Page 21 of Wild Horses

Tyler stood at the stainless-steel counter, meticulously arranging ingredients for the evening’s dessert.

The main meal had already been served: grilled chicken thighs marinated in lemon and thyme, steamed green beans finished with a drizzle of garlic olive oil, and a quinoa salad tossed with cherry tomatoes, cucumber and a sprinkle of feta.

Tonight’s dessert featured poached pears in apple sauce with vanilla bean ice cream. The peeled pears waited to be submerged in a simmering pot of apple juice spiced with star anise and a dash of honey.

As Tyler carefully placed each pear quarter into the fragrant liquid, his mind wandered from the task at hand.

After dinner tonight he was planning on asking Christy to join him for a ride on the following Saturday.

The idea had been brewing in his mind for days – a pleasant distraction that threatened to undermine his culinary focus.

He reached for the cinnamon, only to realise he’d already added it.

Tyler glanced at the clock. Time was slipping away as quickly as his concentration.

Turning down the heat under the pot, he allowed himself a moment to imagine the scene: just him and Christy, the quiet thud of hooves on the forest path, the opportunity to talk away from the chaos of their current project.

He pictured her smile, the way her eyes lit up when she laughed, and felt a flush that had nothing to do with the stove’s heat.

Shaking his head to clear these thoughts, Tyler turned his attention back to the dessert.

He prepared the garnish – a handful of crushed nuts and a few sprigs of mint to add a touch of freshness and contrast to the rich, spiced sauce.

Just as he was about to serve the ice cream, Christy popped her head into the kitchen.

‘Need any help in here?’

‘Actually, yes. Could you scoop the ice cream while I get these pears plated?’

Tyler carefully lifted the pears, letting the excess liquid drain before placing them on individual serving plates. He drizzled each serve with a generous amount of reduced apple sauce.

As he sprinkled the crushed nuts over the desserts, he stole glances at Christy.

How would he phrase the invitation? Should it be lighthearted, or should he let on how much he really wanted her to say yes?

Tyler wiped his hands on his apron, his decision made.

He’d simply ask Christy to go riding. There’d be plenty of time to tell her how he felt when they were on their date.

And that’s what it would be if she agreed to go, at least in his eyes.

The first date he’d been on since Grace.

After being an iceberg for so many years, he now burned to be alone with Christy.

They could ride along picturesque Currawong Creek – the perfect place for them to share more of themselves.

And although being on horseback again after all these years was bound to bring back painful memories, it was time for some courage.

They arranged bowls on the serving counter then called people in to help themselves. As the teens lined up, Tyler washed his hands and gestured for Christy to join him outside on the porch.

‘Do you have plans for Saturday afternoon?’

Her expressive hazel eyes showed momentary surprise before settling into friendly openness. ‘The kids have their families visiting, so no rehearsals.’

‘Exactly,’ he said, a hopeful tilt to his chin. ‘I thought, maybe you’d like to go riding with me? Out along the creek.’

‘Could be a nice escape,’ she said, casually. But to Tyler’s delight, a slight tremor in her voice betrayed her eagerness. Tyler took a deep breath. Saturday couldn’t come quickly enough.

Saturday arrived with a chorus of birdsong and an azure sky so clear it seemed someone had polished the blue just for them.

Christy had chosen the aged black gelding Spirit for Tyler.

Spirit did not live up to his name, and only seemed to have one pace – a leisurely stroll.

Christy rode Honey, the elegant chestnut mare, who tossed her head impatiently at Spirit’s slow progress.

The rhythmic thud of hooves on the dirt path provided a comforting cadence to their journey.

Currawong Creek stretched out like a painting come to life – blueberry ash and honey myrtles stood tall, their leaves shimmering silver-green in the dappled sunlight.

The air was filled with the earthy scent of the bush, mingling with the tang of wild river mint that grew in abundance along the banks.

Tyler breathed in the crisp country air, letting it fill his lungs and calm his mind.

He felt Christy’s eyes on him as they rode along the winding trail.

For a while he allowed himself to imagine a world where everything was this simple and easy – where the only thing that mattered was the peaceful rhythm of riding alongside someone you cared about.

Suddenly a wallaby burst from the scrub. Honey shied wildly, almost unseating her rider. The mare took the bit between her teeth and bolted. It took a moment for Tyler to realise Christy had lost control.

‘Come on, old boy,’ he whispered, urging his horse forwards. ‘Time to show me what you’ve got.’

Spirit rallied to the call, charging along the path in pursuit.

A jolt of fear hit Tyler as Christy lost a stirrup and slid sideways.

A fall at full gallop could easily prove fatal.

He breathed again as she regained her balance, hauling herself upright by the saddle’s pommel.

Spirit might not have been as young as Honey, but he was taller, longer of leg and by now thoroughly stirred up.

Soon he’d caught up with the frightened mare and they thundered, nose to tail, along the narrow track.

If only Christy could hang on until the path widened.

As they rounded a bend Tyler saw his chance.

A shallow ford allowed him room to draw alongside the runaway mare.

He tugged on the right rein, guiding his horse into the creek and spurring him forwards with his heels.

Spirit stumbled for a moment and then valiantly rose to the occasion.

His hooves pounded through the water, raising a rainbow of spray.

Now the horses were neck and neck. Tyler had to act quickly as just ahead the banks rose steeply again from the shallows.

He reached over and lunged for Honey’s rein.

The leather was slippery with sweat and slid from his grasp.

But on the second attempt his fingers held their grip.

He hauled back as hard as he could, both on Honey’s reins and his own.

The horses drew to a halt a few metres before the ford ended and the path narrowed again. They were both drenched in sweat. Tyler leaped from the saddle and helped a shaken Christy to dismount.

She bent over, hands on knees, until her ragged breathing slowed and steadied. When Christy finally looked up, she regarded him with astonishment.

‘Where did you learn to ride like that? And why didn’t you tell me?’

He grinned. ‘You never asked. Come on, let’s get these saddles off. I dare say Honey and Spirit would appreciate a drink and a dip in the creek.’

The horses waded into the shallows and took long draughts. Then they splashed enthusiastically in the cool water with their forelegs, soaking their humans and causing much merriment.

‘Look out!’ he called as Honey lay down and rolled in the creek, four legs flailing in the air.

Christy grinned and dived for the bank. Tyler took in his surroundings.

Weeping wattles bowing to the water’s edge.

Dragonflies darting among the reeds. The stream burbling musically along and the Bunya Mountains looming majestically in the distance. This was the perfect place.

They tethered the horses in the shade. Tyler retrieved a selection of cheeses, a bottle of shiraz and two metal tumblers from his saddle bag.

They sat together on a fallen log and Tyler poured them each a drink.

Sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled patterns on their faces.

Now he was finally alone with Christy, he was suddenly shy.

‘I’m surprised your son hasn’t told me of your equestrian skills,’ she said through a mouthful of edam.

Tyler shrugged. ‘He doesn’t know.’

Christy looked at him in astonishment.

‘Today’s the first time I’ve been on a horse since Leo was five years old.’

She studied his face. ‘Would you care to explain?’

Tyler’s shoulders tensed as he took a moment, collecting the strands of his past into a narrative he felt he could share.

‘My wife, Grace, Leo’s mother ...’ Her name fell softly from his lips, the precious name he hadn’t spoken for so long.

‘Horses were her life. She competed in Grand Prix dressage – was in the running for our Olympic team when she died.’ He took a swig of wine. ‘I learned to ride for her.’

‘What was she like?’

Tyler hesitated, unsure if he should dive into those memories. ‘She was vibrant – and beautiful. Always smiling, always making others feel better about themselves. And a terrific mother on top of all that.’

‘She sounds like a wonderful person.’

‘Grace was everything to me,’ Tyler admitted. ‘For years I was convinced I could love only one woman in my lifetime.’

He handed her another piece of cheese, their fingers brushing briefly, sending a charge through them both. And in that moment Tyler felt his shields come down and give way to a fragile trust.

‘I don’t know. Perhaps I thought it would be betraying her memory. But being with you, seeing how you are with Leo ... it’s opened something in me.’ His gaze fixed on hers. ‘It’s real, Christy, and I want you to know.’

The powerful pull of her presence was undeniable. Tyler leaned closer until he could feel her breath warm against his cheek. Their faces were mere centimetres apart, the anticipation of their kiss sending a shiver down his spine.

Just as their lips were about to meet, a drum of hoofbeats broke the spell. Startled, they turned to see Maggie canter into view.

‘Hello, you two,’ Maggie called, her smile broad, seemingly oblivious to the intimacy she’d interrupted. She halted her dappled mare beside them, glancing at the cheese plate and wine bottle. ‘A picnic!’ she exclaimed. ‘How lovely. Can anyone join?’