As Zane finished calling out names, several cowboys appeared leading horses. There was a brass nameplate on each bridle, corresponding with what he’d called out. Phoebe looked for a horse named Rocky.

When he appeared, he was a brunette with legs that turned dark on the bottom. His mane and tail were black, as well.

Phoebe offered Rocky a tentative smile. He did not respond.

“Listen up,” Zane said. “Who here has been on a horse before?”

Eddie and Gladys raised their hands. Martin’s went up, too. Zane asked about their riding experience.

“Shane Stryker gave us lessons last summer, and then we rode as elder warriors in the Maá-zib parade last year,” Eddie said. “We offered to go topless, to be real authentic, but Mayor Marsha wouldn’t let us.”

“Since then, we go out to the Castle Ranch about once a month to keep our muscles limber,” Gladys added.

Martin said he’d had lessons as a kid.

Zane explained the basics of riding a horse. While the guests weren’t working cowboys, on the trail they would be expected to help with the care of their horses. That meant making sure the animal had plenty of water, taking off the saddles in the evening and basic equine grooming. Using his horse, a rust-colored gelding, he demonstrated how to mount.

Phoebe looked from Zane’s horse to hers. They seemed to be about the same size, at least in height. Rocky was a bit on the lean side with long legs.

Speaking of legs—she glanced from hers to Zane’s. There was a difference of several inches in length, which meant there was no way she would be able to put one foot into the stirrup and swing her way up to the saddle the way he had. She needed a chair or bench or stool or something.

Right as she realized the problem, Zane turned toward her. Her heart sprouted wings and did a quick turn around her chest, but before he reached her, Chase appeared at her side.

“Ready?” he asked.

She shifted her attention to Zane, but he’d already moved over to help Gladys. She swallowed her disappointment and smiled at the young man.

“Is there a stepping stool?” she asked.

“Sure.” He laced his fingers together and held them a little above knee high.

Phoebe wrinkled her nose. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Chase winked. “Not possible, even if you are a goddess.”

“Oh, right. What is it with you cowboy types? You and Cookie should get together and write a book of pickup lines.”

“We’re talkin’ about it.” He touched the side of her leg with his finger. “Come on, Phoebe. Show everyone how it’s done. Put your left foot on my hands. We’ll count to three, and you’ll spring on up to the saddle.”

She wasn’t too confident about the whole “springing” part. Rocky’s saddle looked really high up. There was also the worry of springing too far and finding herself sliding off the other side, which wasn’t how she wanted to start her morning.

But if she planned to go on the cattle drive, she had to get her butt onto a horse...literally. Sucking in a breath for courage, she grabbed the front of the saddle with both hands, placed her booted foot onto the man-made step Chase offered, then counted to three.

As she pushed off the ground with her right foot, Chase lifted her high into the air. She swung her leg over in an almost graceful move and found herself plopping down on a very hard, very small saddle.

Until that moment, Phoebe had always thought Western-style saddles were huge. But now that she was in one—and about forty feet from the ground—she felt as if she were perched on something the size of a saucer. Rocky shifted, which made her grab for the saddle horn.

“Do I have to be up this high?” she asked.

Chase chuckled. “You’ll get used to it.”

She had her doubts.

Chase fiddled with some buckles on the saddle and adjusted the stirrup so that she could rest her foot in it. As he worked, he put a hand on her calf.

“The best part,” he said with a wink.

Of course Zane was close enough to hear, and he scowled at his brother. “Keep your mind on your work.”

Chase responded by rolling his eyes.

Eddie and Gladys got on their horses with an ease Phoebe envied. Kind of embarrassing, being shown up by two septuagenarian cowgirls. Maya was also at home several stories in the air. After Chase adjusted Maya’s stirrups, she rode over to Phoebe and reined in her horse.

“How are you doing?” she asked.

Phoebe shrugged. “I’m trying not to look at the ground.”

Maya laughed. “You’ll get used to it. Remember, the trick is to move with your horse. Try to relax into his stride so you’re not bouncing. If you don’t, you’ll be sore for days.”

Phoebe had a feeling she was going to be sore for the rest of her life, but she was determined to tough it out. She hadn’t been on a vacation in years, and with her future looking doubtful, she had a feeling she wouldn’t be on one again for a long time. So she’d better enjoy this one.

The two children were given scaled-down versions of real horses. They both looked as apprehensive as Phoebe felt. C.J. watched as Chase checked their stirrups.

“Are you two all right?” she asked. “We can still change our minds about this.”

The question was reasonable enough, but Phoebe couldn’t shake the feeling that C.J. wanted the children to say they didn’t want to go, which made her feel badly. Lucy and Tommy looked at each other and grinned.