Page 95 of High Intensity

“Keep your hands low, and if you want, you can grab on to the saddle horn.”

I bite off a smile when I see the intense concentration on Hayley’s face.

Carmi—Sully and Pippa’s thirteen-year-old—was kind enough to let Hayley use her horse, Tinker Bell. She’s a pretty Haflinger, a smaller breed with beautiful fawn hide and flax-colored mane and tail, and Hayley was head over heels the moment she laid eyes on her.

It turns out the girl isn’t a total newbie, she mentioned she’s ridden ponies before but never without someone leading alongside. Tinker Bell is a bit bigger than a pony, and I’m not about to run alongside. Not when Hayley insisted she could do it on her own. It’s the best way to learn.

I don’t need to look behind me to know Jillian is watching from the porch and probably wringing her hands again. Even though she can ride herself, she’s not quite as comfortablearound horses as she is around dogs, but to her credit, she hasn’t interfered and seems to trust I know what I’m doing.

Still, she was out here watching from the porch the first time Hayley got on Tinker Bell a couple of days ago, and I have a feeling it’ll be a while before Jillian feels comfortable enough to take her eyes off the girl. She is still in full protection mode.

“Can we go for a trail ride?” Hayley asks, a bright blush staining her cheeks and her eyes sparkling.

I chuckle at her enthusiasm.

“Maybe when the snow melts,” I suggest. “The trails can be a bit treacherous in the winter.”

That also gives her a chance to get some more practice in. I’d like to see her a bit more at home on horseback before taking her out of the safety of the corral. The chances of the horse getting spooked in here are slim, and even if she is tossed or falls, I’ll be right here to pick up the pieces, so to speak.

“Can I go faster?” the little daredevil asks.

“Up to you. Remember what I told you? Lean forward in the saddle a little, press your knees into her sides, and click your tongue,” I remind her. “And if you want her to slow down, gently tighten up on the reins and saywhoa.”

From the corner of my eye, I see Jackson walking up, and I move to join him at the fence, making sure I keep Hayley in my sights.

“She seems to be getting the hang of it,” he observes.

I grunt in agreement, before adding, “She certainly doesn’t seem to have any fear.”

I watch as she manages to urge Tinker Bell into a gentle canter, still bouncing around the saddle too much.

“Remember to relax your butt in the seat,” I call out to her.

With enough practice, all of these things will become second nature, and she won’t even have to think about them.

“Are you by chance going to be around tonight?” Jackson asks.

A fair question, since I’ve slept in my own bed only once or twice in the past couple of weeks.

“I can be. What do you need?”

“Bought a new bed I need to pick up in town tonight. It’s a heavy son of a bitch so I can’t do it by myself.”

“New bed? Got big plans I don’t know about?” I tease him.

“Yeah, right,” he scoffs. “No, I got one of those adjustable beds. It’s supposed to be better for my back.”

Over the past months, Jackson has slowly started opening up. Before he would blow off any questions about his physical condition, even though at times it was clear he was struggling. Then when we were making a delivery in Polson last week, and I caught him wince lowering the gate on the trailer, he mentioned his back was bothering him. Apparently, it’s not uncommon for leg amputees to develop back problems.

It’s the first time Jackson’s ever admitted to any pain to my knowledge.

“Yeah, no problem. I’ll help.”

“You sure?”

“Of course. What time?”

“Six thirty okay?”

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