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We round the bend and drive into the prairie until the pond comes into view. I drive across the way until I see the picnic tables under the tree, but then I notice two horses tied to a post. Glancing over at Jackson, he laughs.
“Giddyup,” he says.
I park the side by side and walk up to the horses where another envelope is tied to the saddle. I can’t open it fast enough.
I never forgot about your bucket list.
To ride a horse is pure bliss.
Giddyup, sweetheart, let’s get going.
From this location, you’ll feel the sun glowing.
Stand at the top, and you can see it too
That’s where the next clue is waiting for you.
There’s a map of the property that’s hand drawn with different points on it. There’s a little X by the pond that says YOU ARE HERE.
“Wait,” I say, reading the note again. “I have to ride a horse?”
“Why do you think I was volun-told to come along?” He bursts into laughter. “Mainly to make sure you don’t hurt yourself or get lost.”
I look at the large, intimidating horse and saddle. “I don’t even know what to do.”
Jackson walks over and explains the details of riding. “This thing around her head is a halter, and this rope is called a lead rope. I’ll make sure to hold her steady for you just in case she wants to move as you’re trying to get on. This is the stirrup. You’ll stick your foot in here and hold on to the horn and pull yourself up. You’ll fully swing your leg over the saddle then place it in the other stirrup. Once you’re on, you’ll grab these reins, and then it’s as easy as driving a car. Move the reins left, the horse goes left, right she goes right, pull back and she stops. Her name is Willow. I know she’s a big ol’ girl, but she’s gentle and one of the horses we put the kids on. So there’s really nothing to be afraid of.”
I’m pretty sure he could see the worry in my eyes. I look over at Jackson’s horse, jet black, pawing at the ground with his hoof. “And I guess yours is the one the headless horseman rides? He looks like the devil,” I say with a laugh.
“He’s feisty, just like me. So we get along good. Better get going.” Jackson holds Willow steady, and I stick my foot in the stirrup like he instructed. At first, I struggled, then was able to finally pull myself up on the saddle. I look down at him and can’t believe I’m actually on a horse. “This is weird. I can’t explain it.”
“You get used to it. Hold the horn and the reins.” Jackson unclips the lead rope and walks over to his horse and hops on like it’s nothing. He looks over at me. “Come on. You’re leading.”
I reread the note again, trying to get comfortable on Willow and look at the map. There are several different places that could give me a view, but I have a feeling about this one. “The red trail to the lookout point. That’s where we should go.”
Jackson doesn’t give me any clues, as I turn the horse and head toward the post that’s painted red. Horseback riding is so different. This giant animal and I are as one as we continue slowly down the trail. I can’t stop smiling and looking at my surroundings. This place is beautiful, and the sun is shining on my shoulders. It’s so warm and covers me like a blanket. As I take it all in, I’m so grateful to be able to call this home and be able to raise our baby here.
“Ready to gallop?” Jackson asks, clicking his mouth and passing me up. “Just hold on real tight with your legs and keep your arms down, so you don’t look like you’re flying away. Willow is a sprinter, and she’s as fast as the wind,” he says before going into a full run ahead.
I suck in a deep breath and barely kick, and Willow takes off. At first, I feel like I might bounce right off until she goes faster and we’re moving in a smooth rhythm together, racing down the trail following Jackson’s dust. I’m absolutely fucking elated as I hold on to the horn for dear life. This is freedom as the cool October breeze hits my face. At the end of the trail, where it splits into two, Jackson is stopped and waiting for me with a huge smile on his face.
“Now I know why you want to do this every day.” I’m breathing hard, adrenaline rushing.
He gives me a quick head nod. “So which way now?”
I point. “Over there. At the top of that hill, where the lookout is.”
“After you,” he says, and I guide Willow down the trail, and Jackson follows. As we climb up a hill, I can see Mr. Bishop driving a tractor with a trailer full of hay bales. Once at the top, I pull the reins back, and Willow stops.
