Wren nods. “In my pocket.”
“Come on, let’s take you for a ride.”
We trudge through the snow, hand-in-hand, until we get to the oval paddock at the center of Atom’s ranch. I try not to overthink why I keep hold of Wren, beyond it feeling…reassuring…and being reluctant to let go when I need to tie Blaze to the fence while I open the gate. I lead him in. Wren follows.
“Now that I have to get up on him, I realize how tall he is,” Wren says. “I guess this isn’t like riding a bike where your feet touch the ground.”
I laugh. “Definitely not. I mean, you’d need to ride a miniature pony to pull that off. Come here.”
Wren does as I ask, and I can see the trepidation in their eyes as they gingerly step closer.
“Don’t give me thatI’m scaredcrap when you were just holding on to him and hugging him for dear life. Put your gloves on then put your hands here.”
I help Wren get a hold properly and get their foot in the stirrups. “Are you sure about this?” they ask.
“I’m gonna grab hold of you to help you get up and over with this other leg. On three. One…two…three…”
Wren looks shocked as hell when they end up on top of the horse. “Oh my God. I’m riding a horse.”
I loop the long length of rope around my hand. “Technically, you’re sitting on a horse. To be riding, you’d have to be moving.”
“Shut up.”
I bite back a grin. “C’mon, Blaze. Let’s impress Wren.”
We start off slow, and I have to walk real close to Blaze, keeping the rope short, because this boy wants to be ridden.
Hard.
And I kinda feel his pain.
For all his fussing around with thick seat pads and diva behavior when he sees a saddle, once it’s on, he wants to ride like the wind.
“Easy, boy,” I say when he tugs hard at the rope.
“Oh my God, look.NowI’m riding.”
Wren’s leaning forward way too far. “Sit up straight, like there’s a string pulling you up from the top of your head.”
Carefully, Wren does as I ask. “Is this better?”
I nod. “And remember, Blaze can feel every shift in weight, so confidence and calmness matter. You dig a knee into him, he’s gonna turn.”
I see their thighs relax a little and find myself grappling with the same feelings I’ve had since Wren and I met. A tug at something sexual. And I’m thinking thoughts that go against everything Willa told me about being respectful, because I’m guilty of wondering what Wren looks like naked, and whether I’d like exploring the urges I’m feeling with them.
Blaze glances at me, as if to ask me if this is all there is today. I pat his muzzle. “Sorry, bud. We gotta take it slow with the newbies.”
I swear he rolls his eyes in disgust.
I look down at the snow, deep enough that the hem of my jeans is getting wet. Soon, this whole paddock will be unusable. The cattle will be moved inside until spring.
Fucking hate this time of year.
Mom tells me every year that we need the darkness. That it’s only when a plant goes back inside itself, disappearing underground, that it can do the work to form the strongest possible roots before it blooms again the following spring.
I get the analogy.
But it doesn’t make being truck-bound or dealing with fewer hours of daylight any more fun.
