Kes clamped strong hands on my shoulders, staring deep into my eyes. “She’s yours. She responds to you more than she does with me. You’re meant to have her, Nila.”
Gratefulness and overwhelming amazement filled me. “I—I don’t know what to say.”
Kes smiled. “Say nothing. It’s already done.” Squeezing my shoulders, he stepped back. “You’re the proud new owner of a dapple grey by the name of Warriors Don’t Cry.” Patting Moth on the neck, he grinned. “I’ll find the pedigree papers later, so you can keep them safe, but for now...let’s go for a ride.”
My eyes bugged out of my head. “I’ve never been on a horse before.”
Not counting with Jethro when he carted me back on Wings, of course.
Kes ignored me, heading toward the tack room. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll show you.”
* * * * *
An hour later, I sat atop my first ever horse.
I’m freaking.
I’m terrified.
I’m beyond exhilarated.
I couldn’t remember the last time something affected me so piercingly.
Even Jethro?
Well, apart from him.
It seemed the older I grew and more jaded by life I became, the more I lost the heightened extremes of newness. No longer enjoying the catapulting happiness or devastating lowness. These days my highs and lows were more hills and valleys rather than mountains and chasms.
But looking down and seeing the ground far below, feeling the unyieldingmetal stirrups beneath my borrowed boots, and the leather reins in my hands, I’d never been more alive. More joyous.
This was Christmas on crack.
This was birthdays all in one.
I own her.
I own this majestic animal.
I couldn’t sit still with excitement. Leaning forward, I patted Moth’s beautiful grey neck. From up here, I had full view between her ears at the rolling fields and sweeping dark forest.
Kes led his mount from the stables and swung his leg over an inky black horse. Its coat gleamed in the autumn gloom, its velveteen nostrils flaring with huge gusts of breath.
Before Kes could get his seat, the horse skittered sideways with a clatter of hooves.
“Whoa, you damn animal.” He jerked the reins, forcing the horse to submit.
“Who’s that?” I asked, clutching my own reins as Moth tossed her head at the fiery beast prancing beside her. Her flanks rippled with indignation.
Kes’s face pinched in concentration. He swatted the horse with his whip as it bucked and nickered. The horse’s ears flattened, eyes rolling in a mixture of hell-bound fury and eagerness.
“This is Black Plague. He’s technically my father’s horse, but he’s in-between purse races right now. He always gets like this if he isn’t trained every day.” He stroked the pitch-black pelt. “Don’t you, boy?”
“Rather you than me.”
“Plague definitely isn’t for beginners.” Raising his eyebrow, Kes pointed at my helmet. “Check that it’s on tight. I’m not a conventional teacher and need to make sure you’re protected.”
I laughed, forcing a finger beneath the strap below my chin, showing him that if it were any tighter, I’d choke. I also waved at the bracing corset he’d made me wear, along with the borrowed jodhpurs and boots. “Completely protected.”
