“Leave it,” Jonah told me. “We’ll come spread the bedding after breakfast.”
“What will happen to the pellets?” I asked him as we made our way up to the main house.
“They spread. That entire bag will turn into at least twelve cubic feet of extra pine bedding. It has the consistency of sawdust, is soft on the horses, better for their allergies, and even increases the rate of urine absorbency, making it more sanitary. We use one to two bags a week, depending on how often the horses use the stalls.”
“Cool.”
“It is.”
After breakfast, we spread the bedding. I was excited to get on a horse because it’d been at least a year, but Jonah informed me we needed to groom them before. I’d never had to do that. Shamefully, the stable hands did all that for us. Jonah taught me how to properly groom a horse so that it didn’t chafe or get rubbed by any loose dirt during the workday. I asked him why they didn’t do that when they put them away and he told me they did it any time a horse is ridden and any time they’re put away.
“Damn, this is a lot of work,” I told him.
Jonah laughed. “We haven’t even started, greenhorn.”
Ethan and Cricket came to stand in front of my stall with their horses.
“Ready?” Ethan asked me.
I nodded.
Everyone mounted their horses and I followed suit, a little bit nervous, and very unaware of what I was supposed to do. I had that same sensation you get when you were new to a school and had no idea who anyone was in your lunch period. You’d take your lunch tray and sort of stand around for a moment looking for a good spot to take a seat, but the entire time you’re searching, all you can feel is everyone’s eyes on you. That’s a shitty feeling.
I sat there on my horse, completely clueless as to who I was supposed to follow. I heard a whistle to my left. It was Cricket.
“Yo, greenhorn, you’re with me today.”
My heart kicked into high gear. I trotted my horse to side by hers, relieved beyond belief. Not because it was Cricket. Because I had a destination. Yeah, that’s it. “What are we doing?” I asked her beautiful face, unable to keep myself from staring.
“We’re going to count head, get a reading on any stragglers in my section, direct them toward the herd again. We’re bringing the entire herd in closer to the ranch.”
“What for?”
“It makes it easier for us to prepare and react to births. We can keep a close eye on them.” She turned away from me. “Eugie, come.”
That old, cantankerous shepherd mix followed behind her.
We started for the pasture. The leather creaked and pulled beneath me. My horse’s tail swished back and forth, its breath fogged the air in front of me. It was freezing out, but I felt comfortable enough thanks to Cricket’s suggestions at the outfitters.
I followed her for a good fifteen minutes, mesmerized by her backside. She was so easy on a horse, not a single movement felt superfluous. She was born to be on that horse.
We were quiet, neither one of us knowing what to say to the other. It was awkward, yet I couldn’t complain, not with the view it afforded me.
Finally, we reached our destination, a rise near the base of Bitterroot Mountain, above Lake Gossamer. We emerged between a wide copse of trees dusted with snow and I took in the sight before me. My senses felt overwhelmed, blasted with an intense beauty. The lake was so blue it didn’t look natural and was so clear you could see all the way to the bottom. It was flanked by two sharp, rocky cliff sides that eventually graduated to peak after peak—a sea of daunting yet beautiful mountains. At the base stood hundred-foot pine trees. They littered the shoreline save for ten feet of varying gray rock peppered with a few red, yellow and green ones, smoothed by thousands of years’ worth of running water. Round and perfect, I absently noted that my mother would have paid tens of thousands for them to line her drive.
“Yes,” I said.
“I-I didn’t say anything,” Cricket responded, furrowing her brows in confusion.
“Yes, this is one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever been to. You were going to ask that, weren’t you? How could you not?” I gestured to the nature surrounding us. My gloved hand creaked against the leather as I laid it back on the saddle’s horn.
“Undeniably beautiful,” she conceded as I stared at her. No argument there.
I continued to stare at her and my gut began to ache again. All I could think was the scene, the moment, would have made for the perfect first kiss. And my God did I want to kiss her. My eyes drifted to her lips and she licked them, sending me spiraling.
“Stop that,” she said, biting them together, as if that would blunt her uneasiness.
“Stop what?” I asked, swallowing hard. This time wishing she was biting my lip instead of her own.
My lids felt so heavy, I very nearly closed them.
“That,” she answered. “Whatever it is that you’re doing. I-I...this was a bad idea,” she breathed the last part.
“What is?” I asked softly, my tongue feeling as heavy as my lids.
“Us pairing off. Ethan didn’t like it but Pop Pop insisted.”
I waited a moment before asking, “Why?”
“He thought I could teach you the best. That you would respond best to me.”
“Why would he think that, Cricket?”
“I’m not sure,” she lied.
We sat silent.
“I think you know why.”