A tiny smirk played on his lips. “It’s not the shape of anything that exists in nature. Why would a fish want to eat this?”
I looked up, blinking. The thought hadn’t occurred to me. There were lures of all shapes and sizes.
“Well, it’s kind of the shape of a heart, and that exists in nature.”
“A real heart isn’t heart-shaped.” He shot me a cocksure grin. “It’s more cone-shaped, sort of.” His grin disappeared abruptly as he stared past me in thought for several moments, perhaps recalling a painful memory. It was a look I was familiar with.
“Shall we head out?” I asked.
He nodded and then followed me outside of the barn. I untied Tequila and walked him out a few feet. “This is Tequila. You’ll be riding him. You know how to ride, right?”
“Not very well.”
“That’s okay. Get up in there and I’ll adjust the stirrups.”
He lifted his foot with grace into the stirrup, hoisted himself into the saddle, and looked down at me. His chest was pumping and there was fear growing on his face.
“Go ahead and get down,” I said.
“Why?”
“Let’s do this right so you feel comfortable.”
When he got down, I handed him the reins. “Lead him around in a circle.” Nate followed my command. “Now let him smell you.” He let Tequila smell his hands.
I handed him a carrot to feed to the horse. I could see it was coming back to him. I knew he had spent time on the ranch as a kid but horses are large, intimidating animals if you haven’t been around them much. “His name is Tequila because he’s the only horse you can ride when you’re shit-faced drunk.”
Nate let out a huge sigh of relief and then chuckled. “Thank God. I’m not gonna lie, the name threw me.”
“He’s a Tennessee Walker. You’ll look really cute and fancy riding him,” I said, in a mocking tone.
“Oh, I see, this is all for your amusement, isn’t it?”
I giggled.
“There’s that sound again.” He smiled and hopped into the saddle.
I called for Dancer, who was grazing on a little patch of grass near the main house. Climbing into the saddle, the fishing rods in hand, I looked over to Nate. He looked comfortable; he relaxed back in his seat after a few minutes of acquainting himself with the horse.
“Why weren’t you at breakfast this morning?” he asked.
“I normally eat in my cabin. And remember our agreement?”
“What?”
“No talking.”
We walked slowly past the main house. Bea waved to us from the porch where she was knitting in her chair. Dancer picked up her pace a little as we rode toward the meadow above the stream. I could feel Nate and Tequila keeping pace behind us. I slowed Dancer and let Nate ride up beside me.
Nate was holding the reins high, which was normal on a horse like Tequila who trotted naturally with a high-necked posture, but I was pretty sure he was holding the reins that way out of fear. “It’s actually more comfortable to gallop that horse than to trot.”
“I’m comfortable,” he said.
“I don’t want you to exhaust him. Go ahead and let him out a bit so you can see. Give him a little squeeze.”
“I’m scared he won’t stop.”
“You’re riding the horse. You’re controlling him. You wouldn’t put a car in neutral on a hill and just see what happens, would you?”
He laughed. “No, I definitely wouldn’t do that, and the analogy is not helping me. This horse has a mind of its own.”
“Not if you don’t let him have his way. If you want him to stop, pull back on the reins and say, ‘Whoa, horsy.’ ”
“I have to say ‘horsy’?” He looked incredulous.
“I’m kidding.”
“Shit, I would be laughing right now but I’m terrified.” When he looked over at me I could see his eyes were wide.
“Listen, Nate, Tequila won’t pass me on Dancer. He was trained that way.”
“Okay,” he said, his voice shaky. “That’s what I want to hear.”
“Let’s just trot a bit and then we’ll canter. Give him a little kick with your heel a bit farther back than you normally would, just on your right side. That’s how he knows to canter. Stay upright and move your hips with the motion. It will be like a smooth jog, and then we’ll race after that.”
His eyes shot open even wider.
“Relax, we’ll gallop a little while we have this nice open space,” I said, giving him a reassuring smile.
I let Dancer pick up the pace. I could see in my peripheral vision that Nate had done the same. “This is fun!” he shouted to me. “I want to run.”
“Let the reins out but stay firm. Tap him with both heels.”
Tequila was actually just following me but it was good that Nate was learning to give the proper commands. There was a fleeting moment when I looked over at him and saw joy on his face. I wanted that feeling and thought maybe I could allow myself a little of it once in a while.
I found it uncomfortable and distracting for Dancer to run while I was holding the fishing rods, so I slowed and then headed toward a familiar embankment that led down to the stream. We stopped at the top of the bank. Nate looked like he was having so much fun. He pulled a pair of dark sunglasses from the saddlebag and put them on while still wearing a huge smile.