29. Natalie
Natalie
Riding a horse is way harder than I thought.
In the movies it always looks graceful, even during a high-speed gallop where you can hardly see the horse’s hooves because of how fast they’re running.
The riders usually have one hand on the reins, the other held out as they feel the rush of the wind pass them, rustling their hair and blowing back their cowboy hats.
I’ve always wanted to feel that—the wind on my face while speeding over a grassy hill on a horse whose powerful body could face any terrain.
But the movies are wrong. At least in my experience. Riding a horse is nothing like that. For me, it most certainly is not fast, nor is it graceful. But hey, I’m just a beginner. I shouldn’t have expected anything more than what I’m experiencing right now.
Blondie, the beautiful pale horse I’ve been paired with, walks lazily along the dirt path. I duck away from branches that threaten to stab my eyes. We lumber forward, following the five horses that walk ahead.
The first horse on the trail is the leader.
The girl leading our little band of first-timers is a natural, turning in her saddle to address us when we pass something worth mentioning: a waterfall hidden in the trees, the wooden bridge we crossed—which was much harder to ride over than it looks—and an eagle soaring overhead when we came to an opening in the trail.
Unfortunately, I haven’t heard anything she’s said. Each person ahead of me has to repeat her words back for the rest of us behind her to catch it. Thankfully, I make up the rear of our little six-person horse train. I don’t have to shout back to anyone. Luke rides directly in front of me.
And he’s an absolute pro.
I don’t know how he does it. Luke sits tall on his brown mare, knees in, feet angled, back straight.
His riding helmet is unsurprisingly sexy on him—like everything always is—and I watch with narrowed eyes as he shifts his weight with the horse’s gait, maneuvering branches and holding the reins as if he’s done it all his life.
“That one’s named Hector,” he shouts back to me, repeating the trail leader’s words and pointing at the sky.
How he can manage to hold on with one hand and stay seated is beyond my understanding. I feel like I’m sitting on a lumpy rolling boulder. Blondie’s shoulders dip as she walks. I feel sort of bad, like maybe she has an injury and I’m hurting her further.
But Maggie wouldn’t give me an injured horse, right?
“Did you hear me?” Luke asks.
“Yeah,” I grit out through my tense jaw. “I heard you.”
I look up, squinting at the blue sky and seeing nothing but the blinding sun.
I assume they’re still talking about the eagles.
All I see is the obnoxious shimmering of the sequins on my vest. I thought wearing something sparkly and pink, along with new pink Western boots, would make this even more fun.
Why stop at horses when you can go full-on cowgirl?
But now I see it would have been better to wear something that doesn’t have the potential to blind me. I’m tense from worrying that I’ll fall off the horse and disappointed because I can’t properly see the beautiful view around me.
Luke rests his hand on his thigh with all the grace and leisure of a seasoned rider. He looks like a real cowboy. For the past thirty minutes I’ve stared at his back, his lean muscles rippling under his thin white tee. The material is starting to stick to his skin in the humidity.
Summer in Pennsylvania is hotter than I remember. Florida is hot too, but it’s a different kind of heat. Here, there’s no ocean breeze to cool you down.
Luke effortlessly moves another branch to the side.
“You look like you’ve done this before!” I shout up at him.
He turns his upper body to look around his shoulder at me, a smile pulling at the side of his mouth.
“I used to ride as a kid,” he says.
I move the branch that Luke had touched, my movements far less graceful. “Really? I didn’t know that. When did you stop?” I grip the reins in my fists like that alone will keep me from falling.
“When I was eighteen.”
“Wait. You mean you rode horses until I met you?”
“Yeah, I guess so.” He shrugs and turns back to the trail.
A shadow crosses the sunny path, and I look up quickly to see an eagle fly overhead and out of sight. That must be Hector.
“Why did you stop?” I ask.
He looks back at me. “What?”
“I said, why did you stop riding when you met me?”
Blondie staggers on a dip in the path, and I throw my hand forward to balance myself against her neck. We were told not to do that, but it’s instinct.
“I guess I just didn’t find it that interesting anymore. I found someone else to occupy my time.” He doesn’t turn back or look at me, but I can tell from the angle of his jaw and the motion in his neck that he’s smiling.
The guide calls something back to us again, but I can’t make out what she says; I’m too focused on what Luke revealed.
Those early days of us dating and me moving to Florida with his family are so special to me.
It was the first time I’d really left home and the first time I’d ever been in love.
My stomach dances like leaves in the wind, and I can’t help but smile too.
My pale horse slows her gait, and I’m pulled back to the present.
We slow so much that she’s practically not moving at all.
I watch as the others get farther and farther away, while Blondie stops in her tracks all together.
I don’t know what to do. She lowers her nose to the ground, and I lean backward, trying to stay on her back but afraid I’ll slip down her neck and over her head.
“Come on, Blondie. Let’s go,” I say sweetly.
She doesn’t budge.
Although I have no idea what I’m doing, I nudge her sides with my ankles. It’s something I’ve seen in movies. However, it does nothing to encourage her to walk along. She lifts her head, munching on grass like she doesn’t have a care in the world.
I click my tongue at her. “Walk,” I say, pushing my hips forward, hoping the motion will ease her onward.
She ignores me.
I shout in Luke’s direction. “Hey, wait!”
He’s slipping behind the bend, and then … he’s gone. The trees block my view of the whole group.
“Noooo, no, no, no.” I pat Blondie on the neck, struggling to get her attention. “You can’t just stand here, Blondie. Everyone’s leaving us. We have to go.” Panic laces my voice. What if she never moves? What if we lose the group and get lost?
The horse’s head turns as she looks at me, and I swear she rolls her eyes. It feels like she’s doing this on purpose. She’s testing me, just like Maggie warned.
I huff. “Of course I’d get the difficult one. Fine, Blondie. I’ll walk back myself.”
With very little knowledge on how to actually dismount a horse, I grip the horn on the front of the saddle, shift my weight onto my left foot in the stirrup where my new boots shine, and swing my right foot over the back of the horse.
She bolts.
I scream. I hang onto the saddle as tight as I possibly can, pressing my stomach against its side.
Hooves beat against the dirt. My right foot dangles.
I try to stand in the stirrup and swing my leg back over, hoping I can put my butt back in the saddle, but the horse’s movements are uneven and jerky on the crooked path.
“Stop! Whoa!” I scream, eyes watering from the wind that rushes across my face. I’m going to die. I’m going to get thrown into a tree or trampled by a horse, and I’m going. To. Die.
My hands cramp, tiring quickly, sweaty fingers slipping from the saddle horn. Letting go isn’t an option. I could be dragged through the woods if my foot gets stuck in the stirrup.
Blondie runs on, hooves pounding in my ears. My body hurts as the saddle knocks against my stomach in painful, jerky movements.
“Help!!” Someone has to hear me. The others have to be close enough. “Luke!! Help Me!” I scream.
Branches whip past my head. One catches my hair, sending pain across my scalp as hair gets ripped from the roots. My hands slip a little more from the saddle. I dig my nails into the leather until it hurts so badly I think my nails might tear off.
“Woah! Woah, girl!” a strong voice calls from ahead. Blondie slows, and I almost cry from relief. Someone’s here to help.
“Shh, girl. Whoooa.” It’s Luke! My heart races with adrenaline.
Blondie walks a few more steps, swinging her head back and forth. When she finally stops moving, she paws at the ground with her hoof in what I fear is agitation.
“Natalie! Are you okay?!” Luke grabs the bridle at the horse’s head and slides his hand along the horse’s neck, taking the reins. Relief rushes over me when I feel his hand slide around my hip, and he guides me to the ground. Blondie fidgets, stomping her feet.
“Whoa, girl, whoa.” Luke pats her rump, and she settles. “What happened?” He looks at me, scanning my face, looking for injuries.
I shake my head. “I don’t know. I don’t know what happened. She stopped to eat something and wouldn’t move, so I was just going to walk. But when I was getting down, she bolted.” My hands shake between us as I reach for him.
Luke guides me to his chest, pulling me into the safety of his arms. I reach around his waist, letting his unshakable body hold me up.
I don’t want to cry, but the adrenaline is wearing away.
I’m in the middle of the high and the low—the fear and the safe place.
Luke holds the horse securely as he wraps his free arm around the back of my head.
He tells me I’m okay as I cry into his neck.
“You’re okay, I got you,” he says. “You’re safe now.”
The dream of riding a horse wasn’t all that I thought it would be.
With tears of fear and disappointment flowing, I look up at Luke and hiccup one sentence: “We should have gone sky diving.”
He stares at me, searching my eyes. Then a smile cracks across his face and he laughs, his body shaking against mine. He brings his lips to my forehead and holds me against him.
I melt into his touch, his steady heartbeat grounding me. I’m safe and loved, and, right now, that’s all that matters.