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She was still gripping the saddle horn with both hands, hunched over so her blonde hair mingled with the chestnut mane. It looked like he’d given the horse highlights.
“Is your foot in the stirrup?” He didn’t want to let go of her to check.
“Mostly.” She shifted. “Yeah.”
“Okay, great. Sit up.”
“It’s really okay. I am fine.”
He slid his hand up her leg, told himself to let go of her, failed, and rested his hand on the small of her back. “You’re okay. You’re balanced. Clench these muscles and just sit straight back.”
He felt them tense beneath his hand as she pushed off the horn. She lost her seat for a second and slid to the side. He gripped the back of her pants until she was stable again. He should have told her to change into jeans, but they weren’t going far.
When she didn’t move, he walked around the front of the horse and made sure her other foot was firmly in the stirrup. Then he drew the reins over Beauty’s head and offered them to her.
Goldie made no move to take them.
He put his hand over hers on the saddle horn. “If you start falling, you’re not gonna keep yourself up with your fingers, so this isn’t gonna help.”
She laughed. “You’re a terrible teacher. You’re supposed to say I’m not gonna fall.”
He tightened his grip before he deliberately let go. “If a teacher ever told you that, they would be terrible. This is a thousand-pound animal. You’re almost five feet off the ground. Of course, you can fall. Part of my job is to make sure you can do so safely.”
“I’ll walk.” She didn’t move.
“But also, this girl is almost twenty years old. She’s the steadiest horse in the paddock. You’re in great hands.”
“She doesn’t have hands.”
“You’re in excellent hooves. That sounded wrong.” He felt the corners of his mouth curl up and offered her the reins again.
She licked her lips and let go of the saddle to grab them.
“Tighten your abs. That’s how you stay on a horse. It’s all in your core.”
He shifted the leather strips so they rested across her palms. “Now, these are guides. They’re not like a dog’s leash. Don’t haul on them. Don’t keep tension in them.”
“Okay, so if they’re not a leash, what are they?” she asked, holding them like an offering.
He thought about that for a second. “They’re like the blinker in a car.”
“Great, I’m riding through the woods on a thousand-pound horse, but don’t worry, it’s got turn signals.”
He laughed again, startling Beauty into tossing her head.
Goldie clambered for the saddle horn. He resisted the urge to jump to her rescue. He wasn’t wrong about his horse. Beauty would sprout wings and fly away before she threw her. Slowly, Goldie sat back up and readjusted her grip on the reins.
“Great job.”
“Don’t bullshit me.”
“Non-terrible job.”
“Better. What am I doing wrong?”
He put his hand on her thigh again. “When I said hold yourself up, I meant flexibly. Remember, your seat moves. You’ve got to move with it. Let’s take a step.”
“Wait.”
