Page 19 of Wild and Unruly
“That’s not cool though. I’m sorry.”
She shrugs and picks at the polish on her nails.
“Come on.” I nod behind me and reach for her hand.
“Come on, where?” she asks, looking rightfully skeptical.
I wander closer, grasping her hand as she sets hers in mine willingly. “We’re gonna go for a ride.”
Her expression flickers for a moment before she shakes her head. “Oh, I don’t know.”
“Come on, you’re already wearing your boots, and this will give you a mood boost.”
“Who says I need one?”
I pull her up, and she loses her footing for a moment, bumping into me, and I take the moment to wrap my arm around her waist, steadying her. I let my eyes trail over her face for a second before meeting her gaze. Her hand that landed on my shoulder squeezes slightly, and I smile at her. “I do.”
It takes Bonnie all of ten seconds before a smile starts to bloom across her face, and she’s reaching down to run her hand over the neck of Moonshine, a horse that Dani bought a few years ago as a lesson horse. I stole Milk, who is CT’s ranch horse and needed some exercise anyway.
“How’s it feeling?” I ask her, smiling at the glowing one she has spread across her mouth. She was stunning, and I doubt she even realized it.
We were riding at a walk side by side up through one of the pastures that opened up. It was a great field because it was nice and clear, and you could ride your horse through at full speed without having to stop for a good long while.
“Amazing. I can’t lie,” she admits, taking a deep breath of the fresh mountain air.
We walk for a few more minutes in companionable silence, and I just stay quiet to let her enjoy herself for a few minutes. I try to picture not riding a horse for five years, and I can’t imagine it.
“So, were you always a horse girl?” I ask, wanting to know more about this woman beside me.
“Well, yes and no.” She starts scratching Moonshine again. “I was a very girlie girl growing up. I did ballet and dressed in only dresses for years, loved bows in my hair and my nails done at all times. But then Mason…” She clears her throat and sighs. “My brother got into it, and my parents bought him a horse, and I fell in love with that horse.”
My mind goes to the article I read that said the horse in Mason’s accident died. “Was that…?”
“Yeah.” She swallows hard and looks away from me for a minute. “It was him.”
For a minute, she doesn’t speak, and I regret asking the question, only to bring up this sad memory for her.
“Anyway,” she starts again, and I let out a breath. “I started going with my brother to his lessons, and the trainer there was so nice. He was an older man who just gave kids lessons. As my brother got better, I begged my parents to let me ride too. Suddenly, we were at this barn three times a week, and my brother and I both started attending shows and winning.”
She shrugs. “I don’t know, I guess my dad saw it as some sort of fucked up retirement fund. That if we just kept winning and getting money, if we got better and better and kept advancing, we would win more money.
“Then we left that barn and went to another trainer, a way bigger facility with way more competition.”
Bonnie shakes her head and looks over at me. “I thought Iwas about to make a bunch of friends, you know? Like we could have this fun little horse girl club or whatever. But not only did my dad tell me that they were more competition and not to become friends, but they felt I was invading their territory and never played or hung out with me. They’d go on rides, their little group, and leave me behind. It kind of sucked.” Bonnie looks over at me. “Sorry, this was way more than you asked for.”
I feel awful for her that she had to deal with that or put up with it, but I shake my head. “No, keep going. What happened?”
A deep sigh and she continues, “Well, I decided I didn’t want to be their friend anyway and just kept practicing. I rode and showed until it was no longer fun. It was work. And my dad didn’t make it any easier, pushing both of us, putting us in extra training sessions, making us eat and work out in a specific way as if we were Olympic athletes. It was crazy. It took away this.” She points down at Moonshine. “Just the pure joy of riding.”
“Riding shouldn’t be about winning,” I say, gazing up at the mountains around us. “I don’t compete much, only small rodeos here and there, but my favorite part is the connection with the horses I work with. They trust me. It’s a good feeling.”
“Yeah.” I turn to see Bonnie looking at me, biting her lip. “Well, seems you’ve figured it out.”
I shake my head. “I don’t think so.”
Bonnie settles into her seat and shakes her head back at me. “Yeah, well, enough of all of this heavy talk.” She tilts her head at me as if assessing me. I’ll let her assess me as much as she wants. “How fast do you think you are?”
“What do you mean?—”
