"Want me to stay behind with you?" Hannah asked. "I'm sure Manning and the instructors can handle it."
I turned and squinted at the stables. The horses were beautiful . . . and enormous. If possible, they seemed even bigger than the year before. A small part of me wanted to be brave just so I wouldn't miss this time with Manning.
"It's okay," I told Hannah. "The girls will want you there."
One of the handlers came out of the stable in cowboy boots. He waved at the girls. "Who wants to ride a horse?" They screamed and took off running toward him. For a moment, he looked terrified, but quickly recovered. "Okay, okay. Slow down. You don't want to spook the poor things."
"You or the horses?" Hannah teased.
Manning looked up at the commotion. Once he'd secured his camper, he came over to us. "I've never ridden a horse. Believe that?"
That he'd never climbed on the back of a wild animal and expected it do what he said? Yes, I believed that. What sane person would? I bit my thumbnail. "Me, neither."
"It'll be a first for us both, then. Come on."
Hannah followed, but I stayed where I was. Horses on the ground didn't frighten me-it was the thought of getting on and letting go. What stopped the horse from doing whatever the hell it wanted? What if it suddenly had some kind of psychotic break? I'd never broken a bone, and I didn't want to start today.
The handler came out with a shiny, black horse, scanned the crowd, and started toward me. "You're going to ride Betsy Junior," he said.
I looked around to make sure he wasn't talking to someone else. "Me?"
"She's a little on the wild side, but she's not as bad as her mom. Better if a counselor takes her."
I tried to back away, but my feet were suddenly made of lead. Betsy had black eyes and didn't blink, as if she were trying to send me a message-touch me and I'll buck you into a tree. Betsy Junior neighed, a sinister laugh. "I can't," I said. I was too young to die. I'd never even been kissed or learned how to drive. "I'm going to sit this one out."
"What's wrong?" Manning asked from behind me, and I jumped. Where had he come from?
"I can't do it."
"Why not?"
"She's scared," the handler said. "I see it in her eyes. Betsy gets the same look when I bring her around all these kids."
I gulped. "I'll stay here and wait for you guys."
"You sure?" the instructor asked. "You could ride with me."
I'd only just met the guy. He might do this for a living, but what did that even mean? He could've been hired yesterday. Maybe he'd been an insurance salesman who'd gotten laid off and had decided owning a pair of cowboy boots qualified him for this job. "I'm sure."
"Suit yourself. Looks like Betsy Junior's safe another day." He led Betsy back to the stable.
I turned and found Manning looking at me as if he were waiting for something. "What?" I asked.
"You know what."
"No I don't."
"You got out of the Ferris wheel, but not this one. I'm going to make you get on a horse."
"But-"
"Ride with me."
My breath caught in my throat. But that would mean being pressed up against him for an hour. An entire hour. I'd probably faint-and fall off the horse. And get trampled. "But you just said you've never done it."
"That guy gave me a quick lesson. I'm a natural sportsman." He smiled crookedly. "I've got this, Lake."
"It's okay. I really don't even want to."
With the sun high in the sky, his dark eyes were nearly black. "You told me you weren't afraid to get dirty."
"It's not that. What if the horse goes crazy and bucks me off?"
"Then you'll fall, and we'll get you up and dust you off."
"What if I break something?"
"What if? You tell me."
I opened my mouth. I'd expected him to tell me that wouldn't happen. That he'd protect me. If I fell off, I might hurt myself and have to go to the infirmary, maybe even the hospital. But that was true for all the girls and boys around me. Which meant now, it wasn't just about riding a horse. It was about proving what I could handle. How much hurt I could take and keep going. "Okay," I said without an ounce of confidence. "I'll ride with you."
"Today," he said. "And next time, you'll do it yourself."
I didn't believe I could, but he didn't need to know that. I nodded. "Which horse?"
"Betsy Senior. Come on."
My knees nearly gave out. Of course Manning's first time on a horse would be on the wildest one. I supposed if I was going to ride a Betsy at all, it might as well be with Manning. I followed him.
He tested the stirrup with his boot. "Put your foot in and get on."
I looked down and back up at him. "On the horse?"
"Trust me, Birdy." He gathered the reins. "I just did this with my own campers and a couple of yours."
My heart slowed a little hearing his nickname for me. As soon as I stuck my tennis shoe in the stirrup, Manning lifted me onto the horse by my waist. "Christ, Lake," he said, adjusting my foot in the stirrup. His head came all the way to my shoulder. "You weigh the same as a ten-year-old."
It wasn't true, but it probably felt that way to Manning, who could lift a horse without a struggle.
Okay, maybe not a horse. But he was strong.
Manning turned to walk away, and panic gripped me. I reached out and grabbed the first thing I could, nearly toppling over as I latched onto his t-shirt. "Where are you going?"
He stopped in his tracks, mostly because I had him in a death grip. When he saw me lopsided in the saddle, he laughed. "You know animals can sense fear, right?"
He wasn't helping. "That's a myth."
"Is it?" He engulfed my fisted hand with his, but didn't pull me off. "I was just going to make sure everyone got on, but if you think you need me more . . ."
I did. I needed him. Why didn't I get to be selfish every now and then like everyone else? He would stay if I asked him to. Most of the girls had ridden horses before, some had even taken lessons. But I hadn't come here to be with Manning-I'd come for them. I loosened my fist, and he held my hand until I'd righted myself on the horse.
"Two minutes," he said. "If she moves, pull on the reins and say ‘whoa.'"
Manning checked in with each of his boys and my girls, too. The way he made eye contact with each one and listened to whatever they said made me wonder why my dad wasn't like this with me when I got scared. He would've just told me to get on and quit whining. Did Manning get that from his dad? Where was Mr. Sutter? What did he do for a living? How often did Manning see him? After he'd shut down my questions about his sister, I wasn't sure I could ask. But if Manning had become the man he was because of his dad, I wanted to meet and thank him.
Betsy Senior neighed and took a few steps, jolting me back to reality. I tugged on the reins.
Manning looked over and mouthed, Whoa.
"Whoa," I said. Betsy stamped a hoof and settled.
It took longer than two minutes, but Manning returned once it was time to go. "You want to drive?"
"No. Will you? Please."
He scratched his chin. "I didn't think this through. You might need to get off so I can get on first. Can you do it?"
If it meant I wouldn't have to be in charge of this thing, then yes. He helped me down, hoisted himself onto the horse, and jerked his head for me to get on again. Tentatively, I put my foot in the stirrup again. I had no way of pulling myself up, so Manning offered his elbow. I used it to slide onto the saddle behind him.
"See?" he said. "You're a natural. "Ready?"
But now, what was I supposed to do with my hands? His nearness robbed me of everything from sense to speech. His camp t-shirt, still creased, smelled like plastic and a hint of sweat.
"You might want to hold on," he said.
There was only one way to hold on. He was asking me to put my arms around him-just like that? As if it wasn't something I'd dreamed of a hundred times? It was impossible that he wouldn't instantly know the depth of my feelings just by this simple hug. He'd feel the pounding of my heart against his back. My hairline began to sweat. I ached to do it, but I seriously couldn't bring myself to move an inch. I was scared stiff.
"I'm okay," I said.
"Suit yourself." Manning clucked his tongue, squeezed Betsy's sides with his feet, and she jolted forward. I seized onto his t-shirt to keep from falling. He pulled back on the reins, laughing. "Whoa, Betsy. Whoa," he said. She steadied into a walk. "It might take a few tries."