Page 13 of Tough Love

“Yeah, I guess so. The place they set me up in is amazing. The clinic is small but busy. Had a call out first thing yesterday to a ranch.”

“Wow! First day and on call out already. Go Adds.”

I chuckle at her enthusiasm. My parents have always had my back, no matter what. And I hesitate with my next words. “I guess. They want me to go on this roundup. And I would have to ride. I mean, I have to ride along.”

The phone is silent.

“Would that be a bad thing, hon?”

“Mom,” I say, the word a pull between a plea and whisper.

“It’s been over eight years, Addy. And the accident was not your fault. Riding was such a wonderful part of your life. If youhave a chance to get it back with these ranch people, you should at least try.”

“Maybe.”

“Did they offer to help you ride again, or is it part of the job?”

“Um, both?”

“Oh?”

“The man that owns the ranch, Harry Rawlins, he must have some sway around here. He wants their vet along on the roundup. And since that’s me now, he said his son can help me get back on a horse.”

“His son?”

Her voice has risen an octave, and I huff a laugh.

“Yes, Hudson. Apparently, he has a way with horses,” I say, using my most ridiculous voice. She bursts out laughing.

“As long as he doesn’t have a way with their riders,” she teases.

“Oh god, Mom, seriously, no. He is like the grumpiest guy I have ever met. Utterly icy. I wouldn’t be surprised if he doesn’t even show up to our first lesson.”

“When is it?”

“Saturday. Ugh, should I not go?”

“Absolutely not! You want this job, and I wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, my girl. Pun intended, sweetheart.” She laughs.

I groan and she cracks up.

Mom and her lame jokes. But she has a point—I want this job. It’s part of my plan. So, I guess getting back on the horse with Hudson’s help is also now part of the plan.

“Love you, Mama. Kiss Dad for me, will you?”

“You know I will. And, Adds?”

“Yeah?”

“I am so excited for you. You got this, my love.”

“Thanks, Mama.”

She hangs up and I slide down the kitchen cupboard and sit on the floor. I study the white-paneled drawers in the center island. So, I’m doing this. I’m getting back on the horse...

And if I am honest with myself... I’m scared shitless.

The ranch is quiet when I pull into the driveway of the homestead early Saturday morning. I kill the engine and step out. I brought riding boots and a better button-down shirt. I haven’t ridden in anything but jodhpurs and top boots my entire life. It’s odd to be about to ride and not dressed like an equestrian. But I am not about to wear tight-fitting pants around the grumpy cowboy.

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