Page 81 of Wright Together

“Bunny?” Whitt asked.

I was laughing the entire way around back and into Arden’s private stables. Whitt’s face at the name was delightful.

Arden had a handful of horses that were used by friends and family. Some of them were because they weren’t fit for the public. Either personal favorites, rodeo horses—ropers and barrel racers—or because, like Bunny, they were now past their prime but too beloved to do anything but let them live out their lives in the pasture.

“Meet Bunny,” Arden said, gesturing to the aging caramel-brown horse. “She’s not exactly what I’d describe assweet, but she can’t really canter anymore. She’s an old lady, and you have to treat her nice like one. Got it?”

Whitt nodded. “Got it. Hello, Bunny.”

He held his hand out to her. Bunny sniffed his hand, bobbed her head twice, as if expecting a treat, then dismissed him entirely when she found the hand empty.

“She works best with treats.”

“Don’t we all?” I muttered.

“Eve, would you rather have Bramble or Trouble?” Arden gestured to two horses. One dappled mare and proud and the other midnight black with white down the gelding’s nose.

“Trouble,” Whitt said with a laugh.

“Oh, but Bramble is so pretty,” I said.

Arden shrugged. “Don’t let her deceive you. She’s equally a piece of work.”

“Trouble it is,” I agreed. “He looks like he wants to get out of here.”

“Doesn’t he always?” Arden said.

She went about saddling Bunny and Trouble while walking Whitt through the basic mechanics of riding. She had both horses in hand when she turned around and looked him up and down.

“Do you want boots?” she asked.

“Boots?”

I cackled. “Cowboy boots, Whitt.”

“We have some in basically every size. Most people don’t want to get their shoes dirty, and it’s easier to have them on hand,” she explained. “You’re what, an eleven?”

“And a half,” he said, dismay in his voice.

“Yeah. Grab some off that rack over there. Top shelf.”

He sighed. “I’m only doing this for you.”

“I know,” I said with a satisfied grin.

Then, he headed over to the rack to find his size.

“You got yourself a guy who’s never been on a horse or in boots,” Arden said with a laugh. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

“Plenty of guys like that since high school.”

“What are y’alls plans after this? We could grab dinner and catch up. I heard about your gram.”

“Yeah. It sucks. And your dad.”

“Yeah.”

We both sat in our grief for a second. It was nice to be around someone who knew what it felt like. Who knew that it didn’t need an apology. Just silence.