Page 57 of You Met Me There

I try to pay attention, but it’s all stuff I already know. Don’t kick the horse. Don’t pull hard on the reins. Don’t yell at the horses or they’ll get spooked.

It’s all common knowledge, but Natalie is paying close attention to every word Maggie says. She nods along and smiles at one point when Maggie says something funny about the horses occasionally testing their rider.

Struggling to hold myself back from her, I reach out and wrap my fingers between Natalie’s. Her head turns, and her lips lift into a smile. She eyes me like I’m being a distraction and lolls her head toward Maggie, who’s still giving her speech. I roll my eyes playfully and look at the younger girl, silently agreeing to pay closer attention.

“Remain calm while on your horse.” Maggie’s voice carries from the other side of the fence. We were all told to stay on the opposite side while she gives her talk. She slides her hand down the thick neck of a large black horse. “They can sense when you’re nervous or agitated. So, before the ride, we’ll take a few minutes for each of you to spend time with your horse. This will make you both more comfortable. Along the fence over here we have riding helmets. Everyone grab one and meet at the gate so I can pair you up with one of our trail horses.”

I tug on Nat’s hand, guiding her toward the helmets that hang from hooks along the outside of the wooden fence. The other riders, a woman with two teenagers, a boy and a girl, smile at us as they grab their helmets. Natalie tugs one onto her head, fidgeting with the clasp. Her hands are shaking.

“Here, let me help,” I say, bringing my hands to her chin. “Are you nervous?” I ask in a quiet voice.

“A little bit. But mostly excited.” She grins so widely, all her teeth shine like the sequins on her vest.

“Don’t worry. You’ll be fine, and I’ll be right here.” I clip the helmet on and reach over her shoulder for another. The scent of her flowery shampoo and citrus body wash permeates my senses.

Natalie steps back, watching me intently as I clip my own helmet under my chin. She reaches up with both hands to straighten the helmet and tighten the loose chinstrap for me.

“Why do you have to look good in everything? Even this silly helmet makes you look⁠—”

“Sexy? Irresistible? Hot?” I suggest.

“I was going to say cute.”

“I’ll take cute.” I lean down and give her a quick peck on the lips, then tug her toward the gate in the fence line, where Maggie waits for the group.

Nat is the first to get paired with a horse as she’s led over to an older blonde mare. While she pets her and talks in a soothing voice, I get stationed next to a brown mare with white specks on her rump. From the shine in her eyes and the gloss of her coat, I can tell she’s young.

Something in my heart leaps. I haven’t been this excited about a horse in a very long time, and suddenly a swarm of memories floods my mind.

This is going to be fun.

Chapter 29

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.