“I like to ride.”
A sly smile twitched Janet’s cheek as her gaze flicked between me and Red. The mare stood a few paces away, tossing her head, weighing the risks versus the possibility of more sugar cubes.
“Is it the horse’s bare back that puts you off?”
I straightened, stretching as tall as my second-grade body could get. “I’ve ridden bareback.”
“All you need to do is hold her mane. They dinnae feel it, you know.”
“I know about horses.”
She laughed, soft and mocking. “You’re scared then.”
It felt like a taunt.
And oh, I knew better. Climbing the fence and crawling onto the back of a skittish horse, without even a halter, was beyond reckless. But how I wanted my mother’s attention. Her praise.
Maybe Janet knew how stupid it would be. She sure hadn’t acted like it.
Before I knew it, I’d emptied the last crumbs of sugar from my pockets and was straddling the fence, beckoning Red closer. As she turned her head toward me, I slung an arm around her neck and leaped—landing hard, sprawling like a spider across her back.
She exploded into a gallop. Naturally.
Her withers punched into my chin, slamming my teeth together. I tangled my fingers in her mane, held on for a few desperate yards before she launched me.
By the time I rolled to a stop in the dirt, I had two chipped teeth, a broken pinky, and a shattered collarbone. I didn’t cry. Not until I saw Red staring at me—wild-eyed, nostrils flaring—like she didn’t know me anymore.
It was the neighbor lady who found me. I told myself my mother had run for help. Poppa refused to discuss it, though, so I never knew for sure.
From that day on, Red was terrified of me. And I was terrified of her. Soon, it became a generalized fear of all horses. Bareback ones in particular.
“Och, Rosie-love, your bonnie face has gone pale as ash.” The hesitant touch of Callum’s hand on my shoulderjars me back to the present. “Tell me, why can you nae ride?”
“Well…” I wrack my brain for a reasonable excuse, grasping for something that doesn’t sound completely pathetic. “There’s no saddle.”
“Is that all?” His smile is immediate, relieved. “Saddles are for the Campbells. Servants get saddleblankets. I made sure to pick a clean one. Soft as a pillow. Shut your eyes, and you’ll believe you’ve landed on a royal throne.”
He pats the horse again, proudly. “Come, then.” He waits. Lifts his brows in an encouraging grin.
Callum is truly the most patient person I’ve ever met. Maybe when you don’t have a phone buzzing in your pocket all day, you learn how to wait.
“Fine,” I finally confess. “I’m scared, okay? Of riding. I can’t.”
“You?” he blurts. “The lass who’s braw as a badger is afraid of ponies?”
I scrunch up my face, fighting the sting in my eyes. “It’s…my mother…once, she…”
His expression falls. “I’m a fool.”
He looks so stricken, a trembly chuckle escapes me. “No, it’s me. It’s embarrassing. It’s really not such a big deal.” I scrub my face and take a deep breath. “When I was little, I fell and hurt myself pretty badly, and I haven’t ridden since.”
Callum doesn’t ask what Janet has to do with it, and I’m grateful. He simply frowns and makes a thoughtfulhmmsound as he idly strokes the animal.
His eyes brighten like he’s come to a decision. He takes the pony’s head in his hands, whispering something into her flicking ear. When he pulls back, he gives me a definitive nod. “It’s all settled.”
I let out a short, nervous laugh. “What was that about?”
“I had to tell her what’s what,” he says casually.
