Oh, this was a terrible idea.
"Ready?" I asked, trying to ignore the way every inch of him was touching every inch of me.
"Ready."
I kicked Bandit into a gallop, and we flew.
The north pasture blurred past us—fence posts, grass, sky—as Bandit ate up ground with powerful strides. Behind me, Beau's arms tightened, his thighs pressing against mine as he moved with the horse's rhythm. For someone who'd been terrified of riding three weeks ago, he was doing remarkably well. Not fighting it, just holding on, trusting me and Bandit to get us there.
"There!" he shouted over the wind, pointing. I spotted Phoenix near the fence line, pacing nervously, her eyes wild.
"She's spooked," I called back. "We need to approach slow or she'll bolt again."
I pulled Bandit to a trot, then a walk, talking softly to Phoenix as we got closer. "Easy, girl. It's just me. You're okay. Nobody's gonna hurt you."
Phoenix's ears flicked toward my voice, but she was still dancing, ready to run.
"What do you need?" Beau asked quietly, his voice steady despite his pounding heart—I could feel it against my back.
"Stay on Bandit. If she runs, we follow. If I can get close enough to grab her lead, I'll need you to hold Bandit steady while I dismount."
"Got it."
We inched closer. Ten feet. Five. Phoenix tossed her head, whinnying anxiously, and I kept talking—low, soothing, the same voice I’d used when she was a foal. "Good girl. That's my girl. We're just gonna take you home, okay? Back to your stall, nice and safe."
Close enough now. I reached out slowly, fingers extended toward her halter—
Phoenix reared, screaming, and bolted directly into the woods.
"Shit! Hold on!" I kicked Bandit hard, and we surged forward into the tree line.
Everything became chaos. Low branches whipped past, forcing us to duck—Beau's arms locked around me, pulling me tight against him as we navigated the terrain at breakneck speed. Phoenix crashed through underbrush ahead, panicked and fast, and I had to trust Bandit's instincts as much as my own.
"There's a creek ahead!" I yelled. "She'll have to slow down!"
"Or jump it!"
"She won't jump it! Too wide!"
We burst out of the trees just as Phoenix reached the creek bank. Sure enough, she skidded to a stop, flanks heaving, trapped between the water and the woods.
"Now," I breathed. "Slow and steady."
I dismounted carefully, keeping one hand on Bandit's neck. Behind me, Beau shifted, taking the reins, and I felt rather than saw him settle into the saddle, ready to back me up.
"Phoenix," I called softly, approaching on foot. "Hey, baby. You scared yourself pretty good, didn't you?"
The mare was trembling, sweat-dark and wild-eyed, but she didn't run. I kept talking, kept moving slow, until my hand touched her neck. She flinched but held still, and I slowly, carefully clipped the lead rope onto her halter.
"Got her."
"Thank Christ," Beau muttered.
Getting back was slower—Phoenix needed to calm down, and pushing her would only make things worse. I walked her while Beau rode Bandit alongside us, and by the time we reached the ranch, my legs were shaking from adrenaline comedown.
Pops met us at the barn, relief written all over his face. "She hurt?"
"Don't think so. Just scared." I handed Phoenix off to him. "I'll check her over once she's calmed down."
