CHAPTER 1

Oh, no–not in the mud! Cassy Collins tried to keep from panicking when she felt her horse start to lose his footing and stumble in the wet arena. She leaned forward and threw her arms around his neck as she slid her feet out of the stirrups and swung down from the saddle, the way she'd been taught to do an emergency dismount.

She almost made it. But as her boots touched the ground, she too skidded on the slippery surface. She tumbled backwards, sprawling on her bottom in an undignified heap.

Cassy attempted to get to her feet, only to fall again when her already wet boots encountered more mud as she scrambled for better footing.

"Thanks a lot." She scowled at General, who'd recovered his own footing and stopped a fewfeet away, turning his huge equine eyes on her as though to ask what she was doing on the ground.

Before she could try to get up a third time, Cassy suddenly felt strong hands come from behind to grasp her waist and set her on her feet. She turned her head and looked into the most striking eyes she'd ever seen.

"Are you okay?" the man in the raincoat asked as he released her and took two big steps around the puddle to grab General's reins.

"Y-yes…I think so." Cassy wasn't sure if she felt more shaken by the fall or the embarrassment of being observed by her attractive rescuer. She glanced down at her mud-covered body and realized that her pride hurt much worse than her bruised derriere. "Thanks."

As he ran an experienced hand down the horse's forelegs, she wondered who he was. He seemed to have an air of authority, as though he belonged there. She was sure she'd remember if they'd met before, but he seemed vaguely familiar–as though she'd seen his picture somewhere. The bleachers had been empty when she'd entered the arena. But she'd noticed a sudden movement there just before the fall.

Cassy couldn't see much of his build under the raincoat, but the man was tall–towering at least a foot over her own five foot two. His face was not handsome in a classic way but had a rugged virility. The deep blue of his eyes was made even bluer by the contrast of his black curly hair, which was long enough in back to reach under the collar of the raincoat.

"Your horse seems to be okay, too," he said, turning back to her. "You're both lucky. It's not a good idea to run your horse in footing like this. I hope you learned a lesson."

His patronizing tone irritated Cassy and her chin came up. She glared back at his grim face. "I don't make a habit of it–but this is my only chance to ride this week," she answered defensively. She grabbed General's reins from the man's hand. "Maybe you should have considered the danger of sneaking up on people when they're riding." She tried not to notice the look of amusement that came over his face as he lifted a dark eyebrow.

"This rain gear is hardly camouflage, young lady. Perhaps you should learn to be more alert to your surroundings." He turned abruptly and began walking toward the gate.

Cassy was too humiliated to respond. Not wanting to mount up again in her current condition, she followed behind him, leading General. She was too nervous to have him watch her ride now anyway.

He reached the gate first and held it open as she led the horse through. "Looks like you could use a shower," he remarked dryly. "Would you like me to put your horse away?"

"No thanks, I can manage," she replied, holding her head high in an effort to maintain a small shred of dignity in spite of her bedraggled state. She sloshed past him in her knee-high English riding boots and headed back to the barn.

Cassy purposely did not look back as she picked her way through the puddles dotting the normally sandy path. She fumbled with the chinstrap on her riding helmet, trying to unfasten it with one hand, but gave up in frustration after a few minutes. Another sudden gust of wind made her shiver and pull her waterproof jacket closer around her. The weather had turned unusually cold for a fall day in Florida. She was glad she'd worn a warm sweater underneath the jacket, and jeans instead of her usual breeches, which were harder to wash. Although she hated to admit it, the man in the raincoat had been right–this wasn't a good day for riding, even though the rain had stopped.

Luckily she and General didn't have far to go to reach the warmth and protection of the twenty-stall barn where she boarded him. Friendly nickers from the other horses were the only sounds except for the clip-clopping of General's hooves on the cement center aisle as they headed for the security of his stall.

As she untacked and cleaned her horse, Cassy cast a quick glance out the window back at the arena. She saw no sign of the attractive stranger.

"Okay, General," she said. "You get a reprieve today. I'm going to see if Mrs. D. will let me take a hot bath. I'll give you a rain check until next weekend." She patted the gelding on the neck, gathered up the grooming brushes and riding equipment, and walked back down the center aisle of the barn to the tack room.

Copyright © 2003 by Sandi Haddad