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Maverick is built to run, it’s in the makeup of his genes and you can see it in his powerful legs, all the way into his bones.
If I hadn’t grown up around horses, I suppose I would be cautious, too, kind of how I felt getting on the back of Cash’s bike. It did not go unnoticed that he took the route with more traffic, letting me get used to the motion before we hit the canyon when he really let it open up. In a way, it’s similar to riding a horse, the way you start off in a trot and then hit the clutch, moving you into a canter. It’s that first lurch when you switch gears, and like a horse’s neck stretching forward before you feel the smooth transition into this feeling of utter freedom.
Riding a motorcycle is fear and lust tangled up in the chaos of steel and metal that gives way to bone and sinewy muscle of a horse between your legs. With the wind in my hair, I felt the goosebumps all the way down to my core.
“Not Maverick anymore,” I answer. “He has a racing injury, and now that he’s an old man, it’s caused arthritis in his leg.” I tickle the grey whiskers on his chin. “He’ll spend however many years he has left, unbridled and unsaddled, free to roam the pasture and eat as many carrots as he wants.” I give him a kiss on his nose to which he gives an ornery protest of a snort.
“What’s the deal with him?” Cash points towards Ivan. “I don’t know anything about horses, but my instincts tell me that when an animal’s ears go flat, it’s not a good sign.”
“That’s true, but Ivan isn’t aggressive.” I reach to pet him and he moves away from me. I suspect he doesn’t like Cash in the barn. “He’s just scared.”
Cash moves towards me, taking small steps to close the short distance between us. Butterflies flutter in my stomach and I hold my breath when he reaches out towards me.
“You have a piece of hay stuck in your hair.” He gently untangles it and lifts it up between us to show me before letting it fall to the ground. Ivan snorts, pinning his ears back again and Cash backs away.
“I don’t think he likes me,” Cash says, settling his back against the wall between one of the empty stalls. He looks like a fish out of water with his black and white Converse, now muted with dust, dark blue jeans, and a leather jacket over his graphic t-shirt.
“Is he a rescue, too?” he asks while under my scrutiny.
I nod. “We don’t have any history on Ivan, but I suspect he was used as a dressage horse although he doesn’t fit the profile, being such a big guy.” I look over at him as he settles himself in the stall.
“I don’t think he was cared for very well. We first got him when I was in high school. He wouldn’t let anyone get close to him. It’s typical for horses that’ve been abused. They don’t know who to trust.”
“How did you win him over?” Cash’s mouth pulls at the corners, almost as if he already knows the answer.
“With a lot of patience,” I giggle, “and peppermints.”
14
SHORT FOR JOLENE
CASH
Some Kind of Wonderful by Grand Funk Railroad
Grand Funk Railroadplays in the background and I chuckle. Sasha knows how to create an eclectic playlist, and a lot of the songs are from the albums I gave her. I look behind me through the barn doors to the patio where I can see people dancing. “I told you they would blow your mind.”
“By the looks of it, everyone else is enjoying the music too.” Sasha turns off the light and pulls the heavy barn door shut behind us.
“Shouldn’t you be enjoying the party?” she asks.
“I could say the same about you,” I counter.
“That is true.”
I admire her yellow and white sundress. The top is fitted with wide straps, but flares out at her waist and moves when she walks. I never knew how much I liked cowboy boots, but only because they are on her.
“I didn’t think places like this existed.” I look at the pasture, now darkened by the star-littered sky. We don’t have skies like this in the city, and it’s odd to think that this place is only a twenty minute drive away, on a good day. It’s quiet and peaceful - aside from the music and chatter.
We walk down the dark dirt path and follow the lights and the music back to the patio. By this time of night, the drinks are flowing, and the makeshift dance floor is packed with people having a good time, and something shifts in me. There used to be a time when I enjoyed life, the thrill of the unknown, and I didn’t worry so much. Sasha makes me crave the kind of freedom only someone her age has.
Sasha laughs as I grab her hand and pull her into the middle of the dance floor. I hold onto her waist as we dance toSome Kind of Wonderful. She looks shocked when she figures out I can actually dance, so I spin her around and then bring her back to me, eliciting a musical laugh that I can’t seem to get enough of.
Her body moves in sync with mine, and it’s effortless. It’s her dress, her gorgeous smile, and her laugh that I never knew I was missing.
When I move, you move.
I slow her down enough so she can hear when I say, “You have managed to surprise the shit out of me.”
