“Wow.” He looked toward the horses, then back at me, his grin turning wicked. “This is surprising. Kinda humanizes you a bit. You’re so good at everything, but turns out you’re scared of these sweet babies.”
He offered up his fist to the horse closest to him, and after a moment, the horse nosed his knuckles, then nudged into his palm like he’d decided Sawyer belonged to him. Sawyer rubbed his neck, murmuring something I couldn’t hear, and the horse practically melted.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “You’ll be fine. These are trail horses, so they’re used to new riders.”
“I’ve ridden one before. When I was younger.”
“Oh? What happened?”
“Buttercup and I don’t speak of it.”
Sawyer’s laugh carried across the stable yard. “Buttercup?”
“Don’t let the name fool you. She was temperamental.”
“Aw, she was probably a pony.”
“Pony or not, she knows what she did.”
“Sawyer?” A woman in a vest and riding boots was heading our way, her dark hair pulled back beneath a helmet and two lead ropes in hand.
“That’s me, and this is Beckett,” he said, and she smiled at both of us.
“I’m Maren.” The chestnut gelding nudged Sawyer again, and she added, “Looks like Jasper’s already chosen you. Beckett, we’ll set you up with Duchess.”
The dark bay mare turned her head and stared directly at me.
I stared back, and Sawyer leaned in. “She looks like she’s judging you.”
“Likewise.”
“She’s sweet,” Maren promised.
Duchess flicked an ear at that.
“Sweet,” I repeated.
Out of the corner of my eye, I swore I saw Sawyer’s mouth twitch. “Don’t show fear.”
“I’m not.”
“You’re holding your breath.”
So I was. I exhaled slowly as Maren led us past the gate.
“I know you have extensive experience already, Sawyer, so I’ll just be here as backup in case you need anything on the trail or have questions. Do you need any help mounting the horse?”
“I got it, thank you.” Sawyer turned back to me. “You sure you’re good to do this? Or do you wanna use the safe word?”
I eyed Duchess again. Maybe my nine-year-old brain had exaggerated things and it wasn’t as bad as I remembered. Or maybe being older and wiser meant this would be a cakewalk.
If Sawyer can face his ex all week, you can get on this horse.
“Yeah. Let’s do it,” I said. How hard could it be?
He winked at me and stepped in close, his shoulder brushing mine. “Okay, foot goes here. Hands here, but don’t yank the reins. Duchess doesn’t need you to panic-steer.”
“I won’t panic-steer.”