Page 29 of The Story We Wrote

From a young age, I knew that working in the family business was where I was meant to be. The work was hard, but it felt good at the end of the day. I wanted to be a part of something generations of family worked hard to create. I have no doubt that if I had sat my parents down and told them I wanted to go to college, they would’ve been the first two people to step up and help me find what I needed to make it happen. Hell, with all the times I’d fucked up as a kid, I didn’t know how they hadn’t packed up my shit and sent me away. I caused trouble everywhere I went. I was suspended from school more times than I’d like to admit. I slept around, drank, and was in the back of a cop car way too often. All harmless fun of a stupid teenage boy with his group of stupid friends. Never once, though, did my family turn their backs on me. I’m the man I am today because of the people who raised me. They gave me space to sort out my shit and learn from my mistakes.

I was in the process of tacking up one of our horses, Marty, when I heard rustling coming from behind me. We had a total of six horses on the ranch. They tended to be our main transportation when getting across the pastures. When I made sure the stirrups were adjusted, I turned to find Aspen coming up to the barn, a brown paper bag in her hand. When she was close enough, she held the bag in the air and sent me a beaming smile. “I got your request, Cowboy,” she said, waving the bag. Aspen handed it to me, and I couldn’t help but open it. The sweet aroma of her filled my nose and it felt like home.

“My mouth is watering,” I said, closing the bag and placing it in the saddle bag of my horse.

“Are we doing what I think we are?” Aspen asked, eying me skeptically. I probably should’ve asked if she had ever ridden a horse before; I was banking on the answer being no.

“If you’re thinking we’re going horseback riding, then yes,” I said, holding my hand out for her to take. Aspen didn’t seem to mind the touch because, without hesitation, she put her hand in mine. I felt a jolt of electricity like I touched an active outlet. I looked up at her to see if she felt it too. Her face was the definition of calm and collected; I must’ve been imagining whatever just happened.

I guided her towards the barn. Inside, Louise was ready and tacked up to ride. I paired Aspen with Louise because of how gentle she was. She’s been on the farm for a while and has taught a lot of people to ride.

“I’ve never been horseback riding before,” Aspen mumbles, almost at a whisper.

“This is Louise. Here, put your hand out.” We approached in front but at an angle, making sure to avoid Louise’s blind spot. When we got closer, she whinnied, and Aspen recoiled her hand. “It’s okay,” I whispered. “Just keep your hand outstretched; she’ll put her nose to it.”

On cue, Louise put her nose up against Aspen’s hand, telling her it was alright. Aspen smiled and slightly turned her hand so that Louise could touch the back side. “She’s a gentle girl,” I said. “I thought we could do a little practice here, and I could walk you up to my favorite overlook for the sunset.”

“That would be lovely,” Aspen said, now petting Louise’s nose.

Sliding the stool closer, I said, “Step up and put your foot in the stirrups. Make sure to swing your back leg over.” I tapped the foot she needed to put in the stirrup first. Aspen got in position and swung her leg over. I took my hat off and placed it to cover her in case her dress rode up. I placed the hat back onmy head when I knew she was situated. “You’re a natural,” I said, grabbing the reins.

“I feel so tall up here!” she exclaimed. She looked beautiful up there too.

Guiding Louise from the barn, Aspen bent over slightly to pet her mane, running her hand down her neck. When we emerged from the barn, the dusk sun hit our skin. First, I took the girls in a circle, talking Aspen through the movements, how to control a horse, and the do’s and don’ts when riding. She listened intently, soaking up everything I told her. “How’s it feeling?” I asked.

“Fun!” She said back in a cheerful tone, “I think I’m getting the basic movements down. She’s sweet.” Louise huffed, knowing that Aspen must be talking about her.

“Hold these for a second,” I said, handing Aspen the reins and rope. She took them, a bit unsure. I jogged over to Marty and stepped into the stirrups, throwing myself over to land on his back. I adjust my hat, setting it down tighter on my head. I used the reins to guide myself closer to Aspen and held out my hand. “I can take those back. Not too scary, huh?” I teased as she handed me the guiding rope.

“How long have you been riding?” She asked, her body relaxing more as we walked towards a break in the trees. She looked stunning in her ankle boots, which matched the black and red floral dress that was currently scrunched around her upper thighs, giving me a peek at her bare skin.

I hadn’t seen much of Aspen out of a dress. I loved her usual style; the way the dresses she chose flowed against her curves. But, I would be lying if I said the little bit of skin she was showing right now didn’t do something to me. I shook my head, trying to get rid of the thought. Friends, Boone. She was yourfriend.

When I attempted to distract my mind from the thought of her exposed skin, I was consumed by the way her body went up and down, moving in sync with motions. It was making me feral.Now, the skin was no longer a problem. Instead, I was thinking about what she would look like riding me instead.Baseball. Golf. Ice cream.I tried to think of anything that would stop the hard on I could feel forming between my legs. I moved slightly, readjusting myself. She asked me something, didn’t she?

“How long have I been riding?’ I asked again, making sure that was her question. When she nods, I let out a sigh of relief. “All my life,” I answered. “I’ve been riding since I was able to hold my own on the back of a horse.”

Ranching and riding had been part of my family for generations. It was a must to be called a Cassidy. If you couldn’t ride, you might as well change your last name.

“Damn,” she said, looking up towards the sky, taking in the scenery. “That’s impressive. Who taught you?”

“My dad. It’s in our blood. My grandpa taught him. His dad before him,” I replied.

“That’s really sweet. Your family sounds special.” I could hear the sadness in her voice, not that she would admit it.

“It’s okay to want more from your family,” I said, probably overstepping my boundaries. “Sometimes, growing up, I wished my parents had stepped in and guided me away from making a bad decision. They followed a very hands-off approach to parenting. They let me make my choices and supported them regardless of what they knew the outcome would be.” I took a pause, I think this was the first time I’d voiced this out loud. “I would get angry as a kid. I often wondered if I kept fucking up just to get them to be more involved. But now that I’m an adult, I think it made me who I am today. I’m a person who learns through doing and knows that whatever the outcome, I can fix it.”

Aspen didn’t respond right away. We sat in silence for a few beats before I heard her sigh. “I just sometimes wish they were less judgmental. I want to be able to feel like I can tell themthings. Instead, I tend just to accommodate them. I want to be able to be who I am and express my desires without feeling like I won’t be accepted.” She paused and started again. “ I think that also has impacted me as an adult. I never took risks and never made a bad choice that got me in trouble, because my parents did it all for me. I want to live. I’m resentful and want to feel free. These past few weeks, I have felt that. I think I owe that to you.”

The fact she was attributing that discovery to me made me want to reassure her that it was all her who made the choices completely on her own. “I feel like I can be myself around you. I feel like I can tell you things or do things and you wouldn’t judge me,” she added.

“It isn’t my place to judge anybody,” I replied.

“That’s a beautiful thing,” she said in return, smiling.

“Aspen, you owe me nothing. It’s you who decided to let the walls down and have some fun. I just happened to be there with you,” I confessed.

I’d shared more with Aspen in the last ten minutes than I’d shared with anyone else in my life. My frustrations I had as a kid were shoved so deep into my mental space that I never thought I’d recover or voice them. It felt good letting someone else in.

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