15. Fable

Chapter 15

Fable

" W e're going riding today!" Gunnar announces the first thing the next morning when I walk into breakfast. "Horseback riding is a much better option than walking."

"Rhett told you about that, I assume?" I ask, wincing.

"He did," Gunnar nods. "Nothing wrong with a walk, but you walked mighty far."

He leads me out to the stables after we eat a nice helping of breakfast tacos and introduces me to a pretty chestnut colored horse. "This here is our American Azteca, creatively named Aztec," he laughs. "He's very calm-natured, so you'll be riding him today once I get you all familiar with everything you need to know." He pats the horse on the neck. "He'll treat you right."

"Which one will you be riding?" I ask.

"Duke, over there," he says, pointing to a massive horse. "He's a Clydesdale. He's feisty and is just as likely to throw me off as he is to let me ride him. But he and I are a team. I've been working with him for a few years. He was considered unrideable before he came to Circle Bee."

I watch as he leads both Duke and Aztec out of the stables and ties them to metal rings. Then I get a long lesson about saddles and tack. Once he shows me how to put the saddle on Aztec, he unfastens everything so I can do it. I have to redo it three times before Gunnar is satisfied I know what I'm doing.

"Okay, so when we ride, you have to be in charge. Aztec will automatically give you control unlike Duke here. Duke likes to fight for control."

Mr. Frizzle sits on the side, roosting on a little bar that Gunnar set him on.

"Is he coming with us?" I ask, pointing to the rooster.

I haven't really seen Gunnar without the chicken. Only for meals and our first initial meeting. The rooster stays out on the porch for meals. I'd be surprised if he doesn't come on our ride with us.

"He sits on my shoulder," Gunnar nods. "Mr. Frizzle likes riding."

Once the saddles are on and the horses are ready, Gunnar comes over to me. "Now, you're gonna get up on him. Place your right leg in the stirrup and swing your left leg over into the other stirrup. I'll let you get a feel for it first, so you're not caught off guard when he moves."

I immediately realize there's going to be a problem I didn't foresee. My right leg can't bear my weight like this. Not yet. I need to lead with my left.

"Can I do it from the other side?" I ask, moving to the other side of Aztec.

"Your right leg is your dominant, the one you lean heaviest on. It's easier to swing over with the other leg," he explains.

"I don't think I can?—"

"I'll help you up," he says, cutting me off. "Don't worry, Everhart. Everyone has a hard time getting up the first time they try. If you don't mind my hands on you, I can lift the same time as you pull."

I hesitate before reluctantly nodding. I really wanna go riding with Gunnar. Horseback riding is something I've never done, and I don't want to miss out or make a big deal about it.

"Okay, good. Right leg in the stirrup," he instructs. "Hand on the horn."

I do as he says, fumbling a little bit with my leg to get it in the stirrup. I'm wearing boots and jeans, so he can't see my prosthetic, but he has to think I'm clumsy or weak with the way I have to use my hands to get my leg into the stirrup.

"Alright, I'm going to lift you up," he says. His hands go to the backs of my thighs. "Ready. . . set. . . up." He cups my ass and hoists me onto the horse easily, as if I don't weigh a thing. I swing my leg over as I get high enough and straddle the horse, settling into the saddle. "There! See! Nothing to it," Gunnar grins, and then he pats my calf. The sound it makes is different from what he expects, and he pauses, a frown pulling at his face. His eyes trail up to mine as I flush. I can see the moment he realizes something must be different.

"I didn't want to make a big deal," I whisper, my face hot with shame.

"May I?" he asks, gesturing to my bootcut jeans that perfectly hid it until now.

"I. . ." I wince. Instead of answering, I nod.

Carefully he pushes my jeans up and reveals the prosthetic I've been hiding for a week now. His eyes widen and I wait for the change in demeanor, the pity.

Instead, he scowls up at me. "Why didn't you tell me?" he growls. "I could have made this so much easier on you."

"It's not something. . . I don't broadcast it," I rasp.

"You thought we were going to judge you for it?" he asks, shaking his head. "I'd have thought you knew me better than that, Everhart."

This time, my face flushes with shame. "Sorry," I mumble.

His expression eases. "Don't be. Shit. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel bad. I just wish I'd have known. I could have gotten a step ladder or something. Hell, I could have picked you up and put you on the horse myself. It won't matter while we're riding. But it matters when getting up and down." He presses his hand to his forehead. "Fuck. And you tried to tell me, and I just cut you off. I'm an asshole."

"Stop," I rasp. "Please. It's not a big deal. I don't want to make it a big deal."

He looks up at me. "The limp?"

I wince. "I'm still building up strength in my leg."

Realization flashes in his eyes, that it's more recent than he assumed, but he doesn't ask. He can see my discomfort, so he pulls down my pant leg, fixing it properly, before he moves over to Duke. "Alright. Well, let's go riding then." Just like that, he returns to normal. "Don't hit your head on the door frame on the way out."

Relief fills me. Nothing changed once he knew. Some part of me worried he'd switch to pity when he looks at me, but he only cocks a smile over at me as he hoists himself up on his much taller horse. "You ready for the ride of your life, Florida Girl?"

I nod enthusiastically, my eyes watering at the relief I feel. "Hell yeah," I choke out.

He leads me forward after he settles Mr. Frizzle on the saddle horn in front of him. Aztec mostly follows Duke on his own, but I hold the reins just in case. I duck as we exit the stables and then we're trotting out into the mountains. We move slowly at first, easy, as we leave the house behind. The wind brushes my hair back from my face as we cut through the pastures.

"Ready to open him up?" Gunnar asks, smiling at the expression on my face. Horseback riding is everything I expect it to be, and something in me feels lighter with the gentle trot.

"Faster?" I ask.

"Oh, Aztec is fast," he nods. "The best thing is letting go of the reins and opening your arms out wide," he says with a grin. "If you try it, make sure you squeeze with your thighs tightly and hold on. I don't want you falling off. One fall can send you to the emergency room."

"Noted," I say, knowing I'm not going to let go. That seems too risky.

"Alright. Let's go," he nods and snaps the reins on Duke. Duke immediately leaps into a run and Aztec follows.

My fingers tighten on the reins and my thighs tighten in fear as Aztec goes from a trot to a full out gallop. Panic grabs hold and threatens to send me spiraling, but then the wind whips through my hair, sending it flowing out behind me. That breeze strokes my face and races past me as Aztec flies across the pasture, right behind Gunnar, and something inside of me changes.

Becomes lighter.

Eases.

My heart explodes in excitement as we race across the pastures, as our horses run. Aztec starts to outpace Duke, and we start pulling ahead. Laughter spills out of my lips unburdened. Pure joy for the first time in a long time. Before I can think better of it, I squeeze my thighs tight and slowly release the reigns. I move my hips with Aztec's gallop, keeping balanced, before I raise my arms out to my sides like Gunnar had said to.

He whoops in excitement, spreading his own arms, laughing at how it feels. "You go, Florida Girl!" he shouts over the wind. "Look at you go!"

It feels like flying. I've never felt so weightless. . .

. . . except for one other moment in my life.

The tears start coming before I can stop them. I don't even realize they're there until the sobs start to wrench from my throat and I'm clutching onto the reins again, desperately trying to collect myself before Gunnar can see, afraid I'll fall off when my vision grows hazy with tears.

"Whoa! Whoa!" he calls, and I realize I'm too late as he coaxes Aztec and Duke to slow, grabbing at my reins to pull back and make the horses stop. "What's wrong? Fable? Are you hurt?" he asks as he comes up beside me, reaching over to pull me into a hug despite the height difference between our horses.

But I can't answer. The sobs come pouring from my throat, so thick I can barely breathe. Gunnar stops asking if I'm okay and just holds me, his arms strong around me as he leans across the distance between our horses despite the position having to be uncomfortable. When it becomes too difficult, he moves Mr. Frizzle to my saddle and drags me up onto his horse in front of him. Mr. Frizzle doesn't even put up a flight.

"I'm sorry," I sniffle as I gain some composure and try to clean my face. I'm sure I look a mess right about now, my face red and splotchy. Oh god. I'm snotting. I know it.

"Don't be sorry," he whispers, holding me tight. "I don't exactly know what's happening, but I just hate to see you cry." His hands rub along my arms, sending goosebumps along them. "What can I do to make you feel better?"

He's the absolute sweetest, and my heart hurts, and that's the reason I say what I do. That's the reason I forget my hesitation and tip my head back to look up into his eyes. I sniff, trying to find the words, but he looks at me patiently, waiting.

I wince. "Is there. . . is there a craft or fabric store in town by any chance?"