The entire time I saddled her up, I kept an ear trained for footsteps.
Dad coddled me like a toddler. He listened to everything my therapists said, and if he caught me now, he’d freak. Luckily, though, he was still at school. As for Mama, she was elbow deep grooming a family of dogs checking out. A big part of me wanted to share this with her, but in some ways, she was worse than Dad. She wanted me to ride again, even encouraged me, but she refused to believe that I could handle it now. That the doctors didn’t know everything. It hurt, too, because she knew how this felt. She grew up on this ranch; the need to ride flowed through her veins every bit as much as it did mine.
Once Oakley and I were ready, I grabbed the reins. My grip was still off, my muscles not quite responding like they used to, but I could make adjustments for that. We breached the entrance to the barn and another thrill of, “holy hell, I’m going to do this,” shot through me.
With a click of my tongue, Oakley and I made our way to the open field.
“Hey, Peyton.”
I nearly jumped out of my skin. Throwing a hand onto Oakley’s back to steady myself, I turned and watched as Trevor yanked out an earbud and lifted his chin toward me. “I thought you couldn’t ride yet.”
Here’s the thing… I hated lying. I hated it almost as much as I hated not riding. But even this small distraction from my goal let other things seep through my filter: fear that maybe I wasn’t ready; memories of this morning; Justin’s cruel betrayal this afternoon.
Lying was my only solution.
“Got the green light yesterday,” I replied. “Just couldn’t wait another second.”
“I hear that,” he said with a nod, already lifting his earbud to replace it. “It’d be the same with me and golf. Congratulations.”
That was all it took. Trevor sort of lived in his own world half the time, and today, I was grateful for it. He shoved his earbud back in, bobbed his head, and headed for the doghouse. I hesitated for a second, worried he’d mention this to Mama, but then, this was Trevor I was talking about. If he told her hello it’d be a mouthful.
Breathing deep with relief, I continued on.
I wished I’d brought some music. The quiet was too… quiet. It let me think too much. Every footfall brought another whisper. Of Lauren’s thinly veiled taunts. Of Justin’s agonized voice, calling my name. Of my therapists saying I couldn’t ride yet. That my muscles were still too weak.
That’s probably what Lauren thought I was, too. Weak. Justin must as well or he wouldn’t have hurt me the way he did. But I’d show them. I’d show them all.
At the field, I rolled my neck back and forth. I breathed deeply, in and out, and put my hand on the saddle horn. I could do this.
Up on Oakley’s back, I stared out at the miles of open field ahead, ready to prove just how strong I was. I took the reins and wrapped them around my forearm. That gave my slightly weakened fingers more control. I sat up tall and clucked my tongue.
“Let’s ride, girl.”
We started at a trot. My hips rocked back and forth in the saddle and tears pricked my eyes. I was finally home.
Nothing compared to this feeling. Getting it back this summer would keep me sane. Nudging Oakley’s flank, I urged her on, needing to feel the wind whip across my face. Needing to listen to sounds muffle under the pounding of hooves. I needed to lose myself.
I was so consumed with pushing my limits that I didn’t hear the tires on the road.
The rhythm of the ride enthralled me so much that I didn’t hear Cade calling my name.
But Mama did.
Suddenly, they both appeared yards in front of me, eyes thrown wide with emotion. Cade’s was filled with confusion, and Mama—her head jerked to the side as panic overtook her features. I shook my head, not understanding what the big deal was… and then I saw it.
Rusty, our feisty boarder dog with energy to burn (and a nasty habit of running free on our property) had gotten loose. He was currently bolting right for us.
I didn’t have time to think.
Oakley’s head perked up, her feet shifted, and she took off, headed in the wrong direction. Spooked horses weren’t anything new around here, but I was rusty. And my muscles didn’t cooperate.
I tried to check her, but my grip was all wrong. Oakley threw her head in the air, took the bit in her teeth, and charged. Straight toward a fence.
I attempted to control her with my knees, tried to steer her away from the rail. But my hips were weak and my legs couldn’t hold on. As a last-ditch effort, I sat back and deep within the saddle… but it was too late.
Unable to keep my balance, and with Oakley running scared, I fell. Hard.
Pain exploded everywhere, especially in my wrist, and my ears rang with Mama’s screams. Someone ran down and grabbed Oakley. Trevor appeared to corral Rusty. Cade dropped to his knees beside me, the pity in his eyes confirming what I already knew.
My body had failed me, in the worst possible way. I wasn’t strong.
And I never would be again.
WEDNESDAY, JUNE 4TH