Page 45 of Saving Grace
“I want to ride I…I haven’t been on since my dad died. Guess I’m just getting stuck in old feelings,” I say, realizing thoughts of my dad are exactly what has me on edge.
“Wanna talk about it?” he asks as he goes back to readying the horses for us.
I study his nimble fingers as they manipulate the leather straps and buckles on the bridle, working off muscle memory. He doesn’t even have to glance under the gelding’s head. My treacherous thoughts can’t help but slip to other ways those fingers could—
Drew’s rumbling laugh interrupts my imagination. “Penny for whatever thought just went through your head, sunshine? It seems interesting from here.”
I huff an irritated breath as I realize his eyes are firmly on me, a knowing glint in them. Yep, even my thoughts aren’t safe from this man. And, apparently, I’m still a lovesick teenager with wild fantasies about the cowboy down the road.
Clearing my throat, I focus on the two horses in the crossties, effectively shifting our focus back to appropriate—safe—topics. “So, who are the two lucky lads who get to tote us today?”
Drew pats the neck of the bay colt closest to him. “This little stud is Loki, and I pray he doesn’t decide to live up to his name today. The little red guy is just called Red. He’s actually Declan’s, but he doesn’t ride this one. Says he’s too mellow so he just spoils him with too many peppermints instead.”
I quirk an eyebrow at him. “He does? Or you do,” I ask, nodding to the peppermint wrapper sticking out of his pocket.
“Definitely him,” he says, stuffing the paper deeper. He tightens the girth on Red one more time before unhooking both horses and leading them toward the trail head. “You ready?”
“Yep. Just like riding a bike, right?”
***
Can confirm: horseback riding isnotjust like riding a bike. Sure, we’ve kept this little adventure to a walk—well, I have; Drew’s little colt has pranced, jigged, and moonwalked down the path—but my thighs and tailbone are feeling every hoofbeat by the time we circle around the arena. We’ve mostly ridden in steady silence or Drew’s guidance on how to maneuver Red down the trickier parts of the trail. His question from earlier still lingers, though, and I finally find the courage to answer it.
“You asked earlier if I wanted to talk about it…about Dad.”
Drew looks over his shoulder at me, his hands and seat steady even as Loki goes on another sideways shuffle. “You guys just don’t mention him much.”
I shrug, suddenly finding interest in the tooling on the saddle horn. “He had that big black mare, the one with the blaze on her face and two white stockings.”
“Delilah,” he says softly, his voice carrying in the afternoon quiet.
“Yeah. He’d pony her off whatever gelding he had at the time, and I’d bounce around on her, all grins and giggles. That mare even let me use her neck as a slide. I begged my mother to let me keep her, but she laughed. Thought it was ridiculous to keep a thousand-pound animal around when she could sell it to fund her habits.”
Red’s ears flick side to side as his body tenses underneath me, and I realize my legs are gripping his sides with the rise in my own anxiety.
Breathing deep and exhaling through my mouth, I force my muscles to relax while scratching the sweet gelding’s neck with my rein hand. “Sorry, bud,” I whisper.
“She’s living her best life as a retired broodmare in Kentucky.”
My eyes snap up to Drew. “What? But she was sold to some backyard cowboy.”
“Who my dad then threatened before paying double for her. He sent her to a friend’s breeding farm just north of Lexington to keep your mom from knowing. They fell in love with her, bred her twice. Now, she’s a glorified pasture pet that the grandkids ride bareback around the yard.”
I’m not ready for the emotion that takes hold of me, the tears of gratitude that fill my eyes. “But…why?”
“Your dad was one of the good ones, Leila. Anyone with half a brain cell could see how much he loved you, your brother, and that horse. So, making sure all three of you were safe was the only thing that mattered,” he says softly.
As I blink away the moisture, I realize we’ve both come to a stop at a small opening that overlooks the little town where a happy-go-lucky, horse-loving girl thrived. The town my dad loved more than anywhere else. Long-forgotten words he used to say fill my thoughts as I watch the quiet streets at the bottom of the hill.
This place’ll be your saving grace, honey bee. Just you wait.
The hardest part of riding is the ground. Just like life. Live it up, Gracie girl.
I’ve long since given up on stopping the tears that roll down both of my cheeks, not bothering to wipe them. Without another thought, I slip my reins into the other hand and reach for Drew’s.He takes my hand in his without question, without looking at me. As I glance at his face, I realize his eyes are misty as well.
“Both our dads always knew, didn’t they? That we’d end up here.”
Drew chuckles. “I doubt they knew we’d end up with a daughter before we got married.”
