Page 51 of Worth Fighting For

I let myself be pulled some distance away before rounding on Mushu. “I can’t ride that thing. It’s going to kill me. I’m going to get thrown off, and I’ll either break every bone in my body or it’ll—oh, I know what it’ll do—it’ll trample my skull into pieces.”

Mushu stares at me. “Okay, first of all, that is really grim. Your mind goes to some pretty dark places, cuz. Second of all, you have to ride it. Because, uh, I don’t know if you remember, but I mentioned to them that you’re a champion horse rider? I kind of, maybe, uh, sort of really drilled down on that fact.”

“What fact?” I hiss, trying hard not to explode at her. “The fact that I have never ridden a horse before in my life?”

“Not true. You said it yourself, pony rides at Disneyland,” Mushu says. “It’s the same thing,” she continues, though when she glances back at the beast, she looks somewhat hesitant herself. “Come on, Mulan, you rode the mechanical bull last night and you were amazing at it. Same concept, right?”

I don’t even deign to give this one a reply. I merely glare at Mushu until she looks down guiltily. Then she looks up again. “And you’re the badass who started a bar fight, remember?”

“I thought you started it.”

“Come on, let’s go, people!” James calls out.

I take a deep breath. “Damn it.” I narrow my eyes at Mushu. “You need to stop talking me up.”

“Copy that.”

With that, the two of us rejoin the group. From what little I know about horses, most of which I’ve learned from TikTok, I’ve gathered they’re sensitive, highly intelligent creatures and that I would do well to treat them with the utmost respect. So when I get to within touching distance of the mare, I stop and say in a gentle tone, “Hello, beautiful. What’s your name?”

“This is Slugger,” Uncle Hong says. He’s holding on to the reins of his own horse, a docile-looking one the color of sand.

“Slugger?” I say incredulously. I catch myself. God, what with my hangover and the anxiety crashing into me in waves, it’s next to impossible to keep the Zhou/Ranch Mulan persona up. “Okay, cool. Hi, Slugger.”

Slugger snorts, and I have to stop myself from stepping back. Swallowing, I raise my hand slowly, making sure that Slugger can see it. “Can I touch you, Slugger?” Of course, Slugger doesn’t answer, but she tips her head toward my hand, which I take as an invitation to pet her. The moment my palm meets Slugger’s neck, the knots in my shoulders release. Slugger is warm, her hide smooth, but underneath that she is pure muscle. Touching her is a privilege, and I stroke her gently. I can’t quite describe it, but I trust this creature. And the way that Slugger leans into me makes it clear that she trusts me as well.

Could it be this easy? That Slugger and I just so happen to have that one-in-a-million connection that you only ever read about in stories?

The answer is, of course: Nope.

Slugger hasn’t decided to murder me right then and there, which is a relief, but she also hasn’t decided to let me ride her. As soon as I climb up—or rather, try to climb up—Slugger turns so that her butt is in my face.

“Come on, Slugger,” I mutter, walking around to Slugger’s side. “Work with me here.”

Around me, everyone else has climbed up onto their horses. Even Mushu is happily sitting on top of a dark brown horse and asking the stable hand if her horse responds to “Giddyap.”

I give a soft tug on Slugger’s reins, not enough to actually turn her head or anything, just enough to get her attention. “Listen here, Slugger, I’m not in a good place right now. I’m kind of struggling, and I really need everything to just work out, you know? Especially in front of him.” I nod toward Shang, who’s climbed onto his horse with fluid grace and is looking as regal as a prince. Slugger exhales, and I swear the horse understood me and is going:Girl, fine.

This time, Slugger allows me to climb up. There is half a second of relief—I’m up!—before I look down at the ground and panic claws at my throat. I’m up! I am very, very much up. This is really high up: Is this a normal height to be at when horseback riding? The ground looks like it’s twenty feet away. Slugger clops forward and my torso sways backward with the momentum. I haven’t even started into a trot or—god forbid—a gallop.

“Do not go fast, do not go fast,” I whisper. I’m gripping the reins so tight that my knuckles have turned white.

“Everybody ready?” Uncle Hong calls out.

No, my mind squeaks. Everyone else hoots and cheers. Shang looks over at me, his eyebrows raised. I manage a weak smile. Uncle Hong lifts his reins enthusiastically and his horse starts trotting down the pathway. Everyone else follows suit. Everyone, that is, except for Slugger. Because of course.

“Come on, baby,” I coax. I try to remember the advice I’ve read online on how to make the horse go forward. I tighten my thighs around Slugger and feel the animal shudder to life. Then, as though by magic, Slugger starts walking forward. Jogging. Trotting? “Too fast, too fast,” I squawk, pulling back the reins, and Slugger slows down her pace. “Okay. This is okay. It’s fine.” My mouth is a desert, and though I’ve only ridden for about twenty seconds, my backside is tired and my hands are cramped.

Much, much later, I wish my bum were tired instead of whatever it is now—swinging back and forth between numb and painful. My feet aren’t just killing me, they are slaughtering me. And my hands are definitely not okay. I stretch them open, but the reins jerk in my hands and instinctively my fingers claw back around them again. The others are some distance ahead of me. Several times, Slugger started increasing her pace, and my heart just about jumped out of my mouth as I quickly pulled back on the reins to slow her down. As a result, I’ve fallen way behind and, in fact, I’ve sort of lost sight of the group altogether. But as long as I follow the trail, I’ll get to the campsite. Right?

“Right,” I say out loud.

“What’s right?” someone calls out, and I look up to see Shang riding toward me.

I swear inwardly, but then, against all odds, I’m also kind of really glad to see him here. “Hi,” I say when he stops next to me. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Shang smiles, and it strikes me how easily his smiles are coming now even compared to just a couple of days ago. And I have to admit that I don’t hate it. “How’re you coming along?”

“Oh, you know, taking it easy, just kind of bonding with my girl Slugger over here.”

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