“Do you think there’s Wi-Fi in nature?” Gavin asks me under his breath, still watching me a little too closely. I start a little, because I didn’t realize how close he had gotten to me.
“Probably not,” I murmur back. “Is it too late to genetically modify a horse to make it a hotspot?”
“Probably too late for us. But a great idea for a niche business in the future.”
“Don’t steal the idea. I know that’s how you usually operate but control yourself.”
But threatening Gavin won’t get me a sale, so I smile it off when Harrison looks our way and hope I don’t crack my head open falling off this horse.
“Follow me.” Harrison leads us out of the front of the house and along the side until we get to stables. And I say they’re stables only because of the smell, because the exterior looks like it’s a miniature version of the house, with the same elegant column and brick design.
And by miniature version, I mean miniature for this crowd, but a regular-size house for a normal human.
When we enter the building, my eyes are immediately drawn to the rows of stalls along the sides, all containing large horses.
Maybe unnaturally large? How big are these things supposed to be anyway? These seemtoolarge.
My heart starts pounding, and fight or flight kicks in, making me want to run far away from the potential threat.
Harrison starts assigning the horses to us one by one and I cross my fingers that Harrison gives me that old pony Naomi mentioned.
“Priya, you can have my favorite mount, Daisy. She’s been with me the longest, so she’s not the most energetic, but she’ll get you where you need to go. Gavin, you can have Mister Ed, who’s been with me almost as long.”
I throw a grateful look at Naomi, who must have put a good word in. “That sounds perfect.” My only other horseback riding experiences are a birthday party with a pony in fifth grade and a handful of rides with clients since then. Each one stressful since it happens so infrequently.
I get up on Daisy with help from the stable staff, and then direct my horse slowly to the others.
“Everyone who wants to trot can leave first, and if you don’t feel comfortable with that, you can follow Jim at a slower pace,” Harrison says while pacing back and forth on his horse, like staying still is too much for him and the horse.
“Jim? Where’s Jim?” I ask, looking around for my savior.
A grizzled older man raises his hand and I direct my horse carefully over to him. Gavin comes up behind me, and I give him a suspicious look over my shoulder. Knowing him, he’ll do something that makes Daisy lose it and throw me. Embarrassing me in front of the entire party, and especially Harrison.
He does look good on a horse though. Like he’s in an ad for expensive cologne. I can’t believe I kissed all of that last night...half because he’s so model attractive, and half because I don’t want to find him attractive or his kisses enjoyable.
But enjoyable as it was, it won’t be happening again.
“You’re hanging with the slowpokes?” I look around, hoping someone joins us so it’s not a romantic horse ride with Gavin and Jim, but the universe doesn’t want to help me out here.
“Yeah. It’s been a while so I shouldn’t push it. I’m going to have a big show to put on soon.” He indicates the house behind him, leaving no doubt as to who he thinks will be winning this sale.
“I agree. You should be healthy to come seemedo this show. Spoiler alert: I’m going to be amazing,” I say, half my mind on not agitating this horse and the other half on sassing Gavin. Luckily, it’s second nature to me, so I only really need half my brain to do the task.
The rest of the riders race ahead and Jim holds us back until they get out of range. Then we slowly make our way to the picnic site, while Jim keeps an eagle eye on us.
“How long have you been in this area?” I ask Jim to distract myself from the fact that my life is in the hoofs of a majestic animal that may or may not resent humans. I don’t know how well Harrison treats his horses.
“Born and raised here. My dad is part of the historic society of Huntington.”
“Oh?” I perk up at the thought of history. “Do they have a museum or exhibition space?”
“They do, in town. I can tell you a little about the area, if you’d like?”
“I’d love that.” Because I always say yes to history, and because it’ll be a great distraction from my fears of riding.
Jim explains that in the 1890s, robber barons and other rich types built mansions and fake castles in the area, sometimes bringing entire rooms and structures from Europe so they could pretend to be aristocrats of old, but geographically in America. They used any style that appealed to them, making a unique mix of Roman, Mediterranean, English Tudor, French, Gothic, Georgian and Spanish homes on Long Island.
After World War II, three hundred of the five hundred mansions were destroyed or turned into suburbs as people lost fortunes or decided the upkeep was too expensive. But the Richmonds were lucky, or smart, or a little of both, and they managed to hold on to their fortunes and their property.
