Page 92 of Things I Read About

Damn it all.

I force myself to look away.

“Can you even see in that thing?” I say over my shoulder when she gets closer. My voice is garbled but she doesn't notice. She and Leia are moving slowly and awkwardly. Sally clearly doesn’t remember anything she was taught about riding.

“I don’t need to see; you saidthe Generalwill follow Han.”

“All right then.” I click out of the side of my mouth to get us moving. I get Han up to a slow trot. But Leia has other ideas.

“Nate!” I hear as the mare and her rider, moving like a bobblehead body mounted to a saddle, pass by. “NATE!” Sally screeches.

And I laugh because they are barely trotting.

Sally is hunched over, tilting sideways, yelling her head off. The hat has got to be blocking her eyes, her hair is flying.

Absolute. Hazard.

“Are you laughing? Help me.”

But I can’t help because it’s just too funny. “Try mooing at her.”

“Nate, please!” Her voice cracks a bit and something in my chest twitches. In two seconds flat I’m beside them.

“Sit up and pull on the reins,” I say to Sally. Then I talk to the horse. “Woah, Leia. Woah. That’s too fast for my—”Shit.“Client,” I say.

Good save, idiot. She is notyourgirl. Man the hell up.

But she didn’t hear my fumble.

She’s ranting under her breath. “I hate this. I hate this with the passion of a thousand suns. Thousand Suns.1945. J.Robert Oppenheimer,describing the A-Bomb.”

“What are you mumbling over there?”

“I’m saying I want off,” she screeches. Then she sniffs. She’s trying not to cry.Shit.

“All right, all right.” I move my horse closer to hers, our legs almost touching. “Take a deep breath, Sally. You’re okay.”

“I hate horses. Can Leonard do this with you?”

“I’ll just call the trainer to come instead. Let’s go back.”

She squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head furiously. “I can’t go all the way back.”

“Sally,” I say, struggling to keep a straight face. “Look behind you.” We’ve made it about fifty feet.

She peeks an eye open behind her and her full bottom lip drops down again. “Oh, my stars.” She puts her hands up to her face.

I chuckle. “My stars?”

“And garters. That’s the full expression. ‘Oh, my stars and garters.’ From England. 1800s.” She still sounds a little manic.

“You weren’t lying about not being an animal person, huh?”

“Ugh!” She groans but she is smiling under her hands. And blushing again too, from what I can see.

My hand reaches toward her, but I drop it. “Come on, a few steps and we can be done.”

“Okay.” She sniffs and her voice changes. “Okay, Nate.”