Page 20 of Roughing It

Miguel grins. “She really likes you. Maddy is going to shit.”

I have no idea who Maddy is or why she’d shit over a horse liking me. Maybe she’s the owner and Clover belongs to her. “I hope that’s a good thing,” I quip.

He grins at me. “The best thing.”

He gives me a funny-looking once-over, and I wish I could read his expression, but it’s gone before I can really study him. He offers me a hand after that, and the next thing I know, I’ve got my foot in the stirrup, and I’m swinging my leg over the horse’s back.

Clover is a lot more terrifying from this high up. I think the saddle prevents me from squeezing her too hard, but I feel like I’m about to topple off at any second, and I ignore the little scream lodged in my chest as Miguel slowly begins to walk us up and down the outside of the paddock. It takes at least ten minutes before I’m really comfortable with him letting go, and I can see Flor watching with trepidation, Sage smiling, and Monty looking bored as he taps away on his phone.

Miguel finally announces that we’re ready to ride out, and my anxiety starts to pick up, but Clover stays entirely calm as Miguel mounts the black horse and waits for everyone else to follow suit. Sage happened to get Sandy Shores, who looks more interested in finding some grass to chew on, and Flor and Monty look at home on the spotty white ones that seem a little bit more spry.

I feel a little jealous at how easy it seems to be for them, and maybe a little envious that they grew up in a world where they got to do all this whenever they wanted. Maybe my life would have been different—my anxiety less pronounced out here in the middle of the woods—if I’d had the same opportunities.

I relax as we hit the trail though, and I appreciate that Miguel manages to keep me up along with him, leaving Monty at the very back. The path is too narrow for more than two horses to walk side by side, and Flor is in her own little romantic world with Sage after a few minutes of trotting along.

I do have to admit it’s beautiful. The pines are so tall there’s hardly any sun breaking through, and although I can tell my ass really is going to be sore, the fresh air is doing wonders for my mood.

“You’re already starting to love it, aren’t you, mija,” he teases.

I flush a little and look away from him. “It’s fine. Whatever.”

He laughs, mimicking my city accent. “Whateverrrr. Tell me the truth.”

I sigh and grin at him. “Okay, yeah. I can see the appeal. I’m not sure I could live like this all the time, but I wouldn’t mind coming back.” It’s strange because the words I meant so profoundly earlier that day suddenly feel like they might not be the entire truth. I wouldn’t say the grass is greener, but if I could actually afford to leave the city and live somewhere like this, I can’t say I would hate it.

“I can see it in your face. There’s always a difference with city folk who see it like an escape and the ones who see it as a possibility.” He gives his horse’s neck a little pat, and both animals pick up the pace. It startles me, and he chuckles.

“Which one were you?” I manage to ask once I regain my bearings.

He shrugs. “Both, I think, at different stages in my life. I think my husband is more trapped in between, but he doesn’t hate it, and that’s the important part.” He pauses and grins. “You’ll never catch him out here like this with me though. The only time he ever agreed to get on a horse was for wedding photos, and that was when we were on the beach.”

And hell, okay, a horseback ride on the beach sounds amazing. “Must have been a dream.”

“Every day,” he says with a wink, and I feel that little surge of envy again because I’m not sure that look will ever find its way onto my face.

We head a bit farther on the trail, and I’m just starting to get comfortable when there’s a sudden and loud snapping sound. Before I can turn, one of the horses behind us gives a sharp whinny, and then there’s a scream and athump. I immediately know it’s Flor, and I feel trapped on the fucking animal who’s now agitated and stamping her hoofs on the ground.

Miguel is already out of his saddle and steadying Clover before rushing over, and I manage to turn the horse enough that I can see Flor lying on the ground. It’s hard to tell how injured she is, but it’s obvious she was thrown.

She’s conscious, which is the only reason I can still breathe, and Sage is kneeling next to her. Beyond him is Monty, and he looks torn between confusion and vague curiosity, but he makes no move to dismount.

“I need to get a stretcher,” Miguel is saying. My heart starts pounding, and I want to figure out how to get off the horse, but before I can, Miguel meets my gaze and holds up a hand. “Mija, stay where you are, okay? She’s fine. No head injury, but there’s definitely a break.”

At that, Flor finally groans, her face ash white, and her voice is thready when she speaks. “My wrist hurts.”

I can see how her arm is cradled to her chest, and it doesn’t look right. I don’t stare too hard. I don’t think my stomach can take it. “What do you want me to do?”

Miguel looks conflicted, then turns his gaze on Monty. “Can you please ride with Eden to the lodge and tell the front desk we need a stretcher on Trail A?”

Monty, to his credit, immediately nods and beckons me over. I try the little trick Miguel taught me, urging Clover around and then forward, and she quickly begins a swift pace. I don’t even think about my inexperience or the fact that I’m riding next to a total douchebag.

All I can think about is Flor lying there on the ground with a broken limb.

Fuck.

“Let me help you dismount,” Monty says, and I realize we’re back at the stables. I’m not even sure how much time has passed, but it feels like no time at all and too much all mixed together. I don’t hesitate as I take his hand, and I slide to the ground just before he leads the horses back through the fence and closes it with a loud creak.

It’s a miracle my legs are steady at all, but I manage to stay upright as we rush toward the lobby doors.

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