Page 69 of Journey to Love

Anya's playful demeanor resurfaces as she responds, "I have loads of boots back home in New Jersey, in the fall storage bins." Her playful tone brings a grin to my face, and I'm reminded once again of her quick wit and charming personality.

I laugh, “okay let me see if Marissa may have an extra pair of riding boots for you” and I walk back into the house.

A few moments later, I hand Anya the riding boots that my mom had tucked away, relics of past memories and moments. It's one of those instances where I'm grateful for my mom's sentimentality, preserving items that find new purpose. Anya eagerly takes the boots and slips them on, to both our surprise, they fit her perfectly, as if they were meant for her all along.

Finally arriving at the stables, Anya's eyes light up as she stands before the majestic black horse we encountered the night before. "Can I ride him?" she asks, her excitement palpable. I can't help but smile at her enthusiasm, but I gently shake my head. "No, he's not ideal for beginners; he tends to have a mind of his own," I explain. Her disappointment flickers briefly across her face, but she quickly recovers, understanding my reasoning.

Leading her over to a more seasoned horse, one known for its gentle nature and patience with novice riders, I assure her that this horse will be perfect for her first riding experience.

I secure the horse, ensuring he remains calm as Anya approaches. Handing her a brush, I explain, "Now we need to brush him first, that way he gets to know you, it keeps the area where the saddle will be clean so he is comfortable and nothing is stuck there pushing into him, and besides, he loves being pampered." Demonstrating the proper technique, I watch as Anya quickly picks up the routine. Her soft voice and gentle touch as she talks to the horse are endearing, like watching a nurturing mother with her child.

After grooming the horse, I prepare him for the saddle. Once everything is in place, I help Anya onto the saddle, setting up the step stool for her. As she settles into the saddle, she looks remarkably comfortable, as though she's been riding horses her whole life. The smile on her face as she pets the horse fills me with so much joy. She looks up at me smiling from ear to ear and it is the most adorable sight to see.

After unlocking the lines holding the horse, I use the lead to guide him out to one of the paddocks. Taking it slow, I lead the horse in a gentle walk, letting Anya get used to the feeling of being in the saddle. She smiles and then asks, “Do you think I could do this without you leading?” I nod and detach the lead rope. Watching her take control, Anya starts walking the horse in circles, looking like she's having a blast.

“Hey, do you think I'm ready to go faster?” she eagerly asks. I chuckle at her enthusiasm. Normally, I’d hesitate, but with this horse, I nod. “Sure, we can give him a trot,” I agree, explaining how to cue the horse and maintain control with the reins. As the horse picks up speed, I shout out instructions on how to steady her bouncing and how to properly post on a trot, explaining how its most comfortable for the horse. Anya laughs with each bounce, and after a few minutes, she wants to return to a walk. Over the next hour or so, I help her transition between a slow walk and a trot, until she's ready to call it a day.

Exhausted but exhilarated, we lead the horse back to the stables. I take off the saddle, and then I hand Anya a brush, letting her pamper the horse. Throughout it all, she’s grinning from ear to ear. After putting the horse back in his stall, we head back to the house.

“Thanks for teaching me, I had such a blast, even though my butt and thighs are killing me,” Anya says with a chuckle.

Pulling her close, I offer, “I'll give you a massage if you want.” I wink, and she playfully pushes me. We both laugh as we walk inside the house.

Chapter Thirty-One

Anya

After spending the afternoon riding a horse in the summer heat, I'm utterly exhausted. But it was worth every moment! Feeling the powerful movement of the horse beneath me and learning to control him was absolutely exhilarating. I tell Jacob that I need to shower and take a nap. My body feels sore from the ride, so the heat from the shower would be a welcome relief. Jacob mentions that it's because my body isn’t used to horseback riding.

Once I finish my shower, I collapse into bed and sleep overtakes me effortlessly. When I wake up, it's already nighttime. I wonder how long I've been asleep as I make my way out of the room. The house is quiet, and I head to the kitchen where I find the table set with lit candles and plates arranged neatly. Jacob is at the stove, focused on cooking.

Quietly, I walk up behind him and wrap my arms around his back. Startled, he jolts, accidentally splattering sauce on my face. His eyes widen in panic as he hurriedly wipes my face with his sleeve. But I can't help but burst into laughter, and his expression shifts from concern to relief as he sees me giggling.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," I manage to say between laughs.

He leans down and kisses my head, “No worries, I just got worried you got hurt,” he says softly. I shake my head, “I’m okay,” I reply, smiling up at him, then lean forward to catch a glimpse of the food he's preparing. “That smells good,” I comment, then glance around. “Where is everyone?” I ask.

“They went out to eat, so I could make you dinner,” he replies.

I smirk. “Mmm, not only is he good-looking and great with horses, but he can cook too?” I tease. He gives me a knowing look. “Oh, there is so much more that I am good at,” he says, his voice dropping low, filled with desire.

I shoot him a sly smirk, my voice dripping with mischief. "Oh really?" I tease, but before I can say another word, he grabs me and pulls me in close. His breath tickles my ear as he whispers, "Just wait until I have you at my mercy. I'll make you see stars." The glint of desire in his eyes sends shivers down my spine.

He chuckles, putting a bit of space between us as he returns to the stove. “Ugh, you’re such a tease!” I playfully retort. He laughs and resumes cooking. “The food is almost ready,” he announces.

“I can’t believe you did all this for me,” I express, a sense of disbelief and awe washing over me. Jacob consistently shows me that he's unlike anyone I've ever known. It's not a complaint, just an adjustment to something so different from what I'm used to. It all feels surreal and unfamiliar.

He strides over, carrying the pot and setting it down on the table. "You've endured hardships and trauma no woman should have to bear," he begins, his voice filled with sincerity, "You're more than worthy of a small meal cooked by the man who adores you and longs for your happiness". I’m immediately overwhelmed; his words hit deep and fills my heart with joy. How did I get so lucky to have a man like this in my life, let alone love me?

We both sit down and eat, Jacob sharing stories from his childhood about growing up surrounded by animals. He recounts a particular incident when he was playing in a field, banging a bucket as if he were in a battle. Suddenly, a horse mistook the sound for a feeding call and charged towards him, accidentally trampling him. Miraculously, he emerged without a scratch. My eyes widen at the tale. "Oh my god! How did your mom react?" I ask in disbelief. "At first, she was furious with the horse," Jacob explains, "but then she scolded me for playing in the horse paddock with a food bucket. It wasn’t the horse's fault, he was just responding to instinct".

"How old were you at the time?" I ask. Jacob pauses, then replies, "I think I was maybe 9 or 10." I shake my head, chuckling. "If you want to talk about stupid decisions we made as kids," I begin, "I was maybe 8 or 9, riding our bikes with my mom at the boardwalk. It was the first time I was on a two-wheeler, and there was this big hill." Jacob smiles knowingly, sensing where the story is headed. "Feeling confident and adventurous, I saw the hill and decided to go for it," I continue. "But the moment I started speeding down, I regretted it. At the end of the hill was a busy main road, and I was going so fast that I was afraid to hit the brakes, fearing I'd be thrown off. Plus, I wasn't wearing a helmet." I laugh as I recount the memory. "Miraculously, I veered across the road toward a parking lot and finally stopped, my whole body shaking." Jacob laughs. "Oh, I bet your mom wasn’t too happy with you then," he remarks. I join in his laughter. "Oh, hell no! She was super pissed and started yelling. Then she pinched me so hard I bruised," I explain. "But she didn’t mean it; she was just scared, and her emotions got the best of her".

We continue swapping stories throughout dinner, then Jacob takes our plates, washes them, and grabs a blanket. He takes my hand, and we walk outside. Then he leans in, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Do you trust me?" he asks. Nervously, I smile and reply, "Yes." Suddenly, he blindfolds me. "Wait, what are you doing?" I ask, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement. "It's a surprise," he says with a grin.

"Where are we going?" I ask curiously as we walk. He just smiles and pulls me closer, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. "You'll see," he replies. After a few minutes, we stop. "Okay, keep your eyes closed," he says. I nod, and he removes the blindfold. "Okay, open them," he says.

When I open my eyes, I'm faced with an open field and a clear night sky, with stars that completely surround us. As I stand there, enveloped in the vastness of the open field and the twinkling expanse of the night sky, a profound sense of wonder washes over me, like waves lapping at the shores of my consciousness. The stars above seem to pulse with a silent energy, each one a beacon of light in the darkness, inviting me to lose myself in their celestial dance. I feel a sense of awe and reverence, as if I am witnessing something sacred and ancient, something that transcends the boundaries of time and space.

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