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Ingrid was in the corral cleaning up the supplies from horse camp. The days were rushing by, each day filled with games and activities, and most recently, riding horses inside the corral. That day they had played “pass the egg,” where teams passed an egg on a large spoon from one rider to the next as they headed toward the finish line. Anyone who dropped their egg would have to start over.
Ingrid didn't want them to actually race, no trotting or galloping or getting the horses too pumped up, so she set the rules that the team that didn't drop a single egg came in first, second place dropped the next least amount, and on and on. If no one on the team leaned over too far and fell off their horse—she had driven this point home with each player at least ten times—do not lean over too far—there were extra bonus points.
The game had been a success. Two teams tied for the win, accompanied by cheers. Every team won some type of award, there were no tears, only smiles and laughter. Whew!
After the parents had rounded up their kiddos, Ingrid collected all the spoons to take back to the kitchen. She shoveled up the eggs that had dropped on the ground so they wouldn’t stink in a few days.
She had just gotten all the eggs mixed in with dirt and manure into a couple of large buckets when Ryder came out of the tack house. He’d been on a ride all day with a group of five and had just finished putting the last of the gear away.
He looked good. Deliciously good, the senior class president of an all-girl Catholic school thought scandalously. His hair had grown out a bit since his arrival and, after a long day of riding, it was mussed in an adorable yet manly way. He seemed to have bulked up a bit, too, his biceps straining against his shirt. She steeled herself to talk to him. They hadn’t had a conversation since the day she had declared her love for him. Oh, God, could she manage to face him now? She had no choice.
“Excuse me, Ryder,” she called in a shaky voice.
He glanced up and veered from his path to the dining room toward her. She couldn’t tell if he looked wary or amused.
“Yo,” he said as he neared.
“Tomorrow’s the last day of horse camp, and I’m taking the kids on a trail ride. We’re going through the woods for a mile or so, until the trail comes out on the road, then we’ll turn around and come back. But I’m kind of nervous because there’s so many of them and only Greta and me.”
He waited expectantly.
She cleared her throat and powered on. “I, uh, I had Greta check with Kathy about your schedule, and since you don’t have any trail rides tomorrow, I was, uh, wondering if you would be the sweeper for the kids’ ride. I’ll go first, I’ll stick Greta somewhere in the middle, and was hoping you could be ride in back to keep an eye on everything.”
“Sure. What time do you want me here?”
“How about nine thirty?”
“Sounds good. See you in the morning.” He turned and headed toward the dining room, eager to get away, she thought miserably.
Oh, God, she felt like such a leper. So stupid. How stupid could one human being be? She was the poster child of stupid. She sighed, grateful that he would be there to keep an eye on all the little critters, then picked up the two buckets and headed toward a dumpster that was carefully hidden from view.
The trail ride was the culminating activity on the last day of horse camp. It had gone so fast. Greta showed up as soon as breakfast service finished. “Guess what?” She asked, breathing hard since she had jogged down the path from kitchen to corral.
Ingrid had the horses lined up and tied to the corral fence and was returning from the tack shed with an armful of wool blankets to begin saddling them up. “What?” She puffed, heaving the blankets to the top fence rail then peeling of the top one and placing it on the nearest horse.
“There’s a new guy at the Ranch. All by himself!”
Ingrid hadn’t seen her friend look this excited since Rick Prescott, the captain of the soccer team at the prestigious Bush School, had invited her to the movies. “Do tell,” she said as she pulled off the next blanket and headed for another horse.
“He’s hiking the Pacific Crest Trail all by himself. I mean it’s something like two thousand miles, he told me. He’s from Austria and has the cutest accent. He’s kind of skinny ’cause he’s been hiking every day since April. Can you imagine? And he kind of smelled like the trail when he first got here. He was so hungry he polished off two gigantic sandwiches I made him plus chips and potato salad and about five cookies. I got him all set up in his room—he reserved it a year ahead of time but he just got one of the little cabins with no bathroom so I showed him the big showers in the main building and thank God he showered right away and smelled way better.”
Ingrid hadn’t heard her friend talk this much since the movie date with Prescott. Not that Greta was a shrinking violet, she certainly wasn’t, but this monologue was unexpected. “What’s his name?”
“Otto,” Greta gushed. “Isn’t that cute? Can you imagine hiking all by yourself for two thousand miles? I haven’t even hiked a mile since we’ve been here. He said he’d take me for a few little hikes while he was here. He’s staying for a few days. I hope I can get away.”
Ingrid walked over and gave her friend a hug. “Today’s the last day of horse camp. Maybe Kathy will give you some time off.”
Greta’s face fell. “Fat chance.”
Ingrid knew Greta was right. This time of year, the odds of getting a day off were slim, but possible. They were only supposed to work six days a week. She felt happy that someone had showed up to give Greta a chance at some fun instead of all work, but there wouldn’t be much time for fun.
Ryder came up the trail, a little early. “Good morning, ladies.”
“Morning,” Ingrid murmured.
“Hey, Ryder,” Greta said with enthusiasm.
“Looks like I’m going to be joining you today on your first trail ride with the munchkins,” Ryder said good-naturedly.
Greta’s head snapped up at him, then to Ingrid. “You are? There’s going to be three of us with the kids?”
“I thought it would be a good idea,” Ingrid said. “Safety first.”
Greta studied Ingrid, then reached out and took her friend’s hand. “Since Ryder’s here, do you think, would you mind, could I take the day off? Please?”
Ingrid made herself look Ryder in the eye, into his gorgeous honey-colored eyes speckled with darker flecks. “Greta would like to go for a hike today with Otto. How would you feel about just the two of us with thirteen kids?”
“The question is, horse camp leader,” Ryder answered, “how do you feel about it?”
Was he making fun of her? She couldn’t tell. She glanced at Greta, whose eyes were full of childlike hope. How could she deny her friend a day of fun after months of hard work? She and Ryder should be able to handle the kids and horses. She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding. “We’ll be fine. Greta. You’re free. Go enjoy.”
Greta squealed and kissed Ingrid on the cheek. “Thank you. Thank you both. I better go find Otto before he starts without me.” And she was off in a flash.
Ryder looked at Ingrid, his face a question mark. “Otto?”
“An Austrian hiker, it seems. I’m a little behind. Would you mind helping me saddle the horses?”
When the kids arrived and the last parent left, Ingrid gathered them all together and told them they were going on the camp finale. A trail ride. There was a group scream of delight, which caused the horses to shift nervously, a few rolling their gigantic eyes until the white showed, on high alert, as they watched the churning group of excited children.
“Quiet voices around the horses,” Ingrid reminded them gently. The children settled down, glancing lovingly toward their new horse friends. And today we have a new...” what should she call Ryder. He was more than a helper. “A new team leader. Kids, meet Ryder.”
Ryder had been standing on the far side of the corral. He walked around the horses and up to the kids. “Hello, boys and girls.”
There was no shyness in this group. All of them, every single one, mobbed Ryder as if it was 1964 and one of the Beatles had just arrived by limousine. There was squealing, there was reaching out to touch him. A man in their midst. They loved their male teachers, rarities in the early elementary grades, and they loved this man.
Ryder looked surprised, then he laughed, flashing that heart-stopping smile of perfect white teeth. He reached down to shake every single kid’s hand and greet them. He was a natural with children, and Ingrid’s heart melted just a little bit more.
“You’ve probably seen Ryder around here. He’s the leader of horse rides, and today he’s going to go on a ride with us.”
The children jumped up and down, then glanced at the nervous horses and slowed their fawning over Ryder. They turned to look at her, little faces turned up in expectation, waiting for instructions.
“Okay, horsewomen and horsemen.” The kids giggled. “The word for the day is,” she left a long, dramatic pause, “calm.” She scrutinized each kid, looking pointedly at each one, trying her best to wear a serene expression. “We all need to be calm, so our horse friends stay calm. When we ride, remember, no screaming, no jumping around, just lots of...” She held a hand up to her ear.
“Calm,” they all recited in unison.
“Excellent. Mr. Ryder, shall we help our riders mount their horses?”
Ryder was looking at her with a half-smile and, could it be? Admiration?
“Absolutely, Ms. Ingrid. Let’s mount up.”
One by one, the children received a boost up, studiously putting their left foot in the left stirrup and swinging their short little legs over the saddle. Miraculously, everyone was quiet, the horses stood placid, accepting the light riders with what Ingrid assumed was a modicum of appreciation—way better than lugging around a two-hundred pounder.
Ryder mounted Boone, and Ingrid Bella, and off they went at a sedate and sensible pace.
When they approached the mile marker, where the trail intersected with Stehekin Valley Road, the calm veneer of the morning began to crack. Matilda, a little girl three horses ahead of Ryder, proudly sported a new, long-sleeved western shirt, pink with little teepees on it and pearl snaps all the way up the front and on the cuffs. She approached a fir tree with a branch reaching onto the trail. All the other riders had leaned away from the branch, but Matilda reached out to caress it as she passed. The end of the branch hooked on Matilda’s pink teepee shirt cuff, and it wouldn’t let it go. Her little arm went back as far as it could go until she was pulled out of the saddle and hit the ground.
There was a moment of utter silence as the two girls riding behind Matilda watched in horror. Then the wailing began. The first tears of horse camp spilled copiously in the next five minutes.
Ingrid snapped around to see what happened. Ryder was off his horse, looped the reins around a nearby tree branch and hurried to Matilda’s side. A murmur went up among the group. What happened? Is someone hurt? It’s Matilda. Is she okay?
Ingrid dismounted, grabbed the first aid kit out of her pack and started down the line. She peered up at each scared face that gawked at her as she went. “Everything is fine. Remember today’s word is calm. Sit tight, this will only take a minute. Matilda is just fine.” Please God, she prayed internally as she reassured the children, let Matilda be fine.
By the time she arrived, Ryder had his arm around Matilda and was talking to her in a low voice. She was holding her knee where her jeans were torn.
Ingrid squatted beside her. “Hey there, Matilda,” she greeted her. “Look how brave you are.” She brushed away the tears from the little girl’s flushed cheeks. “Let’s take a look at that knee, shall we?”
Under the pretense of brushing some dirt and leaves off Matilda’s jeans, she felt Matilda’s leg and asked Ryder in a quiet voice. “Did you hear anything unusual? A snapping sound?”
Ryder shook his head. “No, and I already checked. It looks like little Matilda here has some mighty fine strong bones.”
The next problem was how to clean and dress the wound under Matilda’s jeans. “Okay, Mr. Ryder. Matilda and I need to use the great outdoor boudoir to take care of this scrape. Would you mind checking on all the other riders and not looking our way until I give the all-clear?”
Ryder stood. “On my way.”
In a few minutes the bandage and jeans were in place. “What an adventure you’ve had today,” Ingrid said. “You shook hands with a tree.”
Matilda gave a tremulous smile. “I’m a brave girl.”
“Oh, so very brave,” Ingrid agreed. “Shall we all continue the ride?”
Matilda nodded. Ingrid lifted Matilda back into the saddle and headed back to Bella, passing Ryder on the way.
“All clear. Thanks.”
The rest of the ride went smooth as butter, and an hour later, after they were all back in the corral, kids chatting away happily, Ingrid ran to the tack shed and came back with a box. “Okay riders, line up,” she called out. “Mr. Ryder, will you assist?”
Ryder raised his eyebrows but walked to her side. She handed him the box. Inside were medals, mostly bronze, each engraved with a horse’s head and the image of a championship ribbon, stars encircled the rim of the entire medal. Walking down the line she pinned a medal onto each kid’s shirt. When she reached Matilda, she dug deep into the box and found a gold medal. She held it up to the group and said, “Matilda’s medal is for extraordinary bravery on horseback. Congratulations, Matilda.”
All the children applauded. Matilda beamed.
Ingrid noticed Ryder watching her with an expression of wonder and felt like beaming herself.
After medals were awarded, the children hugged and kissed Ingrid, Greta, Ryder, and the horses. Manes that had been braided and painted now glistened wet with tears. The corral felt weirdly quiet after the last parent took away their little camper.
After everyone, including Ryder, had left, an exhausted Ingrid put away the last of the tack, made sure the horses had hay and water, and leaned on Bella, arm around the sweaty horse’s neck. Bella exhaled, nostrils fluttered as if she, too, was exhausted. And maybe a little sad.
Olivia arrived later with a plate of food. “I thought I’d find you here,” Olivia said, and held out a plate heaped high with mashed potatoes and vegetables and chicken. “I thought you might be hungry. How you feeling?”
Ingrid undraped herself from Bella and took the plate, stared at the food as if she didn’t quite know what to do with it. She had a tear in her eye.
“It’s the end of summer camp, you know?” she’d said, voice brimming with emotion. “The kids had to say goodbye to all the new friends they’d made, to the wild forest place where they’d lived, and nothing’s harder than saying goodbye to a horse they’d come to love.”
“It’s because of you that they were so sad to leave. You did a great job, Ingrid. I’m very proud of you.”
Ingrid nodded tearfully. “Thank you for letting me do this, Olivia. For trusting me. I’m pretty young.”
Olivia smiled. “Young, but wise beyond your years.”
