For the next hour, she did whatever he asked but said nothing in return. There were times in the past week he’d have welcomed the silence, but now he found himself prodding her, trying to break through the wall she’d put in place.
She didn’t break. She focused on staying upright in the saddle as the horse ran through a curve. Sometimes she managed well, other times she ended up half bent over the horse’s neck. Pieces of his advice were useless since the sidesaddle situated her farther back on the horse’s back than he would have been.
After one attempt Sophia winced and she pressed a hand to her side. It was only for a moment, but it was enough to swell Aaron’s guilt. If she was in pain, she wouldn’t believe he wanted her to remain unhurt. “That’s enough for today.”
She gave a nod and pulled the horse to a stop. Then she kicked her foot free of the stirrup and jumped down before he could reach her side.
“I was coming to help you,” Aaron said with a frown.
“Afraid for my well-being?” Sophia bit out.
“As a matter of fact, yes, I am.” He sighed and placed a hand on the horse’s neck, moving to the opposite side of the horse so he could see her clearly without invading her space. “I didn’t mean what I said, Sophia.”
“You always mean what you say.” She gave him a sad smile. “That’s why you say so little.”
“I don’t wish you ill.”
“That’s rather different from not caring if it befalls me.”
She had a point, and he hated that he couldn’t entirely refute it. He didn’t wish any harm to come to Sophia, but part of the reason he’d initially agreed to her racing was because of how little any injury she obtained would affect his life. That first day, he’d have said that was what she’d insisted on risking.
It was different now. A week of getting to know her had changed his mind. Davers’s jockey actively trying to unseat her had changed the situation. He’d already promised she would race again, but what if the five or six jockeys she rode against were all bent on making her feel their resentment?
The sun caught her disheveled hair, turning it into a glowing halo about her face. Streaks of red slashed across her cheekbones, likely a sign of her anger and not her recent exertion. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest. She was the picture of hurt obstinacy, and he didn’t like seeing her that way. Especially when the truth was that if she got hurt now, he’d be devastated.
“Do you want to race?”
His quiet question brought her attention swinging toward him. Some of his intentions must have come through, because it wasn’t an angry, narrowed gaze that connected with his across the saddle, but a wide-eyed one. Somehow, her brilliant eyes were reflecting the sky, shooting streaks of blue through the green depths.
Thank goodness the horse was between them, because she looked far too similar to the way she’d been right before she’d kissed him. The urge to repeat the experience hit him full force, and he wrapped his hand around the back of the saddle to keep from circling the animal.
Her arms shifted down until she was hugging herself instead of creating an angry shield. When she spoke, her voice was soft, and he had to strain to hear her over the birds and the whistle of the breeze through the grass. “Mr. Notley only kept me on because of Rhiannon. She’s been my ticket into a lot of places, but horses get old. They get injured or sick. I can’t depend upon her forever.” She hugged herself tighter and looked down. “I don’t know anything but horses. I need a name to make a living.”
If asked, Aaron would have said the same thing about himself. He’d made passable marks in school and could have made a simpler living somewhere else, but working with horses was the only thing that made his life feel fulfilled.
“I don’t think Rhiannon was the only reason he kept you.” Aaron remembered the act with clarity, and it hadn’t been the horse’s striking beauty that captured him. “The horses were only amazing because of what you taught them, and you were the one the crowd was enamored with. Did you not like performing?”
She shook her head. “Hated it. All those eyes on you . . .”
Aaron choked out a laugh. “Because no one is looking at you now.”
A half grin flashed his way as she lifted her head. “It’s different.”
“How?” She was still performing impossible-looking feats on the back of a horse while dozens of eyes analyzed her every move for flaws and others lifted her up as some sort of ethereal entertainment.
She ran a hand down the horse’s neck. “There’s a goal. It’s one thing to strive for undeniable success and another for your every action to be an effort to hold their attention.”
Her statement sparked a sensation in him that he didn’t comprehend. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to stop the world so he could slow down and understand what was happening or speed everything up so it would all go away.
Sophia made the choice for him by taking the reins and stepping toward the gate. “You said we’re done for the day?”
Since Aaron still held the bridle, the move put them in close proximity. It would take barely any movement at all to lean down and kiss her again.
Acting on that impulse was out of the question. He had decided long ago not to subject any woman to the middling existence he waded through, and he wasn’t about to make a habit of kissing a woman he had no intention of marrying.
Dallying with a woman was not an option. Ever. In any way.
He allowed his gaze to connect with hers, and the impact rolled all the way to his toes.
She apparently felt it all the way to her vocal cords, because a sudden outpouring of words tried to make up for two hours of silence in the span of two minutes.
He’d heard it before, her ramblings on the belief that people would take her seriously once she succeeded, that if she did well, they would respect her. What he didn’t expect was that this time he was a part of her thought process.
“If I lose, it will reflect directly on you, which is all the more reason I need to do well. Everyone will know you’ve taken over the training. Though I’ve heard you talk to Mr. Barley. You make most of the training decisions anyway. I don’t know if that’s common knowledge. Now anything that happens will be attributed straight to you. People will know they’re your ideas.”
Panic crawled up his throat. He did not need her thinking about him in connection to her life or how her actions affected him. Could he make the outcome turn out the way she hoped? After the race, could he convince a few people to give her a chance? Maybe.
“Monday we’ll run a lap before the official training hours. Remind people you are a serious threat. They’ll be watching you differently now.”
She nodded. “I won’t let you down.”
“I’m not worried about that.”
“Well, I am. If I cross the finish line clinging to Equinox’s neck again, it will look like you couldn’t teach me. They won’t consider that it might have been because you’ve never ridden sidesaddle.” She tossed him a grin. “Or have you?”
Aaron coughed. He should let go of the horse and step back. He should.
But he didn’t. “No, I’ve never ridden aside. I’ve balanced a horse through plenty of turns, though.”