The park offered horseback riding to its guests, so I’d put many bloody beginners on horses.
Esra was worse.
Esra was like the prim nanny or the third wife who got dragged along with the overeager kids and hated even the idea of sitting on a horse. I’d seen plenty of her type, too.
“This is Tornado,” I said in my calmest visitor-friendly voice.
“He’s big,” she grumbled. “His head is like… half of me.”
“Not quite, but yes, he’s big. Come here. Say hi.” I waved her forward and showed her how to pet his neck.
Esra stretched her hand out and Tornado immediately swung his head around to meet her halfway, more than happy to make a new friend. Esra jumped back, clamping her hands against her chest. This was going to take a lot of work. The horse sniffed at her, and each huff from his nostrils tightened the set of her shoulders.
“I’m not sitting on that.”
“Fine by me,” I said with a shrug.
“In the saddle, Esra,” Renee yelled over.
“Can we rehearse the other part first?” Esra called back. “Where he drags me from the bank. I feel like I can really channel my kicking and screaming resistance right now.”
“Get on the horse, kid.”
Esra huffed, shot a sideway glance at me, then propped her hands on her hips, rolled her shoulders back and jutted her chin into the air. She looked like she was posing for some superhero comic cover.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Nothing.” She shook her head, then her limbs, and plastered on a stupid big smile that was all teeth and crinkles around her eyes. “It’s fine. Lift me up, cowboy.”
“It’s probably easier if I’m behind you. Lindsey always made a show of kicking her legs, because you need to swing your leg high to get the skirt over the saddle.” I stepped around behind her and pretended not to notice the ruffles along the seam of her leggings that ran right down her ass. “Ready?”
“For a little roughing-around? Always.”
“Oh, for god’s sake.” My hands dropped from where I’d been about to grip her waist. “Try to be serious for a few minutes, so you don’t get anyone hurt.”
“Up,” she commanded, arms stretched away from her sides like a damn cheerleader. At least she wasn’t running away from the horse.
“Yes, ma’am.” I grabbed her waist right over the thickly cushioned harness straps and lifted her up. I immediately tracked my mistake. Lindsey had been slightly heavier, and I’d given Esra the same momentum up the horse. She swung higher than I’d meant her to and landed harder in the saddle. Eyes screwed shut, she let out a squeaky huff. “Shit. Sorry.”
“Are you?” she gasped and pried one eye open to look at me. “You won’t get rid of me that easily, you know?”
“That’s not …”
“Oh god.” She blinked and turned her head, tracking her new position in the saddle. Her hands flailed out by her sides.
“Hold on to the horn,” I said, and tapped the frontof the saddle to point out the vaguely mushroom-shaped handle for her.
“Not the reins?”
“I’ll be taking the reins.”
“Right.”
I pulled on the straps with thick carabiners on each side of the saddle. “These are your buckles. They connect to your harness to keep you on the horse. I’ll buckle you in when I’m sitting behind you. You just hold on to the saddle and try not to fall until then, okay?”
Esra shook her head. “I want to get down.”
“Foot in the stirrup, here.”
