Page 11 of Reining Her In

C H A P T E R F I V E

Constance

“I’m fine.” My heart is racing and my anxiety is sky high because I just want to be out of this hospital room. I also can’t seem to stop thinking about Reed Sawyer’s face hovering over mine after the accident. I’d hoped he would have come to see me, but it’s just been my mom here with me for the most part.

I remember Reed’s eyes; he looked more frightened than I’d felt. I can still hear his voice shouting desperately for the EMTs and brushing the hair from my face, the way his eyes lit on fire when his hand grazed over the spot on my head that is now closed up with twenty-two staples.

“Darling, please. One more day won’t kill you.” My mother’s peace maker voice only ratchets up my anxiety a few more notches. My father is at work, of course.

I couldn’t tell from my dad’s reaction yesterday if he was more irritated that I’d fallen or that I’d not won. He barely spoke to me in the time he was here yesterday. Either way, he’s back at work now because that is his first priority.

Besides a nasty gash and bump on my head, I feel pretty good considering what could have happened. I’m a little sore, and my head feels foggy and achy, but my mom had the hospital run every test possible and they say I’m going to be fine.

My dad sits on the board of directors at this hospital, so Mom insisted I be put into ICU for the night when I arrived, even though it wasn’t medically necessary. If I were some Jane Doe off the street, they’d have stapled me up, snapped a quick x-ray and sent me home.

But I’m me. So I’m still here.

There is one thing though. Twice I’ve had these tremors start in my hand; then they go up my arm and before I know it, my right side and my head are shaking like mad and I can’t stop it. It only lasts about a minute, and both times no one was in the room with me, thank God. Just an adrenaline rush and stress, I’m sure. It is definitely weird though, and if it keeps happening even I know I have to have it checked out, but right now I just want to go home and forget the entire incident.

To be honest, I’m scared to death of getting back up on a horse, but it’s been drilled into me from my fifth birthday, when I took my first tumble off Murphy my Shetland Pony: You fall, you get right back on, no questions, no hesitation.

No fear.

You overcome. You overachieve. You conquer.

Yes, Dad, you don’t need you in my head thank you very much.

This need I have to please him sucks. Couple that with the fact that in his eyes I’m never quite good enough, sucks even more.

“I’m leaving, whether or not you come with me,” I snap at my mother. I’m not usually so surly with her, but I hate it here. “Just hire someone to come and hover around me if it makes you feel better. A private nurse like you did for Grandma. But I’m not staying here.”

I hear the bratty tone in my voice and I can’t stop it. I’m legally an adult, but I think part of my petulance comes from the fact that I am still so far under their thumb.

They pay for everything. My car, my training, my gear, my food, my horses.

My horses. Ruby. Grief grips at my throat.

From what I’m told, Ruby will be okay, but my father didn’t hesitate to tell me I’ll never ride her again. They bought her from Travis even before I started training with him. He’s part trainer, part high end used horse salesman, and even though they paid more for her than some islands are worth, but my father put his foot down.

I pray they don’t get rid of her without me knowing. I wouldn’t put it past him. I’ll keep her forever, even if I don’t ever ride her again. I love her and she loves me. I know how some people treat their horses in this sport. Like a piece of equipment. They will do whatever they need to do to get their horse to perform, whether or not it is in the horse’s best interest.

Win at all costs, right?

I’m not sure if my dad doesn’t want me to ride her because he thinks I’ll get hurt again or I’ll embarrass him. For a moment I hate myself for how I still obey my father without question. Like I’m still a child.

I choke back a groan as my mother continues to wring her hands. I’m just happy Ruby’s going to recover.

“Travis called,” she adds with forced enthusiasm. “He said he’ll see you in a couple weeks. He’s leaving for two shows he has to go to with the other riders, and he’s worried about the liability of your riding at the barn until he’s back and he can supervise.” Mom is flitting around the room again, adjusting one of the ten or so enormous floral arrangements in her bright yellow and white capris with matching polo and cardigan. Her hair is a perfect blond helmet secured with enough Aqua Net that it would take a missile strike to make a dent. “You took a bad fall, honey, don’t take it personally. Travis is just looking out for you.”

Yes, he cares so much he didn’t even bother to come by and see me. Not that I wanted him to.

That scary thought dances through my head.

I’m not sure I want to ride again.

The thought has my stomach tight and maybe I’m just not ready after all. My confidence is shot and vet school seems an attractive option right now.

Before I figure out how to reply to her, a soft knock on the door draws our eyes. I stumble forward and throw myself back into the bed because I’m clothed only in this stupid hospital gown with my rear end hanging out. Mom had a suitcase of my clothes delivered when they knew I was going to be okay and my room was moved, but I haven’t had a chance to change yet.

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