6. Dani
6
dani
Being back at the ranch is weird enough, but actually working here is the strangest part. Cade isn’t here when I arrive, so I hang around while I wait for Graham to get here.
When I step into the tack room, I’m not sure what I’m expecting, but it isn’t a picture of Cade and me smiling together, both with belt buckles in our hands. We were fifteen in the picture, and I was convinced I was one of those girls who met my soul mate when I was just a young thing.
“Childhood sweethearts” was what our moms would say.
I feel myself getting emotional and quickly step out of the room. Luckily, Graham enters the barn at that moment, and I’m able to redirect my attention to working with him.
We fall into an easy rhythm. Graham still knows everything he needs to about riding a horse, so it’s not about teaching him to ride. It’s about teaching him how to sit, how to move with the horse again after an injury. It’s painful and hard but so worth it. He tells me about his injury, and I assess him before we get started with General.
“My girlfriend’s daughter, Alex, has been riding him for a while,” he explains as I watch him get General ready for their ride.
“That’s great,” I say sincerely.
“Yeah, I was surprised CT was willing to give her lessons.”
I frown. “Why wouldn’t he?”
Graham gives me a funny look and then shakes his head. “No reason.”
I have a weird friendship with Graham. I’ve only seen him around town occasionally since Cade and I broke up, but we don’t talk or interact. Graham kind of acted like he didn’t like me, which was another punch to the gut because back when Cade and I were together, he’d been like a big brother to me.
I ignore the uneasy feeling.
I wasn’t coming back into this family to be friends again; I was doing this so my horse could get over her aversion to the cow, and I could kick ass this season. I was helping Graham because I didn’t have the money to pay Cade for his help and because this was my passion. And knowing someone that I had once cared about was in pain, and I could potentially help him get better, made the decision to help an easy one.
I’ve wanted to help people with riding since I was a teenager. Back when we were showing, there was a man who trained and showed horses. One day, he was in a horrible accident causing a lot of damage to his legs. His nerves were fried. Because of that, he never wanted to ride again.
Eventually, his wife talked him into doing equine therapy and the next year, he was back on the horse. Not showing but coaching and helping his clients again with their horses.
It inspired me, made me want to be someone who could help someone like that.
I’d told my mom about it, and she helped me figure out how to get there.
Now, I am finally doing it.
We walk into the arena, and I grab the step block for him to use. There’s this weird stigma with cowboys where they don’t want to use the blocks, thinking it’s not “cowboy” enough. But when you are injured or have poor upper body strength, it is necessary to use one.
Graham grumbles and steps up to the block. I direct General to stand by the block.
Graham stares at the stirrup, hesitating.
This is the part of physical therapy that is hard for people. It’s not what they think it’s going to be. They all think it’ll be the ride, but usually, it’s the getting on that is hardest.
They don’t say, “Get back on the horse,” for nothing. That analogy comes from real experience. The longer you wait to get on the horse again, the harder it will be.
After several silent moments, Graham grips the saddle horn in his left hand and starts to raise his foot into the stirrup. General, sensing his hesitation, steps his hind legs away from Graham, making him slip and lose contact with him.
“It’s okay,” I assure him, getting General back into position again. Graham stands with his hands on his hips, a clear furrow in his brow. He was already getting frustrated. “When you’re ready, we’ll try again.”
Graham nods and lets out a slow breath. General shuffles his feet, sensing the unease in his owner. I rub the horse’s head, trying to give him something to focus on .
I wait patiently for Graham to make his move. A lot of the first few sessions are just this. We wait, we stay calm, and when the client is ready, they’ll make their move. When I worked at the facility in Fort Collins, I remember how impatient I was when I was shadowing my mentor, but she had assured me that a lot of the time, the clients have to climb over their mental blocks before they can act on the physical ones.
Graham moves again, setting his hand back on the horn and lifting his left boot into the stirrup. He takes a breath and hesitates some more. I wait. The last thing a client needs is me pressuring them.
“I don’t think I can do this,” he says, defeat written all over his face. “Just the thought of it…”
I rub my hand soothingly over General’s neck, granting Graham a minute before I speak. “You know, getting back up there will be really good for you.”
Graham looks at me, and I’m surprised by the vulnerability in his expression.
“But that’s not all this is about. Just being around these horses is therapeutic.”
“It’s not just my leg,” he hedges. “Physically, I’m doing well with my recovery. But riding…it’s bringing back all these memories I wasn’t prepared for. ”
I nod as understanding hits me.
Of course, he hasn’t wanted to ride.
The last time he did, his mom was alive and well with no signs of illness. The last time he rode, Donna Trevors was still the light in that family. They were all still whole. Now it was another tether to her that probably hurt to even think about.
“I won’t pretend to understand,” I tell him with a soft smile. “But I’ll do my best to help you work through this so that the pain you feel when associating this with your mom will turn into the wonderful memories you all shared.”
Graham seems to think over my words, and I let him take his time. After a couple of words, he shakes his head and leans a hand against his horse. “Maybe you’re right, but…” He lets out a deep breath. “I’m just not ready to get on. Not yet.”
I nod and say, “Okay, that’s not a problem. Graham.” I get his attention again. “This isn’t a bad thing. The fact that you’re here, taking this first step to get back on, is a huge accomplishment. Not getting on is not a bad thing.”
He nods his head. “Thanks, Dani.”
We walk out of the arena, where Graham starts to untack General and put away his gear. We talk about some exercises that I think will help keep up his strength, and he admits that he googled physical therapy exercises before and knew about some of them.
We smile as we walk out of the barn, and he gives me a side hug. “Thanks for being understanding.”
“Graham,” I start, returning his unexpected hug. “This takes the time it takes. You may get on in our next session, or it’ll be a few more before you’re ready. This is about the journey, not the destination. Don’t stress yourself over it.”
“Thanks, Dani,” he says, stepping back and wiping above his lip, seeming to be searching for his words. “For what it’s worth, I had no idea how you and Cade ended things. So, I’m sorry for treating you coldly over the last few years.”
I pause and nod. “Thanks, Graham. I appreciate that.”
I leave the ranch shortly after, heading home so I can get to sleep before work in the morning, and I think over Graham’s words.
He had no idea how we ended? The thought makes me wonder who else blamed me for the breakup.