“Um, why are there horses?” I ask.
“Tried to pull the trailer full of people myself, but couldn’t get it to budge, so…,” Sterling says with a grin.
“Ha-ha,” I deadpan. “I just mean, aren’t these things usually pulled by tractors?”
Cooper pushes off the tree. “Maybe at other places, but in Bramble Falls, the horses are part of the pumpkin patch experience.”
“You two have fun with that,” Sterling says, saluting. “I gotta get back to the concession stand. A customer just showed up.”
“I don’t love horses,” I tell Cooper. I look nervously over my shoulder back toward the food. “Maybe I can switch jobs with Sterling.”
“Have you ever even been around a horse?”
“Irrelevant. Their teeth are big,” I tell him.
“They don’t bite,” he says, smiling. “Usually.”
I frown. “Comforting.”
“You’ll be okay. I promise.”
“But they’re huge. Especiallythose ones,” I say, gesturing at the giant monsters attached to the trailer.
“It’s not like you have to get on them. We’re going to sit on that built-in bench at the front of the trailer. I’ll have the reins. You just have to ride next to me and help people when we get to the pumpkin patch.”
I gnaw at my lip, then finally nod. “Yeah, okay.”
I follow Cooper over to the trailer, and he tugs the collapsible steps down so people can climb onto the platform filled with hay bales. As he gets people situated, I slowly inch toward the front to look at the horses. They’re massive, but I have to admit they’re also breathtaking.
When I was younger, I always begged my parents to take me on the horse-drawn carriages in the winter in the city. Dad would scoff and say those things were for tourists, and Mom would give me a weak smile and agree.
“They’re Clydesdales,” Cooper says, coming up behind me. The black one in front of us nods his head. “This is Ink.”
“And the other one?”
“Coffee.”
I look at the brown horse, the color of coffee beans. “Those are great names.” I inch closer to Ink, and his eye watches me. “I always wanted to be an equestrian when I was little.”
“Yeah? And now you’re afraid of horses?” Cooper asks.
I shrug. “Well, I liked theideaof riding them as a kid, but I’d never been around them. Then I got older and realized just how big they are.”
“They’re gentle giants.” He takes a step to his left and pets Ink on the nose. Then he reaches out and wraps his fingers gently around my forearm and pulls me toward him. “Come pet him. He won’t bite you. Or kick you. Or stomp on you. Or whatever else you’re afraid of.”
Cooper is just behind me, his body close enough that I feelsafe. Slowly, reluctantly, I reach up toward Ink’s nose, right where Cooper was petting him.
But then Ink shakes his head, abrupt and quick, and I rear back with a scream.
“Fuck!” I hear as my head rams into something—or someone.
When I whip around, Cooper is bent over, holding his face.
“Oh my—I’m so sorry!” I tell him. He doesn’t respond as his back rises and falls with deep breaths. “Are you okay?”
He holds up a finger, telling me to give him a minute.
“Coop, I’m sorry.” I put my hand on his shoulder.
