Nash and Theo are riding horses just behind us, maybe twenty feet back and gaining. Nash is on a stunning chestnut mare with a white blaze down her face and three white socks on her legs. Theo is mounted on a powerful black stallion that looks like it stepped directly out of a dark fantasy novel—all muscle and attitude and barely contained power.
The three horses thunder across the open landscape in a race that seems equal parts competition and pure joy, their riders urging them faster with clicks and calls and subtle leg movements I don't fully understand but can feel the effects of.
I can hear Nash whooping behind us—loud and joyful and completely uninhibited. I can hear Theo's deep laugh carried on the wind, rich and genuine in a way I'm learning is rare for him. The sounds make something warm and bright bloom in my chest despite the cold air rushing past and stealing heat from my skin.
They're happy. We're all happy.
When was the last time I felt this kind of pure, uncomplicated happiness? When was the last time I wasn't worried about saying the wrong thing or being too much or not being enough?
I can't remember. Maybe never.
"You doing okay up there?" Grayson's voice rumbles against my back, loud enough to be heard over the pounding hooves and rushing wind. The vibration travels through me, grounding me even as we fly across the landscape.
I squeal again in pure glee, unable to form actual coherent words yet. My vocabulary has been reduced to excited sounds. My hands are gripping the front of the saddle so hard my knuckles are white and probably leaving indentations in my palms, but I wouldn't let go for anything in the world.
"Can we go faster?" Grayson asks, and I can hear the amusement coloring his tone, can practically hear his smile.
I finally find my voice, breathless and excited and probably way too loud.
"Faster? HELL YES! Faster! As fast as she can go!"
I feel his chest vibrate with laughter against my back. Then he makes a clicking sound with his tongue—sharp and clear—and gives Snowfall some subtle signal with his legs that I don't understand but she clearly does, and somehow—impossibly—we go even faster.
The landscape blurs into streaks of color. Fields of frost-covered grass rush past on both sides like we're traveling through a tunnel. Bare trees with twisted, skeletal branches frame our path like ancient guardians watching our race. The sky above is a watercolor painting of oranges and pinks and purples and deep blues as the sun begins its slow descent toward the horizon, creating that magical hour photographers call golden hour.
The light catches on Snowfall's white coat, making her glow like something ethereal.
Everything feels magical, surreal, and perfect.
My phone is in my jacket pocket, pressing against my hip like it's trying to remind me of its existence. An idea strikes mewith sudden brilliance—the kind of idea that's either genius or completely ridiculous.
This is too perfect not to share. This moment, this feeling, this experience. My followers would absolutely lose their collective minds seeing this. The kind of content people dream about.
Real, authentic, thrilling.
I carefully release one hand from the saddle—immediately second-guessing this decision when Snowfall makes a slight turn—and reach for my phone with shaking fingers.
"Think I can go live?" I shout over the wind.
Grayson chuckles, the sound rich and warm.
"You can try. At least if you drop this phone, it's not the brand new one you just got."
I laugh despite my nervousness.
"I won't drop it! I have an iron grip!"
"I'd find it for you either way if you did drop it," he says reassuringly, his arm tightening slightly around my waist. "So never fear. Just enjoy yourself. This is supposed to be fun."
I manage to unlock my phone with one hand—a feat that requires more coordination than I thought possible while racing across a field on horseback—and open Instagram.
My fingers fumble slightly but I hit the live button.
The stream starts and I watch the viewer count jump immediately.
Ten people. Twenty. Fifty. One hundred.
"HI GUYS!" I shout into the phone, trying to be heard over the wind. "I'M ON A HORSE! AN ACTUAL REAL HORSE!"
