Riding Lessons

By Sue Owen

All Joe’s father wanted was a grandchild. All Joe wanted was to run his own research facility. All Jennifer Rose wanted was to raise Mustangs. When Jennifer Rose agreed to teach Joe how to ride a horse, she had no idea the lessons he would teach her. Joe was resigned to getting the horseback riding lessons over with so that he could pursue his real desire; getting out from under his father and becoming the scientist he knew he could be.

But was that really his only desire? What about this young, capable, beautiful woman that seemed to know his very thoughts? She was unlike anyone he knew and he found himself thinking about changing his dream to include her. But what about her grandfather? He was just old fashioned enough to shoot him for even thinking about his granddaughter.

And Jennifer Rose? Could she ever be tamed? So who was going to get what they wanted out of this deal, anyway? Could there be more than riding lessons taught at Prescott Farms?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pink Phoenix Publishing
• Release date: Dec 5, 2011

Sue Owen

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Book preview

Chapter One

Phillip could tell Joe was a bit put out. As a matter of fact, in his twenty-six years few weeks went by when Joe wasn’t pissed, angry, annoyed, insulted, livid, irate or one of many, many more versions of not being happy with his dad. Phillip took it in stride. Part of a father’s burden to bear, he supposed.

"Really, Father. I think you’ve gone over the edge this time. Horseback riding lessons? As a job requirement? How can you possibly expect me to take that seriously? Any idiot can ride a horse. Just hop on and don’t fall off. It’s not hard. Couldn’t we just skip the lessons and just go on the trip? I’m sure I’m smart enough to figure it out as we go.

I do have two PhD’s, and a third in the making, and an I.Q. that’s over 179. I think that qualifies me for the overachiever’s award. What’s so hard about riding a horse that I couldn’t figure it out?

Phillip chuckled. Joe was about the smartest person he knew, but some things he just didn’t get. He loved his son, but times like these called for drastic measures. At twenty-six Joe had never had a serious girlfriend. Phillip and his wife Amy brought home girls for Joe to meet and he turned them into his next lab partner or a new friend. Joe never took women seriously and, darn it all, Phillip wanted to be a grandfather!

Hence the forced horseback riding lessons and the following trip to the Outback. Phillip planned to have so many beautiful, attractive, smart and utterly amazing women on this safari, Joe would find someone. Guaranteed.

At this point, Phillip would settle for just about anyone. Heaven forbid Joe caught onto Phillip’s true purpose. Despite the potential scientific advances this trip could provide, Joe would flat refuse to go, and once Joe made up his mind, dynamite couldn’t change it.

Sorry Joe. This is non-negotiable. We are going to have some of the most renowned scientists and professors in the world on this expedition, and I am not going to have my son fumbling around trying to figure out how to ride a horse while talking eight syllable words to fellow doctorates. You’d come off looking like an idiot. Phillip came around to the front side of his desk. Leaning against it, he continued.

You take care of the science and let me take care of the social. I insist. Here’s the name and phone number of the stables. They are expecting you. Lessons are all paid for. You will have six weeks to figure out which end of the horse you feed and which you avoid. Don’t disappoint me. I’ll know if you aren’t attending or putting forth an effort, and I will pull your last grant. He stepped toward Joe, put his arm around his son, and walked him to the door.

Cheer up. At least you can learn what sunshine feels like. Oh, and just to warn you…part of the lesson is learning to take care of the horse, so don’t wear a suit. Now get out of my office and get to work. You have a scientific review in front of the committee due in three days if I’m not mistaken. Scoot.

Phillip frowned as Joe grumbled his way out of the room. Was he asking too much? The expedition would take them well into the Australian Outback following a rumor of an unexplored valley containing proof of fish-eating dinosaurs.

Madison Scientific, currently jointly owned by Phillip and Amy Rice, was one of the most renowned research and development facilities of the world. Phillip’s father, Keith, started the business during the First World War to provide alternative energy sources. Thanks to his research, gasoline refinement made fuel more viable and in the process made the Rice family one of the wealthiest in the world.

Now, Phillip was doing more research into pharmaceuticals than pursuing his love of archeology. Because of his expertise in the Cretaceous period, he was approached by the people heading the expedition. He happily agreed to head the scientific portion of the expedition and started assembling his team, including his son, Joe. Now they were seven weeks from start and Phillip was just beginning to finalize plans …. starting with his son learning to ride.

#

Joe fumed all afternoon. Seriously? Horseback riding? He wasn’t worried about taking the lessons or looking like a fool as his dad seemed to think he would. He just hated wasting time. Ninety percent of the population couldn’t keep up with him intellectually and he absolutely had no tolerance for idiots.

He closed down his station early because he couldn’t focus anyway. Before he left, he called the stables and found out his first lesson would begin tomorrow morning at eight. That would have been nice to know, Dad. Thanks.

He spent the evening as he did all others. He grabbed some to-go food and drove to his own wing of the massive house just outside of Portland he shared with his parents. Despite still living at home he rarely saw his parents except when one of them sought the other out. Tonight, he ate at his desk while answering emails from his friends all over the world. Then he continued working on an article he was writing for one of the scientific journals. Around eleven he clicked on his seldom used TV to catch a few minutes of news then turned in.

The next morning he stood in front of his wardrobe considering what he should wear. He didn’t own a pair of jeans. He settled for a pair of Dockers, his loafers and a button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Weather in Oregon was mild in the morning and hot in the afternoons this time of year. His lesson should only take a couple of hours then he could head back to the lab and air conditioning.

Chapter Two

Jennifer Rose always got up before sunrise to feed the chickens, cows, and horses. Her whole life, all 23 years of it, had been spent at her family’s ranch just outside of North Plains, Oregon. They had just over twenty acres now, down from the hundred and fifty that was the original homestead. Over the years, her family had sold the acreage to raise money for additional ventures, including the automated milking machine installed last year.

They had a few beef cows they kept mostly for themselves and a few locals but most of their income now came from the milk cows to which her gramps catered. Hence, the new milking machine he paid excessively for, in her opinion. He was always out in the barns talking to them and spoiling them, trying out new grains and feeds to boost their milk production. The rest of their farm grew mostly grain, which she hoped to change.

She was getting used to her gramps changing things up. For an old geezer he sure loved the modern contraptions. JR, as everyone called her, was a country girl from head to foot. A few years ago, her dad died in a mower accident, trying to bring in the last of the hay harvest. Her gramps had mainly raised her since she was three when her mother ran off with the traveling salesman.

Growing up the only girl in a house full of men had taught her to fend for herself. After high school, she went to the community college for a while and got her associates degree in agriculture and that’s all she needed to keep the farm working. She got a few of her own ideas through Gramps’ approval process and the farm was rewarded with a better than average harvest for the last three years. She was hoping to modernize the irrigation system this year but was having a hard time convincing Gramps to not get an automated feeding machine for the calves instead.

By far her favorite part of farming was the horses. She lived and breathed horses. Every spare second she could she was out in the horse barn cleaning stalls, washing or combing down the four horses her gramps allowed her to keep. Her gramps wouldn’t let her keep many horses yet, but she loved every one and each had their own personality which she more than catered to.

She thought about training Trixie and entering her in barrel racing competitions especially since she was a fast little quarter horse, but JR knew she couldn’t take the time away from the farm to train her properly.

Last year JR decided to try to make the horses pay for themselves so Gramps would stop harping on her to get rid of them. She put an ad in the local paper and the Oregonian offering riding lessons and horses for rent. During the summer, she was inundated with people wanting to book her horses for riding and she had a full schedule for lessons. She only allowed herself afternoon lessons so as not to interfere with her feeding the livestock first thing in the mornings. She made enough this year to almost buy another horse. At least she got to show Gramps that the horses could pay for themselves to which he replied, humph.

With her summer sessions now done and fall coming on, she wasn’t as hesitant as she probably should have been when she got a call from Phillip Rice wanting to book lessons for his son in the mornings. The extra money would put her over the top and allow her to buy the mare she’d been thinking about. Because it was so late in the season, she had refused at first but he offered to pay double. He said he needed the lessons to be in the morning so as not to interrupt his son’s work schedule. She gave in. It was a lot of money for only six weeks of inconvenience on her part and he was her only lesson now. She would just have to get up earlier to feed the livestock before the lessons.

She forgot to ask Phillip his son’s age in fact she forgot to ask his name, too. Not that it mattered anyway. She had learned to be a patient teacher and rein in the most rowdy child. She could handle a spoiled little rich kid that probably wouldn’t take horseback riding serious anyway. As long as he didn’t mistreat her horses, she didn’t care what kind of temper tantrum he had.

Chapter Three

JR was just finishing feeding the horses that morning when a dark blue Mercedes Roadster pulled up. She rinsed her hands in the water bucket and grabbed a towel. It figures, she thought to herself. Rich boy, rich car. She heaved a sigh. Only six weeks.

She began to smile when a man stepped out of the driver’s seat hesitantly. He was the epitome of computer geek from his sticking up hair to his horn-rimmed glasses. He was white as a sheet and looked like he’d never seen the sun in his entire lifetime. He even had on a button down shirt, something she hadn’t seen on the farm in twenty years. Even Gramps wears t-shirts these days. His only redeeming quality in JR’s eyes is that he looked genuinely frightened. Like if he heard any sharp noise he would jump right back into that fancy, over priced car of his and skedaddle. Now she felt sorry for him and her female hormones kicked in as it did with wounded animals and puppies.

I’m Jennifer Rose. Welcome to Prescott farms, Mr. Rice. I hope that nasty gravel road didn’t hurt your pretty car too badly. It’s nice to meet you. She walked over to the man and grabbed his hand in a firm handshake practically pulling him away from his car and slamming the door.

Why don’t you just come on into my office where we can sit comfy and chat a spell. I’d like to find out a bit about you and your expectations for your lessons. JR continued, turning and heading towards a small door on the side of the barn.

Her office was small but it had windows on the barn side so she could work and watch the horses. Truthfully, it was just a stall Gramps let her convert to an office so she could keep her breeding information handy and work on paperwork without having to go to the house all the time. It worked well for her and she loved it out here. Horse manure smell and all.

She waved her client to a chair on the other side of her desk and sat down. She looked at him expectantly. She wasn’t sure if he was shy or just rude. She’d find out though before she let him near her horses.

Joe. My name is Joe. He said after a minute with her just staring at him. JR looked confident in her tight fitting jeans tucked into brown, well-worn cowboy boots. Her western style shirt snapped on up to her ample breasts but lay open at the top, a black t-shirt covering to her throat.

She was so brown from the sun her blonde hair tied up in her traditional bun almost looked white. She also looked about fifteen but exuded confidence well beyond that.

Joe. Nice to meet you. As I said before, I’m Jennifer Rose. Or JR as everyone calls me. So why don’t you tell me why you feel you need riding lessons. Your father wasn’t real clear on that.

JR watched him as he talked. She noted his jumpiness. She came back to the feeling he was scared but it just didn’t make any sense.

Well, Joe cleared his throat. JR almost smiled at his obvious nervousness. He’s out the door if he tells me something stupid like his father made him do it, she thought to herself, sitting back in her chair, folding her arms over her breasts.

Well, he tried again. Um… I’m going on an expedition in Australia in a couple of months and thought I would brush up on my riding. I probably won’t need much in the way of real lessons but just a refresher would do. In fact, if you just point me in the direction of which horse you are going to let me ride, I can just get out of your hair and get to it.

Oh no. Hold on there, cowboy. Don’t work that way in my barn, JR didn’t bother to get up. Because of his nervousness and obvious fear, she had almost decided he wasn’t getting lessons from her and was about to tell him to get back in his car and head home. Fear and horses just don’t mix. She’d send daddy’s check back tomorrow.

When Joe stood,