“Five feet give or take.”
Jay grimaced. “That’s a long way to fall.”
Nate led Diablo out into the open air and stopped next to another box. “Get on the damn horse,” he said.
Jay looked at Diablo and recalled what Nate had said. Something about getting on using the left hand side, putting his foot in the stirrup, then swinging up and over. Easy. He’d seen this on TV as well. He’d also seen films where the guys fell off, with feet caught in reins, being dragged to their death. Concentrating on where his foot was going, he used every ounce of his gym-fit muscles to heave himself up and over. In shock, he realized he was sitting atop Diablo and looking down at Nate, who had a look of something on his face that Jay wasn’t convinced was real. He almost looked like he was proud of the move.
In a few minutes, he explained position and the reins and that mostly Diablo would be happy to follow Juno.
“You’ll need these and this,” he said. Jay took the proffered thick jacket, gloves, scarf and hat gratefully—he could imagine he’d need both if the Montana wind had its wicked way with his city-soft skin. “You can keep it all—they’re spares.” Nate crossed to Juno and in a smooth move was up onto the horse’s back. With one hand on the reins, he guided Juno next to where Diablo stood. Jeez. Jay thought it was sexy when he saw cowboys on the screen, but having one this close, all scruff and leather and confident, sassy horse riding, Jay was finding it hard to keep it in his pants. Tonight, he re