“Knew you would.”
Hunter saddles her up with a practiced efficiency that makes the whole process look like second nature. Because for him, it is. He’s probably done this ten thousand times.
He leads Penny out into the yard and then turns to me. “Alright, city girl. Left foot in the stirrup. Grab the horn, that’s the front bit—and swing your right leg over.”
I stare at the stirrup. It’s higher than I expected. “It’s like… really high up.”
“It’s a horse, baby. Not a skyscraper.”
“From down here, there’s no difference.”
He laughs, cups his hands together, and offers them as a step. “Left foot. Push up. Swing over. I’ve got you.”
I put my foot in his hands, grab the horn, and push. There’s an incredibly ungraceful moment where I’m stuck halfway, one leg up, one leg dangling, arms flailing, and I let out a sound that’s somewhere between a yelp and a dying bird.
Hunter boosts me the rest of the way with one hand on my ass, and suddenly I’m sitting in the saddle.
On a horse.
Very high up.
“Oh my God,” I breathe.
“You good?”
“I’m on a horse, Hunter.”
“Yeah, baby. You are.” He grins up at me. “And you look damn good doing it.”
Penny shifts her weight, and I grab the horn with both hands. “She moved. Why did she move?”
“Because she’s alive.”
“Right. Okay. That’s fair.”
He adjusts my stirrups, shows me how to hold the reins, and how to use my heels and my seat to tell Penny what I want.
I’m totally out of my depth here.
“Don’t grip with your knees. Relax your hips. Let her carry you. She knows what she’s doing even if you don’t.”
“That’s rude.”
“It’s true.”
Hunter swings up onto Tornado, who, naturally, stands perfectly still for him like a gentleman and nudges him alongside Penny.
“We’ll take it slow. Just a walk to start. Let her do the work.”
We start moving. And it’s… terrifying. And completely unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.
The first few minutes, I’m rigid, gripping the reins too tight, sitting too stiff, holding my breath every time Penny so much as twitches an ear.
But Hunter talks me through it. “Relax your shoulders. There you go. Sit back a little. Let your weight settle. She can feel everything you’re feeling, so the calmer you are, the calmer she is.”
Slowly, impossibly, I start to relax. My hips find the rhythm of Penny’s walk. My hands soften on the reins. My breathing evens out. And then something shifts, some invisible barrier between this animal and me dissolves, and I’m not just sitting on her anymore. I’m riding her.
“There she is,” Hunter says, smiling. “Look at you, city girl.”