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“You can ride Trigger there. The big black. And you, Eryn, how about Lady? She’s the gray mare.”

“Okay.” She gave a shuddering breath.

“How’s your dad doing, Eryn? I haven’t had a chance to touch base with him lately.”

“Fine.”

“Good man, your father.”

“I’ll tell him you asked about him.”

Maxwell shook his head. This was an odd little town where everyone was in each other’s business. He could only be thankful he’d escaped all those years ago. “Trigger looks fine, thanks.” He turned to Eryn. “Let me help you with Lady, first. Come meet her.”

He took Eryn’s hand and tugged her over to the mare. Then he leaned in and whispered. “Don’t tell Mr. Walker, but I came prepared. Here, give Lady this carrot, and she’ll be your friend for life.”

She pulled her hand out of his but accepted the carrot. “Just hold it out to her?”

“On a flat palm.”

“Ooh!” Eryn giggled as Lady nipped the treat in one bite. “That tickled.”

He’d been about to warn her. “Okay, come stand here on Lady’s left. Tuck your left foot into the stirrup and grab the saddle horn. Got it? Now give yourself a good boost and swing your right leg over her back.”

It took Eryn a couple of tries before she made it into the saddle. “Wow. This is higher than I thought.”

“Sit right there.” Maxwell turned to Trigger and mounted up, nodding to the rancher. “Hold the reins loosely. I’m guessing she’ll follow Trigger no problem.”

“That’s right, son,” the older man agreed. “Looks like you’ve got it from here.”

Maxwell grinned at Eryn before he squeezed his knees gently against Trigger’s flanks. “Let’s see how this goes.”

Was this how his cousin Weston felt all the time when teaching greenhorns to ride at Sweet River Ranch? Because it was gratifying to see the faith Eryn placed in both him and Lady, even though she was obviously terrified… at least, judging by her clenched eyes and white knuckles.

Lady ambled behind Trigger, and Maxwell turned in his saddle slightly. “You’re doing great. Enjoy the view. Everything looks better from this vantage point.”

Even Kansas.

Even Eryn Ralston.

Maybe she wasn’t going to fall off the swaying horse and make a fool of herself in front of everyone. More to the point, in front of Maxwell, who’d been nothing but kind to her since last night.

Men like him never paid attention to women like her, so she should soak it up while she had it. He’d probably jet away from Kansas tomorrow, and she’d never see him again. Just as well, because he made her want things that weren’t her lot in life: marriage and a family, sure, but also ease and adventure. No, the greatest role she might be destined for was cooking at Debby’s Diner, not just assisting.

Big whoop. It might be someone’s dream, but not hers.

It was the end of September, and the days were still quite pleasant. She relaxed a tiny bit at the warmth of the sun on her skin and the flicker of breeze playing with her hair. She should have tied it back.

She still couldn’t believe she was horseback riding with Maxwell Sullivan. Right, and a whole bunch of other people, but whatever. He was focused on her even now, glancing at her with a smile as she rode behind him. He took his responsibility seriously.

“So, um, tell me about Montana. About the ranch. Is it like Walker Ridge?”

He shook his head. “Not much the same, no. There are quite a few ranches in our area, most of them working spreads.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, that they earn their income from raising beef cattle and selling them. Sweet River used to be a working ranch, but the folks who owned it maybe ten years ago began turning it into a guest ranch. Some people call them dude ranches.”

“So, your ranch’s income comes from tourists.”