Chapter 79
RYMAN TRIED TO focus on the back of Dorcas’s helmet. It was difficult to keep his gaze from dropping lower, especially when she flexed into jumping position at each fence. The late November morning was cool and damp, perfect Barbour jacket weather. But Dorcas had opted for a quilted vest that only reached the small of her back. Rather than the blue jeans she often wore on exercise rides, she sported a pair of form fitting breeches. And that form was giving Ryman fits.
Colby was relaxed and comfortable following along behind Waylon, Cecelia’s big, steady hunter. The experienced horse took each jump at an even pace, arching over the highest, most challenging obstacles as if they were nothing more than tiny logs. It was much more pleasurable for Ryman than dealing with his youngs
