“I’m…scared.” Heat crawled up my neck. “And I don’t really know why.”
“What is the worst thing you think could happen right now?” Her hand was running along Willow’s flank, the other holding her lead.
My eyes flicked away from the horse to her. “What do you mean?”
“You’re scared for a reason. Do you think something bad is going to happen? Is it because you haven’t been around horses for a while? Getting to the root of your fear will displace it.” She sounded so…non-Delilah. I didn’t know how to feel about it.
“I don’t know,” I said, truly not understanding the fear I felt. The horse was old, docile. But for some reason, it was like I was waiting for her to snap. “Maybe because I hadn’t been around them in a while, like you said?” I shrugged.
Delilah nodded, looking over Willow. “Horses can be unpredictable,” she said. “They notice changes in our breathing, posture, and even tiny shifts in muscle tone. They get easily spooked and react quickly. How does it feel to be noticed that way?” Willow’s ears flicked, her dark eyes on me almost as if she understood what Delilah was saying and wanted to drive the point harder.
“Not good.” It was all I could manage. Sweat trickled down my back, my heart racing. I hadn’t expected this to be so intense right off the bat, or to feel so exposed. It was like Delilah had seen past every defense I’d built and saw just how damaged I was, only to start poking at those rotten parts of me.
“Kind of a walking on eggshells feeling, right?” I nodded. “Have you ever felt like this before now?”
“With Jeremy,” I whispered, my voice shaking. “I hate it.”
“That’s a valid feeling. Let’s not push through it, and make it worse, though,” she said. “Instead, I want you to focus on your feet.”
My face pulled in with a frown, looking at her. “My feet?”
“I know it sounds stupid, but trust me. Imagine stepping into a bath, a good one, with bubbles, candles, and a fat glass of wine. Picture the warm water slowly moving up your ankles, your calves. Unlock your knees. You’ve been standing like you’re bracing for impact. No one is going to hit you here; Willow and I love baths.”
My mouth twitched with a smile. I let out a shaky breath, deciding to trust her and go along with it even if it sounded crazy.
“Look at Willow’s side, and how her ribs move when she breathes. Slow and steady. Good, deep inhales like when you’re smelling a hot guy’s cologne, and you can’t get enough.” I couldn’t help but laugh that time. Willow shifted toward me, and I immediately tensed again.
“You’re okay. Match her breathing, Tessie,” Delilah said. “In through your nose, out through your mouth, just like her. No rush.”
I inhaled, held it a moment, then let it go. Willow’s next exhale was long and loose, and I followed. My shoulders eased almost against my will, the tension leaving my body.
“How do you feel now?” she asked.
“Still on edge,” I admitted. “But it’s not overwhelming anymore. It’s like it’s in the background.”
“That’s a good start,” Delilah said softly. “We have to retrain your body that not every moment is an attack waiting to happen. Like Willow, if she gets startled, she checks her surroundings, and if nothing’s wrong, she settles. You can do that, too.”
I nodded. “It’s so hard,” I whispered, feeling emotional for some reason.
“I know. But you can do hard things, bug. I believe in you.”
I let out a shaky breath, my chin quivering. “Let’s keep going.”
I was exhaustedby the time I left the barn. It felt like I’d been in there for hours instead of just one. Claire was walking a horse in the paddock, but stopped when she saw us. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Delilah and I replied, my voice more worn down than hers.
“How was it?” my sister asked, glancing between Delilah and me.
“Hard,” I sighed. “A lot harder than I expected.” I thought it would’ve been like all the other conversations Delilah and I had had lately, and I was woefully underprepared.
Delilah cracked open the cooler and pulled out a beer. She angled the bottle cap against the paddock and smacked down on the top of it, prying the cap off. “She was amazing, just like I knew she would be.”
“Think you have too much faith in me,” I grumbled with a pathetic chuckle.
“No such thing.” She pressed the bottle to her lips. “You’re a lot more receptive than your jackass brother, that’s for sure.”
Claire snorted, grabbing a beer for herself. “Emmett’s mind is locked down like Fort Knox.”
