The Wildwood Sisters Read Online Free Page B

movement. For if he tightened up, he would just become a spring that the horse’s exaggerated movements would bounce right out of the saddle. And then the horse would think it had won. Just like a mother with her baby, this process was all about being gentle.
    With the horse slowly beginning to wane in his fight-or-flight instincts, Dylan pushed Rascal forward by squeezing his legs, directing him into a trot and then a canter. Rascal responded to Dylan’s gentle commands without too much of a fight, the trust between man and horse now becoming evident. He guided Rascal around the yard, concentrating on his body language, making sure to change direction every now and then so the horse remained focused on his cues. Then, pulling the reins a little tighter and sitting back in the saddle, Dylan silently instructed Rascal to stop, and the horse did.
    He knew Rascal had it in him to be a good horse—until now he just hadn’t had the right person in the saddle to prove it was safe to trust a human. Mindfully tugging the reins to one side and then the other, Dylan got Rascal to bring his head to each of his knees, and then pulling a little more firmly again, he got him to back up. Thrilled with the horse’s progress, but not wanting to push him any further for today, Dylan let go of the tension on the reins and leant forward to give Rascal a rub on the neck. ‘You’re a good boy, Rascal. From the minute I laid my eyes on you I knew you had it in ya. You just needed someone to trust, didn’t ya mate?’
    Rascal’s ears twitched as he turned his head to look at Dylan, his eyes bright and focused, his body language relaxed.
    â€˜Daddy!’ Annie’s angelic voice carried across the round yard, capturing Dylan’s attention. ‘You’re finally riding him, yay!’
    With Rascal turning towards the voice he loved, Dylan met eyes as dazzlingly blue as his own. Annie’s waist-length sandy blonde hair was no longer neatly in a ponytail but was instead hanging haphazardly around her petite, dirt-smudged face as she skipped along the gravel driveway. She graced him with a big gap-toothed smile and Dylan’s heart melted, as it did with so many beautifully innocent things Annie did.
    â€˜Hi, sweetheart, I sure am. And Rascal’s being a very good boy…’ His eyes travelled down to the splats of mud on Annie’s school uniform. He couldn’t help but grin. Annie rarely returned from anywhere without some kind of mess covering her and her clothes. His little angel was a tomboy through and through, much like her mother, although she did love playing around with her mum’s make-up sometimes. ‘What have you been up to between the bus stop and here, Annabel Rose Anderson?’
    Annie looked down to where her dad was eyeballing, giggling as she tried unsuccessfully to tidy herself up. She sucked in her bottom lip and pointed to the left of her. ‘You can blame Bossy for that. She was so excited to see me she bowled me over right in a big yucky puddle.’ Their Great Dane, Bossy, tap danced happily beside her, her long legs proportionate to her massive head. The dog religiously met Annie at the bus stop every day and was never far from her side. They were the best of mates and it was comforting to know she had a fiercely loyal bodyguard in her canine pal.
    Dylan chuckled and rolled his eyes. ‘Poor Bossy, she always gets the blame. Even when you’re the one sneakily feeding her your dinner.’
    Trying not to laugh, Annie placed her hands on her hips. ‘It’s not my fault she pinches it from my fingers.’
    â€˜Well of course she’s going to take it from your fingers when you’re dangling your hand beneath the table, Annabel.’ Dylan playfully shook his head as he spotted Annie’s two pet ducks, Funky and Groovy, making a mad dash across the round yard just so they could side-track Bossy.
    Annie grabbed Bossy’s