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He gave her a kind smile that felt like a pat on her head.
Rex swished at a fly. The movement made her clutch the horn like she was digging into the pocket on the third barrel.
“Ready to go? You’ve got this.” And the absolute belief in Grayson’s eyes gave her the courage to try.
“Sure.” Liar.
He stepped away, his hands out like she was a house of cards he was afraid might topple. “Ask him forward.”
She nudged Rex, her balance a little wobbly on the first steps.
“You’re stiff. Let the horse’s motion move your body—relax. You know how to do this. I’ve seen you on barrels.”
He remembered her running the barrels?
Heat flashed up her neck.
She tried to let her weight float forward like she would in the kayak. Let the squeak of the leather—both familiar and new—calm her. She followed the side-to-side movement of the horse’s barrel beneath her. Listened to the steady thud of each footfall.
Grayson swung up onto Maverick and circled behind her.
Beth leaned down and rubbed Rex’s shoulder.
She was riding a horse again, and it filled her with a wild swirl of wonder.
“You’re pretty good at this whole teaching thing.” She glanced over at him and would have smiled—except she already was. She couldn’t stop herself. The memories of galloping on Chase, the wind, the thrill. The joy.
It all bubbled out of her with every stride Rex took.
“It’s you. You’ve always been a good rider.”
And why did that observation make her feel all Jell-O-y and mushy inside?
Grayson rode alongside her, let her explore the feel of Rex’s body moving beneath her. And yeah, maybe it was a little like riding a bike, because after five laps around the arena, she nudged Rex into a trot.
She bounced a little. Grabbed the horn.
It wasn’t the smoothest, but it was big and rhythmic, and the motion settled into her soul after several strides. She drew in a breath and let go of the horn.
How had she stayed away so long? How had she let fear rule her?
Grayson had let her ride ahead, setting the pace, and when she started a figure eight and passed him, the big, broad smile on his face made her feel giddy.
“See? That’s all there is to it,” Grayson said. “I knew you could do it.”
She slowed Rex back to a walk. Her cheeks hurt from smiling.
“You want to lope. I can see it in your eyes.” Grayson pulled up Maverick next to her and Rex.
“I don’t know.” She did, but then—she didn’t want to fall.
“If you can ride his trot, you can ride his lope. I know you know that.”
“Really?” Butterflies tickled her stomach. “I’m so rusty. I feel like I need a seat belt.”
“He’s a camp horse. Not your barrel horse. Trust him.”
The familiar buzz filled her veins, and before she could stop herself, she moved off with Rex and pressed her lips together, made a kissing sound, and nudged him with her outside leg into a lope.
