Page 31 of Tough Love

I saddle him, taking in the words she uses. The tone of her voice. There’s no fear. A little sadness, but no fear. When the girth is done up, I step back and give her a nod. She leads Sergeant toward the round yard. And now I see it, her stiff shoulders. The awkward sway of her gait. Her ribs flaring under that tight-fitting cream shirt with every quick breath.

Once inside the round yard, I tighten the girth and turn back to Addy. Her eyes are slightly wider, her hands wringing together, that bottom lip pulled into her teeth. I drop the reins to the ground and close the space between her and me.

I take her arms in my hands and tilt my head down a little. “You are okay. Sergeant will take good care of you. We both will. Once around the yard, and that’s it. No more.”

She nods, fast.

I turn to face the horse and move in beside her. “What are you thinking, Howard?”

“You should go first.” She is shaking now, her breath ragged.

“Will that make it easier, if you see me go around first?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Righto.”

I move to the gelding, pluck up the reins, and grip the pommel before swinging into the saddle. Her gaze lifts to mine. Her lips part, and she drops her hands to her sides. With a cluck from me, Sergeant walks on. She tracks us as we make our way around the yard, turning on the spot, her focus not wavering. When I complete the revolution of the round yard, I pull the horse to a halt.

“Your turn, Howard.” I dismount and lead Sergeant to where she stands. She rubs his forehead with a shaking hand.

“I will walk beside you, okay?”

“Okay,” she whispers.

“You need help getting on?”

She shakes her head no and moves to the side, raising her foot into the stirrup. She glances at me before gripping the reins and some mane. I move beside her and hold Sergeant steady, and she pulls up and mounts. She rearranges her hands and adjusts her feet in the stirrups. Her seat is perfect, her posture impeccable. She would have been one hell of a rider.

Something flips deep in my gut. “Right, you want to rein him around, or me to lead him?”

Her gaze, that has been frozen on the two ears flickering back and forth in front of her, snaps to mine. “You lead.” She’s almost out of breath.

Jesus.

“Hey, Addy?”

Her wide eyes find me.

“You’re alright.”

She nods, but I can see she doesn’t believe me. What will it take to get this girl back to being at home on a horse? We have six weeks to find out.

I lead the gelding at a slow walk around the yard. When we come full circle, I steady him to a halt and look up. She’s frozen. Her breathing is rough and raspy. Oh shit.

“Addy.”

She doesn’t move. Her eyes, not seeing, are fixed somewhere ahead of us. I pull her foot from the stirrup and slide mine in and push up, leaning on Sergeant to move in front of her. “Addy?”

She sucks in a staggered lungful on a soft whimper.

“Howard?”

“Hudson?” she rasps.

“I’m right here. I’m gonna get you down now, alright?”

But she doesn’t respond right away. “No, please.” Her stare snaps and her face crumples. But she takes the reins up. “Let me try again.”

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