The Wildwood Sisters Read Online Free Page A

had been so much easier before…
    With the heel of his timeworn R.M. Williams boot resting up on the rustic timber railings, he blinked back tears and instead turned his focus towards the job at hand. He couldn’t fall in a heap right now—there was work to do. Taking a swig from his water bottle, his gentle gaze came back to rest on the buckskin stock horse he’d so aptly named Rascal, its buttermilk coat contrasting beautifully with its black mane, tail and legs. The saddled horse looked over at him and whickered, his tail curled and his ears pricked forward. Dylan smiled to himself. He’d definitely scored with this one—he was a bloody beauty. He’d always prided himself on having a knack to pick the good ones. He’d put so much blood, sweat, tears and money into the gelding this past month, he hoped the groundwork had paid off. It was about time to get in the saddle and find out.
    He wasn’t going to sell Rascal either, like he did with almost all of the horses he bought and trained. Annie had loved the gelding the second she’d laid eyes on him, and Rascal had equally loved Annie. To Dylan’s amazement, when he had first brought him home from Emerald Station, the horse had stepped off the trailer and immediately walked over to his daughter, dropped his head, and put his nose to hers, blowing gently and also breathing her in. Their bond had been cemented in that very moment. Annie had spent a lot of time with Rascal since, grooming him, reading him her favourite books and simply loving him, and Rascal followed her around like a loyal puppy dog, no halter or rope needed. He was a completely different horse around her. She was going to be over the moon when she could finally ride him, and seeing his little girl smile made his problematic world feel so much better. His darling Annie was the only reason he dragged himself from bed every day. Without her, his life would be meaningless.
    Walking over to the horse, he made sure to talk calmly as he ran his hand along his withers and neck, then carefully but confidently he placed his boot in the stirrups and planted himself firmly in the saddle. Rascal reacted instantly. Dylan gripped the reins as the gelding did what he was renowned for, and what had almost had him sent to the meatworks. Bucking, twisting and pig rooting like a trained bronco, Rascal did his best to throw Dylan off. But with Dylan’s ability to ride the fiercest bucking broncos around, the gelding had Buckley’s.
    Always trying to see things from the horse’s perspective, Dylan understood the bucking was just a defence mechanism, and once the horse figured out it was safe to have a rider on his back, Rascal would give up the buck, because just like a rocking horse, he wouldn’t keep rocking unless Dylan kept him rocking. He believed horses were a mirror to your soul, feeling what you feel and fearing what you fear. If he showed them they were protected, and could trust him, he’d have a devoted friend for life.
    With his body moving in rhythm with the horse, Dylan persevered, knowing that this wasn’t fearful or panicked bucking, which was usually lightning fast and violent. He knew from experience that Rascal was instead being defiant, his bucking feeling somewhat premeditated, and in comparison to fearful bucking, lazy. Dylan just needed to show Rascal he was the boss, but in a way that wasn’t dominating—he would never use whips or spurs on a horse. In the words of his horseman hero Guy McLean, knowledge, patience, compassion and imagination were what brought man and horse together, not heavy-handedness and domination.
    With his heels down and one arm up in the air for balance, and his stomach and back soft, Dylan flowed with the horse’s movements, rocking when Rascal rocked, ignoring his instinctive reflex to tug on the reins and instead focusing on the beautiful creature beneath him, allowing Rascal to have some freedom of