“She’s of good stock,” Brandon said. “Did you want to try a trot or canter?”
He was probably itching to take off. “Why don’t you go ahead, check the path and come back for me?”
“Will you be OK on your own for a few minutes?”
She nodded, faking her confidence. “It’s not like you can lose me.” The flat land spread out for miles, with only the small sand dunes behind her interrupting the view.
“All right.” He nudged his horse into a trot and then into a slow canter, dust floating in the air behind him. He rode well, sitting comfortably in the saddle like he was born to it, which, she supposed, he was.
Starlight tossed her head, snagging Amy’s attention and then broke into a trot. Amy tensed, bouncing up and down, pulling on the reins. “Whoa.” The horse ignored her and instead increased her pace, breaking into a canter as if trying to catch Brandon. Amy shrieked and grabbed the front of the saddle, gripping hard with her legs. Ahead, Brandon hadn’t noticed her predicament.
The wind and the land rushed by as the horse’s hooves set a rhythmic drumming on the ground. What if she stepped in a rabbit hole or something? Amy’s heart pounded a much faster beat than the hooves.
The most important rule is not to panic.Bill’s words echoed in her head.
Easier said than done. She loosened her grip on the saddle. The horse wanted to catch up with Brandon. Maybe Amy should let her. She forced herself to relax her clenched thighs and feel the rhythm of the canter, sitting into it rather than bouncing all over the place. It was rocking, kind of soothing if she let herself relax.
Brandon slowed to a trot and he glanced behind. Amy hoped Starlight would stop when they got near. Brandon waited for them to catch up and his expression morphed from a smile to concern when he realised she wasn’t in control. About ten metres out, Starlight slowed, breaking into a jolting trot which jerked Amy about before coming to an abrupt stop in front of Brandon.
Amy’s breath whooshed out of her and her hands shook on the reins.
“Are you all right?”
She nodded. Next time she’d remember to wear a sports bra. “Starlight decided she didn’t want to be left behind.” She swallowed to get the tremor out of her voice.
Brandon swore and the joy she’d seen in him vanished. “I’m sorry, Amy.”
“Don’t be. I managed OK.” She smiled, relieved it was over.
“No, I shouldn’t have brought you out here. I don’t know these horses. I should have asked Georgie how they’d react.”
She didn’t want him beating himself up about it, so she reached over and squeezed his hand. “It’s fine, really. No harm done. I got used to it at the end.” She wanted to head up to the ridge and they were already halfway there. “Shall we continue?”
“Only if you’re certain. I’m happy to go back as well.” His concern was sweet and appreciated. Her father would have made her continue to ensure she improved.
“I won’t race you,” she said with a grin, “but I’d like to go to the top. The view is spectacular from there.”
“It is.” He nudged his horse back into a walk and Amy followed.
She wanted answers to questions like why he left, and what he would do with the station now he owned it, but they weren’t questions she could ask. They wouldn’t lead to befriending him. She should speak of something a little more light-hearted, but her mind came up blank.
Brandon broke the silence. “You must have lived in a lot of places.”
She stiffened and then sighed. The best way to get someone to trust her was to let them in, share things with them. “Yeah, I travelled east first, crossing the Nullarbor eventually and exploring the east coast, but the west called me back.”
“Where was your favourite?”
“Here. There’s something about the landscape, the space, the air, the dirt so red you’d swear it was fake, that gets to me.”
Respect shone on his face. “I understand.”
She didn’t know how he stayed away for so long. If Darcy could no longer hire her, she’d hunt high and low to find another job somewhere close by. It was the perfect segue. “Will you move back now that you own the station?”
His expression closed down. “I don’t know.”
Her own selfish fear about her job made her want to press him, so she changed the subject. “Is there a technique to being comfortable when cantering?”
He seemed surprised by the change of subject. “Not really. You need to sit into it, relax.” He shifted in his saddle as if making himself comfortable.
