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“No way.” I scowl.
“Yes, way. You’re just not looking when he does.”
Our hosts finish up and trot their horses back to our group.
“So . . .” Wyatt swipes his cowboy hat off his head and runs a hand over his balding head. “Now that you’ve seen it, we’ll take three volunteers to pen up the cows tomorrow.”
Eddie’s hand shoots up, and I smile. No one else is quick to volunteer, and I’m leery of going first too.
“C’mon,” Luca says, “everyone will get the chance. We just need the first three.”
Sean pipes up with an exaggerated drawl, “Ah, heck. I’ll give it a go too.” He’s getting into the role, and that makes me smile.
“One more,” says Emma. “We’ll help, but this is one of the team-building activities you’ll reflect on at the end of the retreat.”
I open my mouth to nominate our boss Geoffrey when—
“Thanks, Jack!” Luca cuts me off.
“I was going to say . . .” I narrow my eyes at the smirking cowboy. “I think Geoffrey, as our leader, should go first.”
Emma guides her horse between me and Luca, looking at him. I can’t see her face or if she says anything to him silently, but he shrinks a little in the saddle.
“Awesome!” Emma says. “So, we have Jack, Sean, and Eddie for tomorrow. For now, shall we get camp set up?”
Wyatt slides off his horse, scratching Butch behind his black ear. The black and white Border Collie with one blue eye leans into Wyatt’s touch and groans audibly.
After everyone dismounts, Wyatt frees a leather strap with some metal rings and a buckle from his saddle and holds it up. “Everyone should have one of these on your saddles. Time to learn to hobble the horses.”
My heart skips, and I unintentionally shoot a wide-eyed glance over to Luca.
He tips his hat, hiding his eyes, grabs the strap from his mare’s saddle, and bends down to her side near her hooves.
Wyatt holds the strap up. “This is called a figure eight hobble.” He crouches in front of his horse. “Run it behind and around the outside leg, loop it through the ring in both directions, and around the inside leg and buckle it off. Make sure you keep it loose. The horses are trained to graze in a small circle with these on, but you don’t want it too tight.” He finishes and stands. “Now, you all give it a whirl.”
Luca and Emma finished hobbling their own horses by the time Wyatt said this.
“We’re here to assist if you need help,” Emma adds.
Before I crouch to put the strap around Jasper’s legs, I work it into the figure eight. When it seems to make sense, I bend down and follow Wyatt’s instructions to a tee. When I finish, it looks exactly like Wyatt’s work, so I stand up and hold my hands out as if it was the easiest thing in the world. In front of Jasper, I hold his reins in one hand and stroke his soft muzzle with the other.
“Once you’ve got the hobble in place,” says Wyatt, “you’re going to lead your horse to his or her left like this.” Luca gently pulls the reign in the direction he wants the horse to go.
Still in front of my horse, I use my left hand to push slightly on Jasper’s muzzle to get him to turn. He stumbles and rears up on his hind legs, and before I can process what’s happening, I’m prone on the ground, boots in the air for the second time in one day. I sit up, drape my arms over my knees, and let my head hang between my arms. Why am I the only one having such a hard time with this? I breathe slowly, attempting to quell my embarrassment, and see Luca’s boots jogging over to the horse.
“Whoa, boy. Whoa.” Luca’s voice soothes Jasper and I peek over to see what’s going on.
Luca has settled Jasper and smiles. He looks down at me and laughs.
Luca
I offer Jack a handand try desperately to curb my laughter. But I’m hopeless when it comes to pretending. The corners of my mouth hurt from trying to fight the smile. I rub my nose with my free hand; maybe that’ll cover it.
“You, um, yeah. You can’t stand in front of a horse while guiding them. Their eyes are on the sides of their head, so they can’t see you and don’t understand what’s happening.”
“You don’t have to be so amused at my ignorance,” she chides. And, really, how adorable is her irritation?
I attempt to divert my eyes away from Jack as she brushes dirt off her pants. It’s pointless, though. I can’t help but follow the path her hands trace over her curves. Her face is red with embarrassment, and she looks everywhere but at me.
