Page 37 of The Lost Hours
Emily reached down and scooped up the little girl, mindless of the dirt on her pants from Sara’s boots. “That’s right. Tell Miss Earlene that we’ve been reading about the different types of riding costumes, and the different kinds of horses and saddles.”
Sara nodded exuberantly. “We went to the library and got lots of books. Then Miss Emily took us shopping and we bought all these new riding clothes.”
“I can see that,” I said, unable to resist tugging on one of her pigtails. “There’s only one thing missing, though,” I said, looking pointedly at the otherwise empty ring.
Emily set Sara on her feet again. “Oh, you noticed that, did you?” She grinned. “Tucker’s bringing the ponies up from the stable—he’ll be here in just a minute. A friend of his is allowing him to borrow two of their school ponies until Tucker can determine if the girls even like riding. And if they seem to want to continue, he’ll take them shopping for their own ponies.”
Lucy, who’d remained silently watching us the whole time, walked slowly up to us and turned her dark eyes up to me. “I’m going to be a very good rider.”
I met her solemn gaze, recognizing the courage it had taken for this small, serious girl to tell me that, as well as something that reminded me of a younger version of myself. “And that’s the attitude you’ll need if you want to be. When I competed, there wasn’t a single competitor out there who thought they weren’t any good. Those with doubts had already dropped out.”
She nodded her head, satisfied with my answer.
“Do you still ride competitively?”
Emily’s question caught me by surprise and it took me a moment to answer. “No. I had an accident, so I don’t ride anymore.”
She nodded again, her lips pursed in thought. “I’m not trying to offend you, but I noticed you limping—I’m assuming from the accident.”
Sara saved me from answering. “She got really big boo-boos on her knee and that’s why she walks funny.”
“Sara!” Both Lucy and Emily spoke together in the same admonishing tone.
“It’s all right,” I said. “She’s right. I do walk funny and it is because of my scars.” I was beginning to find it easier the more I talked about it. As long as the questions didn’t go any further.
“Are you still doing physical therapy?”
I looked at Emily’s innocent expression and wondered if George had found a way to contact her so that she could harass me in his absence. “I did at first, but I didn’t seem to be getting anywhere so I just . . . stopped.” I didn’t see the need to explain that I’d also stopped doing everything else at the same time so it made it easier to no longer notice that I couldn’t walk without a limp.
“I’m not trying to be nosy. It’s just that I’m going to school at night to become a physical therapist, so I was curious about your type of injury and what sort of treatment you were given.”
I was about to ask her if she knew George Baker, but was thankfully interrupted by the appearance of Tucker leading two very small ponies, one even smaller and plumper than the first.
Tucker stopped in front of the girls, a pony on either side of him. “I tried to gift-wrap them, but Oreo here didn’t want to get in the box.” He sent them a shy smile.
“Silly Daddy,” Sara said as she moved to stand in front of Tucker, keeping a distance between her and the animals. “Which one’s Oreo?”
Lucy rolled her eyes. “It’s the black-and-white spotted one, stupid. Who would name a white pony Oreo?”
Emily glanced at Tucker before speaking to Lucy. “Lucy, you know you’re not supposed to call your sister names. Please apologize.”
After a frown and a heavy sigh, Lucy apologized, her voice even managing to sound sincere.
“I want Oreo,” Sara announced.
“That’s a good thing,” Tucker said. “Because that’s the one I thought would be perfect for you.”
I stepped forward. “Which one of you would like to go first?”
Sara pointed to her sister. “Lucy.”
I looked at Lucy, and when she nodded, I took the reins of the larger pony from Tucker and led him to the mounting block. Small, slow, and placid, he was the perfect horse for a first timer. It was also the perfect horse for me. I patted his neck before tightening his girth and checking the bridle. My fingers ran the irons down the leathers in motions I didn’t even have to think about—movements that were as much a part of me as breathing.
I turned to Lucy. “You ready?”
She nodded and approached the mounting block.
“Have you ever ridden before?”
