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“You’ll be okay, come on.”
He waved her forward. She could not let him think she was this much of a coward. She marched up to the horse, and it shied away.
“Slowly. A horse has personal space just like a human does.”
“You’re in it.”
“I’m part of the herd. Hold out your hand.”
She stuck out an arm, and Bonanza tossed his head. Aiden drew the reins down steadily.
“Do you like someone waving a hand in your face?” he asked.
She patted the horse’s nose. “Sorry horse.”
He shied again, and Aiden led her to the horse’s shoulder.
“Start back here.” He patted Bonanza’s hide at the base of his mane. “They’re just like people. If you’re a stranger, there are only certain places you can touch. Do you want someone rubbing your nose?”
She grunted.
Gently, he touched her shoulder. His hand burned. “But someone touching you here, that’s probably fine.”
He slid his fingers down her arm and took her hand. He guided it to Bonanza’s shoulder.
“See? He likes you.”
Bonanza cocked his head around, one eye fixed on her.
“He doesn’t completely hate you,” Aiden amended ruefully. “Step up.” Aiden looped his fingers together for her to step into.
“This is not how I pictured the end of this day would go,” she said.
“You and me both, honey.”
Slowly, she put her foot in his hand. He tossed her into the saddle like she weighed nothing. Her stomach swooped, and she shouted as she almost went off the other side until he grabbed her calf. He pulled on her leg, and she righted in the saddle.
“You good?” he asked.
“I have no idea.”
“Hang on.”
She wasn’t sure how he was going to get up, but in moments, he settled behind her, riding bareback behind the saddle.
Slowly, he directed her hands to the horn. “Keep them there.”
He reached around her to hold the reins. With a click of his tongue, the horse started forward. They made it out of the barn and picked up speed as he led the horse into the woods.
She surged with every step until he transferred the reins to one hand and plastered his other on her belly, so she was leaning against him. It didn’t help much; she still bounced around.
“You are seriously bad at this,” he said as he tried to get her to move with him and the horse.
“Contrary to the stereotype that us hicks from West Virginia ride our horses to school uphill both ways, I’ve never sat on a horse before.”
“Never?”
“Never,” she said firmly. There was a stable in Harpers Ferry for tourists to take horses on the trail, but she didn’t get within a square block of the place. It stunk to high heaven.
