Chapter Fifteen #2
She pushed it aside quickly, though, tying the ribbons beneath her chin. “It isn’t so difficult,” she murmured under her breath.
It was only sitting and guiding, after all. She’d seen the men ride every day, easy in the saddle, as though it were second nature.
How hard can it be?
Clara was standing near the doorway when Ruth turned, her small hands clasped behind her back, her expression uncertain.
Ruth softened immediately. “It will be all right,” she said gently, crossing the room. “We’re only going into town.”
Clara didn’t move, but her gaze flicked toward the window, then back to Ruth.
Ruth crouched, smoothing a hand over her sister’s hair. “You’ll sit in front of me,” she explained softly. “I’ll hold you the whole way.”
Clara hesitated, then nodded slowly.
Ruth smiled. “That’s it,” she murmured. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
The words lingered between them, though Ruth wasn’t sure if they were meant to reassure Clara so much as herself.
Back downstairs, she moved quickly, gathering what little she needed. She slipped her gloves on and adjusted the satchel at her side, making sure everything was secure.
Her pulse had been steadily picking up speed since breakfast, making her heart flutter uncomfortably against her ribs.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped out onto the porch and into the sunlight, the ranch stretching wide before her.
She knew Henry’s routine well enough by now to know he’d already be out along the fence line, walking the boundaries to check posts for damage. He wouldn’t return any time soon, and that knowledge settled something inside her.
Ruth drew another steady breath and stepped down into the yard.
The path to the stables felt longer than usual, perhaps because, with each step she grew more aware of what she was doing, the choice she’d made.
Ruth paused just inside the stable, letting her eyes adjust to the dim interior. A horse shifted in its stall, the soft sound echoing faintly.
Her grip tightened on her satchel as she finally moved farther in. “You can do this, Ruth,” she whispered.
“Heading somewhere?”
Ruth whirled around to see George in the doorway, a saddle on his shoulder.
“Henry said I might take one of the horses into town,” she replied breathily. “We’re going to church.” The lie felt strange on her tongue.
George paused, studying her intently. “Did he, now?”
Ruth met his gaze with a jerky nod. “He did.”
Then, to her relief, George nodded slowly. “All right. And you’ve ridden before?”
“A long time ago,” she said quickly, desperately hoping her wavering voice wouldn’t give her away.
George’s brows lifted in mild surprise. “All right.” he repeated. “I’ll give you a quick refresher, then.”
Before she could protest, he was moving down the line of stalls, returning moments later with a calm, sturdy-looking mare in tow.
“This is Daisy,” he said, patting the horse’s neck affectionately. “She won’t give you any trouble—so long as you don’t give her a reason to.”
Ruth eyed the animal carefully.
She won’t bite,” he added dryly.
“That’s… reassuring,” Ruth said.
He huffed, then beckoned her closer. “Come on. I’ll show you.”
Ruth stepped forward, Clara’s hand still in hers.
George adjusted the saddle, checking the straps with practiced ease before turning back to her. “You mount from the left,” he explained. “Put your foot in the stirrup here—hold the saddle, now, not the reins. Don’t pull on her mouth unless you mean to.”
Ruth nodded quickly, trying to take it all in.
“Swing your leg over. Slowly—don’t startle her.”
Easier said than done.
Ruth gathered her skirts awkwardly, placing her foot where he indicated. The leather creaked beneath her weight as she pulled herself up, her balance uncertain for a moment before she managed to settle, gripping the saddle tightly.
George steadied the mare with one hand. “Relax,” he said. “You’re stiff as a board.”
“I’m trying not to fall,” Ruth replied curtly.
“That’ll make it worse.”
She shot him a look, but loosened her grip.
“Reins go here,” he continued, guiding her hands. “Gentle pressure. Not too tight. She’ll follow your lead, but you’ve got to be clear about it.”
Ruth nodded again.
Then, George helped Clara up, settling her carefully in front of Ruth. Clara’s small hands gripped the saddle as Ruth wrapped one arm protectively around her.
George stepped back, studying them both. “You’ll want to keep to a walk,” he warned. “No rushing. If she picks up speed, pull back steadily—no sudden movements—and keep your heels down.”
Ruth swallowed. “Heels down. Got it.”
“And if she spooks …” He stopped.
Ruth’s eyes widened slightly. “If she what?”
“Just hold tight and stay on.”
Ruth stared at him. “That’s your advice?”
George gave a small shrug.
Despite herself, Ruth almost smiled.
George’s expression softened. “You’ll be all right,” he added. “Just take it slow.”
Ruth drew a breath, steadying herself. “I will.” She adjusted her hold on Clara, then gave the reins the smallest tug.
As Daisy shifted, then stepped forward, Ruth’s heart jumped, but she held steady.
One step and then another.
They moved slowly out into the yard with a rhythm that was wholly unfamiliar, though Ruth did her best to hide her nerves.
George watched them go, arms folded loosely. “Take your time,” he called after her.
Ruth nodded, but kept her eyes forward.
Soon, the road stretched ahead, long and open beneath the wide Kansas sky. The morning air was fresh, carrying the scent of grass and earth, and the distant sound of rustling grass drifted on the wind.
Ruth kept her focus on guiding Daisy along. Anyone who might happen upon them would probably not call her riding graceful, but they were moving. Clara leaned into her, calm and trusting, and Ruth allowed herself a small breath of relief.
We’ll make it.
The town came into view slowly, and before long, Ruth saw the steeple rising above the buildings, simple but unmistakable.
A smile broke across Ruth’s face at the sight. “We’re nearly there,” she whispered with quiet excitement.
For a moment, everything felt right, like something she’d been missing was finally within reach.
Then, without warning, Daisy jerked.
Ruth gasped, her hands tightening instinctively on the reins. “Easy?—?”
Something moved in the brush, and Daisy reared.
Ruth cried out, one arm wrapping around Clara as the world tilted beneath them. “Hold on!”
The mare came down hard—and bolted.
The reins burned against Ruth’s hands as they surged forward, hooves pounding against the dirt road in a frantic rhythm. The landscape blurred, and wind tore at her hair, her shawl slipping as she struggled to keep her balance, to keep Clara steady in front of her.
“Whoa, Daisy! Stop!” Ruth’s voice broke, and panic surged through her as she realized with sharp, terrifying certainty that she had no control at all.