Like the Rein

Chapter One

Emily

The moment I step into the vast new American Reining Horse Association facilities, the scent of fresh hay and leather hits me like a wave. I take a deep breath, reminding myself to stay focused. My small team is already setting up their gear by the riding arena, but my attention is quickly drawn to a familiar figure walking across the barn.

Travis Phillips.

I can't help but roll my eyes as he leans casually against a stall, adjusting his saddle with the confidence of someone who thinks he’s got everything figured out. When he spots me, he flashes that grin—the one that’s probably charmed more than a few women—and maybe even some men—when they least expected it. Perfect.

"Hey there, Emily," he calls out, his voice smooth like honey over warm biscuits. "Ready for a show?"

"Not a show. A shoot," I reply, keeping my tone short. I’m not about to let him think I’m here for anything but work.

"Always so serious, huh?" He pushes off the stall and walks closer, his brown eyes gleaming with mischief. “You know, Lena talks about you all the time. I didn’t expect her sister to be so… well, businesslike.”

“She talks about you too,” I fire back, my heart suddenly racing for reasons I refuse to admit. "Mostly how you’re always joking around when she’s trying to focus."

"That’s just my charm," he winks, and I feel a mix of irritation and warmth creeping into my cheeks. His easy-going attitude reminds me of every cowboy I’ve tried to avoid since high school.

"Charming or not, we need to get this video done." I motion for my team to start rolling, hoping Travis gets the hint. But he doesn’t move.

"Video? You should see me before a real show," he says, striking a dramatic pose. "I can put on quite the performance."

"Right, because we’re here for the Travis Show," I deadpan, crossing my arms. The last thing I need is for him to think I’m enjoying this—although part of me wonders if he could pull it off.

"Just trying to lighten the mood, Em." He steps closer, his playful energy mixing with the seriousness of my task. "You know, if you ever wanted to have a little fun…"

"Focus, Travis," I cut him off, my voice sharper than I meant. "We’re here to recruit new members, remember?"

"Recruiting, right." He straightens up, still teasing, but now a little more sincere. He strides over to the center of the arena, his long legs carrying him effortlessly, and I follow, camera in hand.

"Show me your best moves, cowboy," I challenge, hiding my smile behind the lens.

"Only if you promise to keep that serious face while I do," he shoots back, and I can't stop myself from laughing as I snap the picture.

With each click of the camera, the tension between us starts to shift, like we’re caught in a dance where I’m both leading and being led. Despite myself, I can’t deny it—he knows how to put on a show.

The elevator doors close with a soft thud, and as soon as I press the button for the ground floor, the lights flicker. A low hum vibrates beneath my feet. I glance at Travis, who leans against the wall, arms crossed, still wearing that grin.

"Just our luck, huh?" he says, tilting his head as though this is all just part of some adventure.

"Yeah, lucky us," I mutter, my heart racing. The numbers above the door flicker—3, 2, 1—then everything goes dark. The elevator jolts to a stop.

"Great," I snap, turning to him. "What now?"

"Hey, it’s probably just a glitch." He shrugs, though I can see a hint of worry in his eyes. His usual lighthearted attitude wavers just slightly, and I feel anxiety building inside me.

"Just a glitch?" I echo, my voice rising. “We’re stuck! In an elevator!” Panic surges through me, and without thinking, I fumble for my phone, fingers trembling. I hit Lena’s contact and press the phone to my ear, hoping she’ll answer.

"Emily? What's wrong?" Her voice is soft but filled with concern.

"Uh, we’re trapped!" I blurt out, pacing the tiny space, feeling the walls close in. "In the elevator. What do I do?"

"Okay, okay. Just breathe," she replies, trying to stay calm even though I can tell she’s worried too. "What am I supposed to do about it?"

"How should I know?" I nearly yell, frustration spilling over. "I thought you’d have some brilliant idea or something."

"Em, I don’t… I don’t know either. Just… hang tight?"

"Hang tight?" I scoff, panic turning into irritation. "That’s helpful."

"Emily…"

"Forget it." I hang up and shove my phone back in my pocket, feeling my fear crash over me like a tidal wave.

"Are you always this dramatic?" Travis asks, his voice teasing, but the tension in his jaw says otherwise.

"Not usually," I snap, crossing my arms. "But try being stuck in a box with a cowboy for half an hour and see how calm you stay."

"Okay, let’s focus." He steps closer, his playful tone shifting to something more serious. “What’s making you freak out? Is it the darkness?”

"No," I say, but my voice trembles. I can’t meet his eyes. “It’s... everything. I hate confined spaces.”

"Okay, that makes sense." He nods slowly, his expression thoughtful. "Have you ever been in a situation like this before?"

"Once, for a few minutes," I admit, my throat tight. “But I was alone, and my heart didn’t feel like it was going to explode.”

"Then let’s take it step by step." His voice is calming now, every word measured. “Close your eyes for a second. Can you do that?”

"Why would I want to do that?" I protest, but something in his steady gaze makes me do it. I squeeze my eyes shut and take a deep breath, listening to his voice.

"Good. Now picture yourself somewhere else. Anywhere but here. What do you see?"

"Um…" My mind races, trying to find a peaceful place. “A field. Open air. Horses grazing.”

"See? It’s peaceful, right? You’re free."

"Yeah, maybe," I murmur, trying to focus on his words. I can hear the faint hum of the elevator’s machinery, but his presence starts to ground me.

"Keep picturing that. You’re safe. No walls closing in. Just you and those horses."

"Okay," I whisper, starting to feel more at ease.

"Good. And when those doors open, you’ll walk out, and we’ll forget this ever happened."

"Right," I reply, opening my eyes to find him watching me. There’s something different about him now—something real beneath the playful façade. I suddenly don’t feel so alone in this cramped space.

The elevator jerks to life, the doors sliding open with a soft hiss. I step out into the bright hallway, sunlight flooding my senses, lifting the weight from my chest. I glance back at Travis, who follows me out, his casual demeanor returning like nothing happened.

"Thanks," I say, my voice still a little shaky, but I push through. "I don’t think I could’ve made it without you."

"Anytime," he says, leaning casually against the wall. His dark blue eyes twinkle with mischief again, but the seriousness from earlier still lingers.

"How about we grab a drink sometime?" he asks, leaning in just enough to make it feel like an invitation.

"That’s not going to happen,” I blurt out, the words slipping out before I can stop them. I shake my head, trying to sound firm. “I’m really not interested in cowboys.”

He raises an eyebrow, surprised, but the amusement in his eyes is still there. “And I’m just a cowboy? What if I told you I’m also a marketing genius?”

"Right," I say, crossing my arms. “A marketing genius who rides horses for fun.”

"Hey, don’t knock it till you try it," he laughs, his grin infectious, though I try to keep my composure. But beneath the laughter, I sense something different in his eyes, a seriousness I wasn’t expecting.

"Look, Travis," I start, my voice steadying, "I know your type. Charming and funny, but I’ve seen how this goes. I’ve watched it tear my sister apart. I’m not falling for that again."

"Emily," he says softly, his tone shifting to something more sincere. "I get it. But not all cowboys are the same. Just because one hurt you doesn’t mean we all will."

His words hang in the air, and for a moment, I feel the tension between us. I want to argue, to push him away, but there’s a part of me that wants to stay, just for a second, and let my guard down.

"Thanks for the offer, but I think I’ll pass," I finally say, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach my eyes. "I prefer my life without rodeos and heartbreak."

"Fair enough," he replies, a shadow of disappointment passing over his face. "Just remember, not all cowboys are bad news."

"Yeah, well… we’ll see," I say, turning to walk away, my heart racing with uncertainty.

As I walk down the hallway, I can feel his eyes on me, full of curiosity and challenge. And despite myself, I wonder what it would be like to let a cowboy in—just once.