Page 59 of Playing With Love

I rushed into the stall, got behind the animal, and tapped its rump.

“Come on, move, girl.”

The horse moved. Unfortunately, it sidestepped, trapping me next to the side of the stall.

I tapped it again, this time harder.

“We have to go, horse. Move.”

I didn’t know where Chelsea was but now would be a good time for her to come in and get her horse.

It must’ve been the smoke inhalation or the adrenaline of being in a barn that was on fire making horrible crackling sounds, and the fear it was going to collapse around me that sent me climbing up the wooden slats of the stall. With no good sense, I climbed onto the back of the horse, grabbed a fistful of its mane, and did what I’d seen cowboys do in movies. I dug my heels into the gigantic beast’s side and yelled, “Giddy up!”

“Where are you?” Chelsea yelled.

I didn’t answer. Though I would’ve if I’d had breath left in my lungs, however, it had evacuated in a whoosh when the horse shot forward out of the stall, turned swiftly, and took off.

“Oh shit!” I heard Chelsea shout as the horse galloped past her.

“What the fuck?”

That was Tucker from inside the barn somewhere. Not that I could see where he was since my eyes were closed. I then decided it would be a good idea if I held on tighter. So I leaned forward, wrapped my arms around the horse’s neck, and prayed to all that was holy the animal knew its way out. If not, we were dying together.

Suddenly the heat and smoke receded. I didn’t open my eyes but I did breathe in fresh air.

“Liza!” Logan shouted.

Since I didn’t know how to make the horse stop running, I thought it best to just hold on until she decided she was tired. Hopefully, I’d still be on her back and all my bones would be unbroken. I pried one eye open, saw we were in the open field I’d spied from the laundry room window, and decided this was good because it was a fenced off area so we wouldn’t end up in Hollow Point proper. I shut my eyes tight again.

“Whoa, Rebel!”

Thank the sweet Lord of salvation, Chelsea was close.

“How do I stop?”

“Let go of her neck and lean back.”

Was she insane?

“I’ll fall!”

“I’m gonna rope her but I can’t without catching you. Lean back.”

Chelsea was a bull rider, a barrel racer, a rodeo-riding badass. I really didn’t want to fall to my death after I’d survived a burning barn, not to mention it’d be painfully embarrassing. But I wanted off the horse more than I cared about my pride. I slowly released the horse's neck, found purchase by grabbing two fistfuls of coarse hair hoping I wasn’t scaring the poor thing, and leaned back as far as I dared. It was also a good time to open my eyes.

I saw Chelsea on the back of a gray horse, swinging a rope over her head. She swung it out and let it fly. The hoop lassoed around the horse’s neck and Chelsea took control.

“Slow, Rebel.”

We slowed.

Chelsea closed the distance between us, bringing her next to me.

“Liza, right?”

“Yup. Though if I make it off…what’s the horse’s name?”

“Rebel,” she supplied.