Page 121 of Royally Drawn

I love you. I know it more than ever. Please come when you can and help. I ride at 2 PM, but I’d welcome you anytime. I’m going to win, and I want to be there to celebrate it with you.

-I

Tears welled. She’d kept it all this time. If there were any doubts before, there were none now. I was off to the stables, knowing my life was back in one piece. The exciting bit of my life being a human test dummy was over. I knew there were growing pains to come. I’d miss that excitement. I also craved being there for Ingrid as she hit her milestones. My girlfriend was exceptional, brave, and strong. I didn’t want to miss any more of this wild life with her. Aunt Natalie was right; I’d have always regretted it if I hadn’t taken a chance now. I cashed in my horse show boyfriend chips and buckled up, knowing she’d always be mine.

My future wasn’t in a cockpit. It was waking up with Ingrid every morning, watching her vault over fences taller than herself, and holding a horse in a stable aisle. It was cooking dinner with her—jumping in after she burned something. Everything I needed now was possible. I closed one chapter and began another.

Rolling into the stables, I found Ingrid with her chestnut mare, painting hooves.

“I’ve got this,” I said.

Ingrid turned, surprised. “Oh, you made it.”

I hugged and kissed her, trying to avoid the hoof black in her hand. “I wouldn’t miss your win for anything in the world.”

“Atta boy,” Cici laughed. “Put the man to work. She’s going to kill it, Keir.”

“I know,” I said. “She’s going to do so beautifully. I’m so fucking proud of her.”

Ingrid kissed me back, looking tearful. “I am so glad you’re here. Uh… hoof black. Thanks a million. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” I said. The words were perfect.

This was where I needed to be.

Epilogue

INGRID

It all came down to the final day at the European Championships. If I managed to ride clear, I would likely finish in pole position for the Olympics. Even a single penalty would keep me home. Kraken and I prepared for the ride of our lives. Well, I did. Kraken was just the same good boy he ever was.

“You’re going to kick their asses,” Keir said, shining my boots as we waited by the gate. “Don’t think about them, though. Think about you.”

“Ride for you,” Cici said. “Ride for your horse making these games again. He deserves to go once more, right? And you deserve to go for yourself—for the first time.”

I patted Kraken, the Olympic vet. He flicked his ears back, waiting and listening.

“You’re going to be fine,” Betty promised.

“Better than fine,” Keir added.

“Scandinavian fine, which is excellent,” Cici clarified.

I snickered and bent down to give Keir an awkward kiss.

“You’re up,” Cici said.

“Kick ass and take names!” Keir called after me.

I intended to. I circled and trotted, winding Kraken up. He didn’t need much encouragement. Even at his age, he could still get up and go with the best of them. I visualised the round. I rode like it was my last ride—ride for me. We took off and headed for the first fence. I basked in the roundness of Kraken’s impressive jump and how smooth he landed.

We had a hair-raising moment where I knew we knocked a pole, if only by the gasp from the crowd—then clapping. It held. I let Kraken out, headed for the next fence. We had this long combination, and I trusted him to know the line better than I did. All the frustrating gymnastics practice in the world—enough to make the laziest hunter pony look snappy—would either pay off or not.

I nearly closed my eyes as we landed from the final fence. Clear. The final wall lay ahead. It was a tricky gallop across the arena to get there—an attractive design that had thrown off at least four riders in their approach. Again, I trusted my horse to know best. I got off his mouth, glad to be a passenger and let him enjoy his job.

“You got this, baby!” Keir shouted.

“Go, go, go!” Cici and Betty cried out.

---