicious, but she just waved off their compliments and dunked it in her wine.
    It felt good to laugh with these women, even if Madeline did feel a little out of place. When Ms. Letty crooked a finger at her while the others were debating how satisfying the ending was, Madeline readily followed her into the dining room.
    “I can’t hear another word about that silly book,” the older woman said as she settled into the chair at the head of the table and took a healthy swig of her wine. “That main character was as dumb as a bag of hammers. Truth be told, I’d rather read a romance any day of the week, but this was Betty Anne’s month to choose, and we all humored her and her it-ain’t-over-till-somebody-dies literary tastes.”
    Madeline bit back a laugh. She hadn’t disliked the book, but the heroine’s little brother had died at the end in what felt like an emotionally manipulative climax. “I see,” she said diplomatically when she realized a response was expected.
    “Now then, I would much rather hear all about where you’re from.”
    Madeline smiled and took the seat next to her. “What would you like to know?”
    “Oh, honey, it don’t matter. I’ve just always wanted to go and never made it happen. My husband would sooner walk barefoot in a briar patch than take a trip to New York City. I’ve had to make do with Law