THE FIRST RESERVATION FOR LEONARD RANCH Ultimate Adventures came in from the website the week following the Fourth of July. Kimberly recognized the names on the reservation immediately. Jeffrey and Irena Wainright. Parents of Tara’s friend Patty. The reservation was for Cabin #1 for two adults plus a canvas tent for two teenagers. That meant Patty and her little sister were coming too. The family would arrive on the first of August and depart on the eighth.
Kimberly wasn’t sure how she felt about her old acquaintances spending a full week in Kings Meadow. She’d changed so much from the woman she’d once been. She was a far cry from the wife and mother the Wainrights had known years ago. What would they think of her now?
But at this precise moment, Kimberly didn’t care much about Leonard Ranch Ultimate Adventures or the Wainrights. At this moment, all she cared about was surviving the next half hour in this round pen.
Chet stood in the center of the enclosure, holding a lead rope that was attached to a tall, dark-colored mare. “Come on, Kimberly. She won’t hurt you. Come on over and meet her.”
Why did I agree to do this? It’s so big. Doesn’t he have a shorter horse I could use?
“Kimberly?”
She looked down at her boots. “I can’t seem to make my feet move.” She hated the tremble in her voice. She wanted to be brave around the horses like everybody else. Like Tara. Like Anna.
“Maybe I tried to put you in the saddle too soon.” Chet led the horse to the fence and looped the rope around a post. “Back in a bit, girl.” He patted the mare’s neck. Then he took hold of Kimberly’s elbow and steered her out of the round pen and into the new barn, straight to a stall holding a sorrel colt.
She was proud of herself for knowing the little fellow was a sorrel. A few months ago she would have called him a light reddish-brown. Learning various terms was progress too. Right?
Chet opened the gate and the two of them went inside. He knelt on the stall floor near the colt’s head. “Come here, Kimberly,” he said softly.
She moved to his side.
“Now run your hand along his neck and back and over his rump. Get the feel of him.”
She did as he asked, noting the softness of the colt’s coat, feeling the quiver of muscles underneath his skin.
“Now kneel down beside me.”
Again, she obeyed.
“Look in his eyes. See the intelligence? Rub his muzzle. It’s like velvet.”
Chet was right. The colt’s muzzle was smooth. Pleasant to the touch.
“Now look at me, Kimberly.”
She turned her head toward Chet. He was so close she could see the shadow of a beard beneath his skin. So close she could smell the musky aftershave he wore.
“I will never ask you to do anything I don’t believe you can do,” he said, his tone and expression solemn. “That’s my promise. I’ll never put you in a dangerous situation. I’ll be right there with you every step of the way. I won’t rush you. I’ll encourage you.”
Her heart rat-a-tat-tatted in her chest, as much in response to his nearness as to what he’d said. It had been over a week since he’d kissed her in the hot springs pool, and suddenly all she could think about were his lips and—
The colt nudged her with his muzzle, pushing her sideways. Chet caught her before she could topple over in the straw. The tension broken, she laughed.
“Ready to try again?” he asked, smiling again. “Just sit in the saddle. We don’t have to let the horse move until you say it’s time.”
She drew a deep breath and nodded. “Yes. I’m ready to try again.”
FEAR OF HORSES—OR ANYTHING ELSE—DIDN’T HAVE to make sense. Chet knew that. Some people were afraid of riding a horse because they’d had a bad accident on one or they’d seen a bad accident somebody else had. But others were afraid because of the what-ifs that took place in their minds. They could create a thousand possible bad outcomes without any help at all: What if the horse throws me? What if I fall off and can’t get back on? What if the horse doesn’t like me? What if . . . He was convinced, from everything he’d been told, that Kimberly’s fears were of the latter variety.
Chet knew something else besides. God didn’t want her to carry fear around with her. So he prayed for her. Not entirely for altruistic reasons. He knew that his own happiness might depend on Kimberly overcoming her fear.
When the two of them returned to the round pen, Anna waited nearby, seated on her own horse. “Wondered where you got off to.” The old woman looked relaxed and natural up in the saddle. No fear of falling and breaking a hip. It was good for Kimberly to see that.
“Where have you been?” Chet asked Anna as he opened the gate.
“Trying to clear a few cobwebs from my head. That happens best when I’m on horseback.”
He knew the feeling. “Kimberly’s going to sit on Sunset for a bit. Mind keeping your eyes peeled for Tara and Pete? We’d hate to spoil the surprise.”
“Don’t mind at all. But I heard Pete say he was taking Tara up to see the old McHenry sluice box. If that’s where they went, they won’t be back for at least a couple more hours.”
“Sluice box?” Kimberly glanced from Anna to Chet and back again. “What’s that?”
Chet answered, “Gold miners used them all over the Boise Basin. Zeb McHenry mined these mountains around the same time my great-great-great grandfather came to this valley. But McHenry’s sluice was just a rough wooden trough. Nothing fancy like the kind miners use today.”
Kimberly looked toward the nearest mountain. “And it’s still up there after all this time?”
“Parts of it.”
“Amazing.”
He held the stirrup for her and watched as she put her foot in it, grabbed the horn, and pulled herself into the saddle. It wasn’t exactly graceful but neither was it tentative. Apparently her mind was on Tara, Pete, and Zeb McHenry’s sluice box.
“Maybe you and I can ride up there sometime,” he said.
She looked down at him, and he knew the instant she realized where she was, what she’d done. Surprise flashed in her eyes, and then the corners of her mouth tipped upward in the smallest of smiles. Proud of her, he grinned while patting the mare’s neck. Kimberly leaned forward and did the same.
Chet wondered if that small step into the saddle represented a much bigger step toward their future.