Hope merely shook her head in panic.
“Sit deep. Push your heels down. Hold on to the horn. Ride the wave. Don’t fight it. You don’t have to worry about steering. I’ve got him. You don’t have to worry about speed. I’m in control. All you have to do is ask yourself if this is what you were looking for.”
A full circle at a canter and she hadn’t fallen off or burst into tears.
She was pale as milk and stiff as a door, and Forrest snorted at the strangeness of carrying her and not me. His ears flicked back and forth, getting pissy but obeying me to keep cantering.
“Listen to me, Hope. You’re fine. He won’t do anything. You asked for this, remember? You wanted to be galloping by this afternoon. Well, it’s this afternoon, and you’re cantering. Three circles, Hope, and you’re still on.”
A ghost of a smile twitched her lips.
Another circle.
Still hanging on. Still white.
“Let your lower spine go loose. Rock your hips. Let the saddle swallow you up.”
She dared look at me instead of keeping her eyes glued to Forrest’s wither. For a millisecond, she obeyed, unlocking her spine and riding with the horse instead of fighting it.
But then she lost it, seizing up again, bouncing on his back. “Stop. Stop!”
“I won’t stop. Not until you learn.”
“I don’t want to learn!”
“Stop this nonsense this instant!” Graham tried to get to me, but each time he charged forward, Forrest was there, cantering around me, blocking me in the circle.
“Jacob. Don’t do this. Teach her the normal way. You’re terrifying her!” Aunt Cassie commanded, her face red with rage.
“The normal way sucks,” I called back. “She has to accept that riding is hard, it’s scary, and it’s not at all like the movies.” I narrowed a look at Hope. “She has to know this isn’t choreographed like the sets she lives on. It’s not point and shoot. If she wants to ride, she has to ride. It’s not fake or made up. She rides, or she dies.” I shrugged. “Injury versus staying on-board.”
“Jacob…” Hope moaned. “Please.”
I’d lost count of how many circles Forrest had cantered. He could go all day. The only way this was stopping was if Hope listened to me or if she fully accepted that she’d been lying to herself about needing this.
“Listen to the horse, Hope.” I clucked my tongue, making Forrest go faster.
She squealed, holding on harder, bouncing like a potato.
“I’ll stop him if you can sit to the canter for two beats. Just two. Got it?”
She clamped her lips together, yanking herself deeper into the saddle but not using any leg strength.
“Clutch with your thighs. You don’t need your hands. It’s all in your seat.”
“I’m not you!” Red patches glowed brighter on her cheeks. “I can’t do this!”
“You can. Rock. Relax that spine. Ride, for God’s sake, don’t just bounce there.”
Forrest pig-rooted as Hope’s legs dangled by his side.
She screamed.
Cassie yelled something.
Graham bellowed.
And I kept Forrest cantering. Placing the long lunge line on the ground, I tucked the end under a rock. The minute it wouldn’t drag behind Forrest, I sprinted toward girl and beast.
“What are you—”
Hope never finished that sentence as I vaulted up behind her.
I’d leapt on Forrest many times while he was mid pace. Some I’d landed, some I hadn’t, all of them a gamble of faith.
This time, I had something to hold on to, and I wrapped my arms around Hope as I settled behind the saddle on Forrest’s rump.
He snorted but kept running.
“Ride with your hips, Hope.” Clamping my hands on her waist, I pushed her down, stopping her bouncing, forcing her to rock with the beat.
Instantly, her spine unlocked, her body swayed, and her tension unravelled like a seasoned rider.
“Oh…”
“Yes, oh. Feels good, huh?”
I kept holding her, letting her feel the undeniable freedom and connection of riding with the horse and not against it.
She was tiny and fragile in my hands but strong and steel-willed too. She was a kid who’d napped with her dead mother. A kid who was brave enough to ask a total stranger about death. A kid who didn’t have anyone else to talk to in her fake world of movies and actors.
If she didn’t annoy me so much, I might’ve felt sorry for her.
But then her tension came back, reminding me she sought me for a friend but she didn’t listen.
“I want to stop now.”
I smirked. “You didn’t say please.”
“Please.”
Chuckling, I nudged Forrest a bit faster. “Not yet.”
My thumbs dug into the small of her back, forcing her to unlock her hips again.
With a sharp breath, she relaxed and trusted, and the difference in her riding was night and day.
The moment her body naturally lengthened and sought the pace again, I whistled under my breath, bringing Forrest to a complete stop.
She breathed hard in front of me. Her back touching my chest with each inhale. Her brown hair crackled from flying every which way and sweat glistened on her young face.