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He wasn’t going to be able to mount on Strawberry’s left because he couldn’t push off his throbbing left foot. Well, that was stupid. “Uh, I’m really sorry, but I just realized I can’t mount from this side.”
“I know.” They looked up at him, but the hat still hid everything but the chin. A fairly observant or smart person; they’d figured out the mounting issue before he did. Most people would have laughed. Before he could say anything more, they spoke. “Before you get on the horse, do you want me to splint and wrap that ankle? I have a medical kit.”
Since he stood upright, it had thumped painfully. With the swelling it had undoubtedly done, the boot might be enough to hold it in place, but maybe not; cowboy boots were kind of loose. “It would probably be smart of me to take you up on that offer. Thank you.”
The person led Strawberry over to the side of the rock and tied her reins to the tree, far away enough that Strawberry couldn’t kick either one of them. Whoever they were, they were a smart cookie. They walked back to the backpack and pulled out a large, military-looking bag. From their stride, he was ninety percent sure his rescuer was a woman. A few feet away from the rock, she put the kit down and opened it. “Are you armed?”
Interesting question. “No, you’ve got my rifle. I’ve got a multitool on my belt if that counts.”
“Please leave it in the holster and sit.”
A very cautious individual; paranoid, even. He’d do his best not to rouse any suspicion or fears. “Sure. I’m Tom, Tom Borde.” He carefully lowered himself to sit on top of the rock. “Will you tell me your name, please? I’d like to know who to thank.”
“Wiz.”
“Wiz? As in short for Wizard?” What an odd name; it must be a nickname. Perhaps earned in video games or D&D? It didn’t help him decide on a pronoun.
“Yes.” They pulled out a large pair of shears, an Ace bandage, and a rectangular formable splint and pulled on nitrile gloves.
Wow, they were prepared. “It’s nice to meet you, Wiz. Thanks for rescuing me.”
“You’re welcome. Do you think it’s sprained or broken?”
“I don’t know for sure, but I couldn’t put much weight on it, and I figured I wasn’t going to try. Someone would come looking for me sooner or later.” If Strawberry was still missing by supper time, Dad would ride out to look. Probably.
They grabbed the shears and slowly moved toward him. He kept his hands flat on his thighs in plain view, trying not to make the person more nervous. Small, delicate fingers cased in dark blue grasped the bottom of his left pants leg, then sliced straight to his knee. He bit back his protest; jeans were cheap in comparison to the donation he’d owe Search and Rescue if they got called out. After pulling the material away, a whole-body sigh followed, the first expression of emotion he’d seen. “I’m guessing these are expensive.” A gloved finger tapped his boot.
The tiny hands were either a woman’s or a boy too young to be out here on his own, armed like that. Almost certainly a woman. “Yes, they are.” He hadn’t planned on riding when he got dressed. He should have changed, but he’d just wanted to get away from the house and his dad before he said something he couldn’t unsay.
Wiz grasped the boot at the heel and toe. “I can yank it off if there hasn’t been too much swelling, but that could damage your ankle more. Or I can cut it like I did your jeans.”
“You didn’t ask about the jeans.” He smirked.
Another head tilt. “Did you want to ride in your underwear?”
He sputtered a laugh. “No, I guess not. You’re smarter than me by a long shot.” She didn’t say a thing or laugh, but his certainty grew. “Okay. I don’t think it’s broken, and I raised it while I was resting, so it shouldn’t be too swollen. Try yanking first, please.”
“Okay.” Wiz sounded a little skeptical. She grabbed his boot and yanked, nearly pulling him off the rock, but the boot came off.
He gritted his teeth to hold back a scream. “Holy hanna that hurt.” Wiz put the boot down and waited. He slowed his panting, trying to control the pain. “I know, my own fault. Please continue.”
Wiz quickly shaped the thin, foam-coated aluminum splint into an “L” shape, then gently raised his calf and placed it on the splint. Putting a small rock under the splint near the top, she wrapped it with the Ace bandage.
“Tell me if it feels too tight.” She wriggled a finger under a couple of the wraps, testing it.
Tom unclenched his jaw. She was trying to be gentle, but every movement was painful. “It’s okay. It needs to be tight because it will be well below my heart.” In a stirrup, his ankle would swell fast, but better than trying to hobble on a steep, rocky trail.
Wiz finished the wrapping and fastened it. “Still okay?”
Grimacing, he nodded. “Yeah, sure. Shall we see if I can mount now? You’ll have to hold Strawberry firmly, if you don’t mind, please.”
She picked up his boot and jammed it into his open saddle bag. The shaft stuck out, but she buckled it tight. Then she led Strawberry to him, with her right side facing. She stood at Strawberry’s head, and gripped the reins behind the bit, her other hand on the cheek strap. For someone who knew little about horses, she was doing everything right.
“Okay, Strawberry, I know you’re probably not gonna like this but...” he said in a soft voice as he slid over to her. He leaned over and grabbed the saddle horn. “Here we go, hold tight.” He pushed up on his right leg and pulled his body across the saddle, his left leg swinging high behind him. He plopped into the saddle, putting his right foot in the stirrup. When Strawberry sidled, Wiz pulled her head down.
He maneuvered his bad foot into the left stirrup. He’d better hope Strawberry didn’t try anything because his splinted foot could slip through, hanging up in the stirrup, and she’d drag him to death or break his ankle completely or both. He took a deep breath and, feeling like a greenhorn, didn’t let go of the saddle horn. Better to look ridiculous but give himself a chance to recover if—when—Strawberry shied. “Okay. Thanks, Wiz. I really appreciate the save.”
She nodded. “I’m not sure it’s safe for you to ride like that by yourself. Which way are you going?”
