I see myself running to the barn, backpack hopping on behind me. I’m in high school. I see myself putting the bag on the ground and opening up a stall. Leaving my school work behind and going away to my happy place. I don’t even grab a saddle, just hop on and trot out to the paddock. But the gaits disappear and I see myself as I am now. Twenty-five years old. I squeeze Ridley to a gallop and let my long hair turn golden in the sundown. We run beyond the farm and into a wide open plain. Yellow daisies fill the field and Ridley moves in slow motion. I work with him, pushing forward into the golden light.
* * *
I remember going around the last barrel just before hearing the snap. It was more of a crack and echoed screams from both Ridley and the crowd. I got knocked to the ground and Ridley came down on me. I couldn’t breathe from his full mass on my entire body. And I couldn’t see because of his mane draped over my face. I tried to push and push. Get him up off of me. But it was no use. That crack was his leg and the warmth seeping into the dirt was his blood. He couldn’t get up if he tried with all his might. I remember the rush of people coming onto the arena.
I remember a man bending over me and looking at my face with horror. He held my head in his hand and pushed Ridley’s body like hell.
I know now that man was Will, my husband. It had been the one time I saw him cry besides on our wedding day. And even then he was holding it back with a smile. But that day he cried with pain.
And I just looked up at him with a blank stare. I felt bad for him but I felt good. The pain was gone and I was relaxing. And I was okay with it.
The pain returned when I woke up in the hospital. And now, four months later, the pain is still here. Obviously not as bad as the that first day in that white room of doctors, but it sure does a good job at reminding me of that fall.
“Figured you’d be out here,” Will says from behind.
I don’t turn around. Just stay sitting on the fence, facing the paddock. Snow fall slowly down, making the area look like God sprinkled powdered sugar ever so gently. I try not to shiver so my bones don’t ache even more.
“When am I not out here?” I say.
“True.”
He steps up and straddles the fence with me. The movement hurts my ribs. I grit my teeth and push my fingernails into the faded white wood. Will notices my wince.
“Still hurts?”
I nod. “A bit.”
In reality it still hurts a whole lot. I got off the painkillers but I’m swallowing Advil like it’s Skittles. I still wrap my ribs even though the doctor said I can move on to just ice because it takes the edge off. The only thing I’m not doing, and the thing that hurts my soul more than anything is riding.
After the fall, the vet did everything he could to save Ridley. But by the time they could wrap his leg, it was too late. I would trade riding any day to get Ridley back. He was my best friend.
I remember getting him for my 16th birthday. A gift every girl dreams of. But I grew up on a ranch. I knew Daddy would get me a horse and I knew it’d be a good one. And he was. He was the best racer and friend I could have prayed for. His first barrel competition was my first too. And If my bones don’t heal properly, his last would of been my last too…
“I know what you’re thinking of,” Will says into the silence.
“Did the doctor call about the x-rays from yesterday?”
I look at him now. His navy blue beanie covers his eyebrows ever-so-slightly. The blue accents his grey eyes. A snowflake lands on his eyelashes. I wait eagerly for his response.
“Just did. He said they’re healing well. Just bruising now to take care of.”
“So, I could ride again?”
“How are you gonna do that? Ridley was our only horse.”
“I’ll figure it out.”
“You can’t ride yet anyway. The doc said any bump or jolt could make it worse and start the process all over again.” I stomp my boot against the fence like a little girl.
“You don’t wanna go through this all over again, right?”
I shake my head.
He continues, “Why don’t you come in for some corn chowder?”
“You go ahead. I’ll be in in a bit.”
The best thing about fresh powder is the hoof prints you can leave in it.
* One Month Later: Christmas Day *
I wake up with my hips feeling only the tiniest bit sore. I turn over in the covers and go to wrap my arms around Will. But his side of the bed is cold. And he’s missing. I sit up. I put on my robe and head downstairs. The flames crackle in the fireplace and the oven protrudes the smell of warm cinnamon rolls. I look to the door for Will’s boots on the mat. They’re missing also. I pull on my own boots and leave the comforting aroma of our house. Snow covers everything from the ground to the roofs. But there is no wind and no flakes fall from the sky. It’s the kind of snow that sparkles in the morning light and would pack nicely into a snowman.
I follow Will’s tracks into the barn, holding my thin robe tight around me. As soon as my feet hit the snow that blew into the barn ground, I back up into the snow bank outside. Will holds onto a red and white lead rope that trails to the neck of a stunning grey appaloosa. Her winter coat thick and asking to be touched. I look to Will for an answer even though I know it already.
“She’s yours now.”
My palm goes to my mouth. No one could ever replace my partner, Ridley, but as I look into the soft eyes of this mare, I think maybe she could fill a hole I’ve had since he’s left me. Just maybe, I could feel whole again…
©2019