And then my gaze settles on Raven before me. She’s beautiful—sure. Sleek and dark with her mane tangled with water, but she’s also massive. Muscles shift beneath her coat like coiled rope. I swallow hard.
“I’ve never …” I clear my throat, trying again. “I’ve never been on a horse before.”
He doesn’t react right away. Just nods once, slow and thoughtful.
“Alright.”
I expect a tease, maybe a smirk. But he just steps forward, stroking the side of her neck, his movements calm, deliberate.
“She’s good,” he says. “I know she looks big and intimidating, but you can trust her.”
Raven breathes out, a soft huff that seems to echo his words.
Then he gives me a look, just a brief side glance, steady and unreadable. But something in it feels like more than reassurance. Like he’s not just talking about her.
I nod, but my fingers are clenched tightly at my sides. He notices.
“You don’t have to,” he adds, voice softer now. “We can wait it out if you’d rather.”
“No,” I say quickly. “I want to. I just … I’m nervous.”
Ford stays looking at me with rain dripping from the brim of his hat.
“You’ll be alright,” he says, voice low. “I’m right here with you.”
Then, he moves to stand behind me and his hands land on my waist, warm and firm. I flinch.
Memories flood back. Sam’s hands on me. The panic claws up my throat before I can stop it. And I must look as shaken as I feel, because Ford immediately lets go, holding his hands up like he’s approaching a wild animal.
“Just lifting you onto Raven, okay?” he asks, voice low, cautious … gentle.
I force myself to look at him. Really look at him. He’s not Sam. I swallow hard and give a small nod.
Ford doesn’t hesitate after that. He lifts me with ease, placing me onto Raven’s back before throwing himself up behind me. His arms cage me in as he grips the reins, the warmth of his body radiating through the cold dampness of my dress.
I stiffen instinctively.
"Relax," he murmurs, his breath warm against my cheek as he leans in. His deep voice vibrates through me, reverberating down my spine. I shudder, not from the rain, but from something else entirely.
One of his hands leaves the reins, trailing slowly down my arm in a gentle stroke, his touch firm but careful. Then he eases me back against him. I feelthe shift in him, his body softening, his breath steadying, as if he’s trying to calm me by calming himself.
The rhythmic beat of hooves against the soft earth soothes me, each stride sending a gentle tremor through my frame. I relish the way the rain patters against my skin, cool and cleansing, the scent of damp earth rising around us. The wind tugs at my hair, but I don’t mind. It’s wild, untamed, just like the moment itself.
Then Raven stumbles slightly, her hoof slipping on a patch of slick mud. I gasp, my body jolting sideways, panic flaring as I feel myself tip.
But Ford’s arm tightens instantly, his body shifting to absorb the movement. One strong hand clamps my waist, pulling me firmly back against him, anchoring us both. His other hand steadies the reins, his posture solid and sure. On impulse, my hand grips his thigh for balance, firm muscle beneath damp denim. I stay there a beat too long, breath caught, heart thudding.
“You okay?” he asks, voice low, breath brushing the shell of my ear.
I nod, heart racing.
“I thought I was going to fall.”
“You won’t,” he says, quiet but certain. “I won’t let you.”
His hand stays at my waist, fingers splayed, and I feel the slow, absent stroke of his thumb against my stomach. It’s subtle, almost unconscious, but it sends a ripple through me. I don’t think he realises he’s doing it. Or maybe he does, and he’s pretending not to.
I stay still, letting the moment stretch between us. The rain is soft, the horse steady beneath me. His touch sears, and I don’t pull away.
