Page 16 of Stick Around,
“He can smell fear,” I whispered, eyeing the giant beast.
Kellan’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s sharks. And even then, it’s blood, not fear.”
“Are you sure? Because he’s looking at me like I’m a snack.”
Tater Tot blinked slowly, his expression remarkably uninterested for something the size of a minivan. He lowered his head and let out a long, wheezing sigh that ended in a snort.
“He’s not going to hurt you.” Kellan unlatched the gate and beckoned me inside. When I hesitated, he added, “Trust me, Quinn. Would I put you on a dangerous animal your first time?”
“I don’t know your teaching ethics! For all I know, this is some kind of ‘sink or swim’ approach.”
Kellan grinned, reaching out his hand. “Come on. One step at a time.”
I took a deep breath and tentatively placed my hand in his. His palm was warm and calloused, fingers closing around mine with gentle pressure. The simple touch sent an electric current up my arm.
Great. Now I was dealing with irrational horse fear and inconvenient attraction.
Kellan guided me inside the ring, my boots dragging like I was walking to my execution. Tater Tot swished his tail, completely unbothered by my dramatic entrance.
“We’re going to just stand here for a minute.” Kellan didn’t release my hand. “Feel how calm the energy is?”
“The only energy I’m feeling is my fight-or-flight response,” I muttered.
“Look at him, Quinn.” Kellan’s voice was soft but insistent. “Really look. His eyes aren’t rolling. His ears aren’t pinned back. He’s just... vibing.”
I couldn’t help the snort that escaped. “Horses don’t vibe.”
“Tater Tot does. He’s the Zen master of this ranch.”
As if on cue, the horse let out an enormous fart that echoed through the arena, followed by what looked like a goofy horse grin.
“Did he just—” I clapped a hand over my mouth, torn between horror and amusement.
“Oh, yeah.” Kellan nodded solemnly, though a smile threatened to break through his composure. “He’s notorious for it. We call them his ‘tater toots.’”
“Wow. Real professional operation you’ve got here.”
“Here.” He took my hand again. “Hold your palm flat, like this.” He demonstrated, then guided my hand toward Tater Tot’s enormous nose.
The horse’s whiskers tickled my skin as he sniffed delicately, his breath warm against my palm. I couldn’t help the giggle that slipped out.
“See? Not so scary.” Kellan moved my hand to the horse’s neck, his fingers still wrapped around mine in a way that made me forget about horse-related terror for approximately two point three seconds. “Pet him. He loves it.”
I let my palm rest against Tater Tot’s velvety coat. My hand looked comically small against the expanse of his massive neck. I gave a tentative stroke, and the giant beast leaned into the touch like an oversized puppy.
“Huh,” I whispered, mesmerized by the rhythmic brushing of my hand against his coat. “He’s soft. I thought he’d feel like a couch or something.”
As I continued petting him, a weird calm settled over me. All that irrational fear was being replaced by something approaching wonder, though I wasn’t about to admit that to Kellan just yet.
“Ready to saddle him?” Kellan patted Tater Tot’s broad back, and the giant horse made a contented little nickering sound that seemed impossibly small coming from such a massive animal.
“Yes and no.” I continued running my hand along Tater Tot’s neck, secretly delighted at how he leaned into my touch. “My brain needs processing time.”
Kellan’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he gave me that patient smile, the one that made me feel simultaneously soothed and slightly annoyed that he found my fear amusing. “You can process while I show you how to saddle him, and if you decide today isn’t the day, then no worries.”
He gently took the lead rope and guided Tater Tot across the arena to where a worn leather saddle waited on a rail. The horse plodded along with a slow, rolling gait. For something so enormous, he moved with surprising gentleness, occasionally glancing back as if checking whether I was following. I was, but with the cautious steps of someone following an elephant they’re still not entirely convinced won’t suddenly decide to sit on them.
As Kellan began to explain the saddling process, I tried to focus as he demonstrated each step: blanket first, then saddle, checking for wrinkles, tightening the girth. But I was distracted by the way his forearms flexed with each movement.
