Good enough.
“Hop on just like I told you.” He gestures at parts of the saddle I’m sure he explained in detail while I wasn’t paying attention.
“Sure. Yep.” I’ve seen this a hundred times in movies. How hard can it be? I grab hold of the leather straps, shove my foot into the stirrup, and pull myself up. Unfortunately, neither Cowboy Guy nor I noticed I had the wrong foot in there and I mount the horse backward.
I hold on for dear life as Missy sidesteps, deeply confused by my ignorance. Cowboy Guy laughs, and I can’t help but laugh, too, because I’m looking more like a horse’s ass than the one I’m currently peering over.
“Come here.” Cowboy Guy reaches for me, and with all those muscles honed by manual farm labour, he lifts me off anddown without so much as a grunt or strain.Hot.“Okay, now this time, put your right foot in. And by right, I mean correct. It’s your left foot,” he clarifies.
“Gotcha. I’m assuming this sort of thing happens all the time,” I say, putting my opposite foot into the stirrup.
“Uh... no. It does not.”
Thanks for the vote of confidence.This time I manage to get on facing the right direction. The moment I’m sitting properly in the saddle, Missy tosses her head like she’s ready to hit the fields at a full sprint.
“Woah!” I say, my legs clenching around her.
Cowboy Guy chuckles. “Relax, you’ll be fine. Missy here could walk this trail blindfolded. Couldn’t you, old girl?” He pats the horse’s neck affectionately before grabbing the reins and leading me out. Theclip-clopof her hooves on the concrete is oddly mesmerizing, and the movement of her muscles beneath me is both exciting and anxiety-inducing. If this giant animal realizes how much bigger she is than me, I’m done for. She could kill me with one swift kick to the head.
We step outside and I scan the sea of faces until I find Lex. She gives me a subdued thumbs-up, and I return it with a sly wave. She looks like a natural on a horse, like she’s been taking lessons since she was a little girl.
Missy halts, jarring us to a stop. Cowboy Guy tugs on the reins, looking back over his shoulder. Missy’s head lowers, her stance widens, and I look back to watch as the most intense stream of piss ever to be pissed by any animal begins pouring out of her rear end. The steam rising from her behind, the smell of horse urine, and the sound of it splashing on the pavement make my entire body cringe.
Cowboy Guy looks from Missy and back to me with an amused smile. I open my mouth to say something, but Missy interrupts with a long, satisfied grunt and continues pissing.Looking over to the other riders, they’re all pointing and laughing. Even Lex hides her smile beneath her hand, like of course it would be my horse going for a world-record piss right now.
I wish a SpongeBob SquarePantsten minutes latersign would pop up to shorten the awkwardness, but alas, this is real life, and I must endure every single moment.
Just when I think it will never end and Missy will expire from dehydration, she gives herself a shake andclip-clopsher way through her giant puddle until we’ve rejoined the rest of the riders. I give Lex a look to say,are you writing all this down?But I have no doubt her memory is photographic and she’ll have every awkward moment timestamped.
Cowboy Guy passes the reins to me and moves to help a few others with their horses, adjusting their stirrups and correcting their foot placement. He’s very calm, capable, and patient—all fabulous qualities in a date.
Lex joins me with her black horse, looking so comfortable in her saddle it’s like she belongs in an old Western film. “You doing okay?”
“I’m sure Missy feels great.”
Lex stifles a grin. “I’ll be behind you the whole time.”
“Are you sure that’s safe?” I grimace.
Lex’s dimples pop. “I’ll be fine.”
A few minutes later Cowboy Guy begins leading us down the trail, bringing me up to the front right behind him since we’re technically on a date right now. For about ten minutes everything is normal. We talk about the weather. About the mountains. About the weird cloud overhead that looks like Danny DeVito. What we don’t talk about? Anything of substance. I’m not a small talk person; if we’re not trauma bonding ten minutes after meeting I’m going to get bored.
I glance over my shoulder at Lex, smiling at the memory ofour first conversation and how we both seem to have the same ambivalence for small talk.
“So how about you?” Cowboy Guy asks.
My attention snaps back to his face, kind and open and genuinely curious. Shit.I have zero idea what he just said. “Uh, yeah! Totally. I agree.”
His brow furrows as he tries to piece my cobbled-together reply with the bland conversation we’re having. Silence settles between us, and definitely not the comfortable kind.
“I’m... going to check on a few of the other riders,” Cowboy Guy finally says, unable to salvage our date from the awkwardness it descended into. Can’t say I blame him. I take the opportunity to whip out my phone and snag a selfie, catching a candid picture of Lex behind me as she takes in the gorgeous scenery of the trail while I make a silly face in front of her.
We round the corner on our ride about thirty minutes in. The sun is shining, the trail ride is picturesque, and Cowboy Guy has come back up to the front with me. We’ve returned to amicable conversation, getting along just fine. It’s all evidence of a great date, but all that changes the moment Missy sees the barn.
What I can only describe as a sexy mustang whinnies from its paddock at the stables, tossing its long mane like the horse version of Fabio. Apparently, Missy is horny AF because the moment she spots him she breaks away from the rest of the group at a full-on sprint. My feet fly out of the stirrups, the reins slip out of my hands, and all I can do is hold on to the saddle for dear life and scream at the top of my lungs.
Cowboy Guy lopes up beside me. “Say woah!” he calls. “Squeeze your legs and say woah!”
