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“Promise.”

I adjust the stirrups for her and show her where her feet should sit, making sure she’s comfortable before we go anywhere.

“Keep your heels down. Sit tall, but don’t stiffen up.”

“I’m sitting on an animal that weighs about five times what I do. Stiff is all I’ve got.”

“Breathe.”

She exhales, loosening her grip on the saddle just a little.

“Better.”

I take Honey’s lead and walk her around the yard first, keeping close enough to help if Nora loses her balance. We make one circle, then another, while I show her how to hold the reins and how a gentle squeeze from her legs asks Honey to move forward.

“How do I stop?”

“Sit deep and pull back gently. Say whoa.”

“Whoa?”

“Honey speaks Wyoming.”

She laughs.

And there it is again.

That sound.

I like it too much.

After another few circles, I stop Honey and hand Nora the reins completely, staying beside them as she looks down at her hands in disbelief.

“Wait. What are you doing?”

“Letting go.”

“Jude.”

“You got her.”

“I absolutely do not got her.”

Honey starts walking, and Nora immediately stiffens, gripping the reins as though they’re the only things keeping her alive.

“Relax your hips. Move with her.”

“How?”

“Stop thinking.”

“Terrible advice!”

But she does it. Slowly, her body starts following Honey’s movements instead of fighting against them, and I watch the tension gradually leave her shoulders as she finds her balance.

“There.”

“What?”