Page 62 of Firefly Embers

A loud groan floated across the group, and Pops chuckled loudly.

“Welcome to the family, Bubbles Flower Pancake.”

WADE

Breathe in

Breathe out.

Breathe in.

Breathe Out.

Standing there, the smell of hay and damp air filling my senses, my heart shouldn’t have been racing, but I wasn’t coming to the stables for my daily hour of grunt work.

I was standing on the precipice of the possibility that everything I’d been told for the last year wasn’t true. The whinnying of horses ready to be set out to pasture or tacked up for a ride used to be a soundtrack that calmed me.

Now, those same sounds filled me with an unrelenting pressure of dread.

There was nothing ‌in this world I wanted more than to step my boot into the stirrup, mount this horse, and go for a ride. The problem wasn’t that I physically couldn’t do it; it was that my brain kept conjuring worst-case scenarios, threatening to send me into a panic attack.

“It’s not a race. Take it one step at a time.” Dr. Langford spoke softly from outside the stable, her reminder allowing me to take a baby step forward and grab the reins that dangled limply from their attachment point on the bridle.

The leather felt cool in my hands as I let the strap trail through my fingers. The once familiar feeling, now stiff and strained, as my body fought the trauma response.

I took another step further, allowing my fingers to brush across the coarse hair along the horse’s neck.

Using techniques the therapists and I had discussed, I focused on one sense at a time, running my fingers once again over the horse’s hair, cataloging the feel of it against my rough calluses.

Feeling the anxiety that had been building inside of me retreating, I took a fortified step forward, placing my hand in front of the horse to allow it to smell me before rubbing its long snout and ears.

The horse leaned into my touch, reveling in the attention and scratches. It nudged my hand upward, and I chuckled lightly at its insistence for more petting.

A cowboy never enters the stables unprepared, and I reached into the pocket of my jeans, pulling out a peppermint I’d managed to swipe from the front desk. I held it out flat in my palm for the horse’s whiskery lips to gobble up.

“Good girl,” I whispered reverently as the horse once again nuzzled her long snout into my hand, pushing me where she wanted me to scratch.

“How do you feel?” Dr. Langford asked from her spot outside the stable door. She stood to the side, watching closely for any setbacks in my ability to self-regulate.

“I’ve been around these animals every day for the entirety of my life, Doc. I feel at home. Even if the thought of what could happen when I put my boots in those stirrups sends me into a spiral, I feel like I’m right where I’m supposed to be.”

Her gentle smile and slight nod of approval had me beaming with pride. I sensed what she was about to say before she said it, and for once, my heart raced with an excited giddiness instead of overwhelming dread.

“How would you feel about going for a short ride?”

“Excuse my language, but fuck yes.”

She chuckled loudly, which caused a laugh to bubble out from my chest. It felt good to feel happy again, even if I knew that it could be temporary. The idea that I still had the capacity to smile, laugh, and joke meant that I wasn’t as lost as I’d previously assumed.

Getting back in the saddle felt amazing. Nothing felt as natural as getting on the back of a horse, even if it wasn’t for a long ride.

Dr. Langford had promised I could take a quick trot around the small dirt arena they used for equine therapy if I felt like I could handle it. Nothing was holding me back, and I knew in my heart that I needed this ride.

I appreciated the fact that she let me make the choices and didn’t handle me with kid gloves. She trusted me enough to know when something was going to be too much, and I was thankful we had been paired together on this journey.

Truthfully, I was going to miss her the following week when our sessions ended. She was such an important part of my healing journey, and I would forever be thankful for all of her expertise, even if it was painful getting to this point.

As I rounded the horse in a circle, relishing ‌the warmth of the fading summer sunlight on my skin, I reflected on how far I’d come in just three short weeks at Ember Ridge.