Here is my second chapter to my story Horse Girl. If you haven’t already read: Just For Fun: Writing A Story About A Horse Girl.
Chapter 2
The early morning sky was a muted gray, the sun hidden behind thick clouds that cast a soft, diffused light across the paddocks. The damp earth clung to Emma’s boots as she hauled the bale of hay toward the open field. Her muscles ached from the effort, but the soreness was welcome—it gave her something tangible to focus on, something to drown out the swirling emotions that had weighed her down since the argument a few nights ago.
Her fifteenth birthday. It should’ve felt special. But it didn’t.
She dropped the bale by the fence and paused, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. Birthdays were supposed to be exciting—a day full of surprises, cake, and maybe even a little magic. But for Emma, it was just another reminder of what she didn’t have, of what she might never have. After her dad’s harsh words, she’d cried, hard, the kind of tears that leave you empty and exhausted. But even after the crying stopped, the disappointment hadn’t gone away. It had settled deep in her chest, an ache that was impossible to shake.
They paid for her lessons, sure, but even that felt like a burden to them—especially to her dad. He’d made it clear that horses were too expensive, too much to ask. Every ride, every trip to the barn was a reminder of how much they had to stretch just to keep it going. But it wasn’t enough for Emma. She didn’t just want to ride someone else’s horse once a week. She wanted something that was hers, something she could pour her heart into. A real chance at her dreams, not just a temporary escape.
She paused outside Chester’s stall, the dapple-gray gelding poking his head over the door to nicker softly, his warm breath brushing her hand as he nudged her for attention. Emma’s fingers drifted to his muzzle, her touch soft. She knew she shouldn’t let herself get attached—Chester was a lesson horse, and like all the others, he wasn’t hers. He never would be. But sometimes, just for a moment, she let herself pretend. She imagined what it would be like to have a horse of her own. To know that he was hers to care for, to ride whenever she wanted. It was a fleeting thought, one she immediately pushed aside before it could hurt too much.
The barn had always been her refuge, the place where everything felt right. But even here, with the smells of hay and leather and the familiar routine, something was off. She couldn’t relax the way she used to. The happiness she felt with the horses was real, but her current situation wasn’t enough. There was always this feeling, this emptiness that she couldn’t fill. She knew what it was, and she knew why it lingered. The bond she craved, the trust, the partnership—none of that could truly happen unless she had her own horse. Without that, it was all temporary. And her dreams—including the one where she moved to the upper levels of eventing—felt distant, like something only other people could achieve. People with money. People who didn’t have to fight for every little thing.
Her dad’s voice echoed in her mind, cold and unyielding: This sport is for rich people, Emma. It’s just not something we can do. And as much as she hated to admit it, part of her feared he was right. What was the point of dreaming so big when every step of the way seemed impossible?
She sighed, letting her hand fall away from Chester’s muzzle. School was starting soon, which meant less rides and less time at the barn. All the progress she’d made over the summer would start slipping away, just like everything else. How was she supposed to improve, to reach her goals, if everything she needed kept slipping through her fingers?
She didn’t know. Maybe it wasn’t possible. Maybe her dad was right.
As she walked past the stalls, Maple nickered softly. Emma gave the chestnut mare a pat, her hand moving automatically, though her heart wasn’t in it. “Maybe one day,” she murmured, but the words felt empty. She didn’t let herself believe it. Not today. Maybe not ever.
“Emma! Happy birthday!” Molly’s voice rang out, cutting through the fog of Emma’s thoughts. Emma turned to see her instructor and the barn owner’s daughter walking toward her, a warm smile on her face, carrying a small box in her hands.
Emma tried to muster a genuine smile in return. “Thanks, Molly,” she said quietly, though the weight of the morning still lingered.
Molly tilted her head, her eyes studying Emma more closely. “You okay, kiddo? You seem a little off today.”
Emma shifted her weight, forcing a shrug. “Just… a lot on my mind, I guess.”
Molly didn’t press further, but her smile softened. “Well, I’ve got something for you that might cheer you up.” She held out the box, the twinkle in her eye showing the care behind the gesture.
Emma took the box, her fingers trembling slightly as she unwrapped the plain paper. She opened it to reveal a beautiful stock pin and stock tie, a smile tug at the corners of her lips. Her breath caught in her throat. It was the kind of thoughtful gift that she hadn’t realized she needed until that moment.
“Molly, thank you so much,” Emma said, her voice thick with emotion. She blinked back the unexpected tears that began to well up. It wasn’t just the gift—it was the reminder that Molly saw her and cared, that someone believed in her even when she didn’t always believe in herself. Molly had no idea about the turmoil Emma had been going through, but somehow, she always knew just what to say to make her feel thought of and understood.
Molly’s smile widened at Emma’s reaction. “You’ve been working hard this summer, kiddo. Figured it’s time to start getting you ready for your next competition.”
Emma’s heart lifted just a little. She wasn’t out of the darkness yet, but this—Molly’s kindness, her encouragement was a reminder that not everything was hopeless.
“Oh, and I’ve got another surprise,” Molly added, her grin widening as she leaned in conspiratorially. “Take the morning off, don’t worry Ben and I have got it. You, Owen, and Jasmine are gonna head out on a trail ride. My birthday gift to you.”
Emma blinked, surprised. “Seriously?” The idea of a relaxing trail ride with her friends was like a breath of fresh air she hadn’t realized she needed.
“Seriously,” Molly said with a wink. “Have some fun.”
A small laugh bubbled up from Emma before she could stop it. “That sounds amazing,” she said, her voice lighter than it had been all morning. And for the first time that day, she felt a genuine smile tug at the corners of her mouth.
“Go on,” Molly said, waving her off. “Buster’s all yours. But you’d better get moving before Owen and Jasmine beat you to it. We all know how you like to be… thorough grooming the horses.” She said with a chuckle.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Emma hurried into the barn, her mood lifted ever so slightly from Molly’s gift and the promise of the trail ride. As she approached Buster’s stall, her heart skipped a little at the sight of the 16-hand bay gelding waiting for her, ears pricked forward. He let out a low nicker when he saw her, and Emma’s heart softened. Steady. Reliable. He wasn’t her horse—he wasn’t anyone’s horse, really, just one of the lesson horses—but in moments like this, Emma could almost forget that.
“Hey, big guy,” she murmured, clipping him into the cross ties as Buster’s soft muzzle brushed her cheek, his warm breath tickling her skin. She smiled, rubbing his nose gently. He nuzzled her hand in return, his lips moving as if searching for a treat. Emma chuckled, patting his strong neck. “Sorry, no treats right now,” she whispered, though just being with him was a small comfort she hadn’t expected to need so badly today.
As she began brushing him, the familiar rhythm of the task settled her nerves. The soft strokes of the brush against his coat calmed her in a way few things could. Buster was perfect for this ride—a solid partner, even if his bouncy trot and choppy canter made her work a bit harder than usual. But she didn’t mind.
Lost in the quiet comfort of grooming, Emma didn’t notice Jasmine and Owen approaching until Jasmine’s excited voice broke through her thoughts.
“Happy birthday, Emma!” Jasmine called, practically bouncing with energy as she came around the corner, holding a brightly wrapped gift. Owen followed behind her, a grin firmly in place.
Emma smiled, surprised but genuinely happy to see them. “You guys didn’t have to get me anything,” she said, giving Buster one last pat.
“Of course we did!” Jasmine exclaimed, pushing the gift into her hands. “Open it!”
Emma unwrapped the box to find a turquoise grooming bag with bright yellow sunflowers—the exact color she loved—and a matching set of grooming brushes, her initials engraved on each one. Her heart swelled. It was the perfect gift, and the thoughtfulness behind it was what made it even more special.
“Jasmine, this is perfect! Thank you so much.”
Jasmine grinned. “I figured you’d need something personalized for when you finally get your own horse,” she teased, her green eyes gleaming conspiratorially.
Emma laughed, though the words stung just a little—when she got her own horse. But she didn’t let that feeling linger. “It’s perfect,” she repeated, her smile genuine.
Owen stepped forward, holding out a small bag. “And here’s mine. Don’t get too excited.”
Emma’s smile widened as she pulled out a plush horse with a note tied around its neck. The note read: I guess I’m the closest thing to a horse you’re getting today.
“Trust you to keep things in perspective,” Emma said, rolling her eyes playfully, knowing how he liked to tease her.
“Hey, someone’s gotta keep you from getting lost in your dreams.” Owen smirked.
For a moment, Emma met his gaze and felt a flicker of something—a reminder of that feeling she’d been trying to bury all morning. Owen’s teasing smile faltered, his eyes softening like he wanted to say something comforting. But before he could speak, Emma forced a smile and said, “Well, we better finish getting the horses ready.” She promptly turned back to Buster, her voice a little too upbeat as she tried to end the moment before it got too real.
Once Buster was tacked up, Emma swung into the saddle, the familiar feel of his steady presence beneath her already easing the tension she’d been carrying all morning. Maybe this trail ride was exactly what she needed after all.
Owen mounted Cajun, his spirited chestnut gelding, while Jasmine nervously climbed onto Travis, her green and unpredictable Chincoteague pony.
“Everyone good to start walking?” Emma asked, making sure they all agreed before setting off. Jasmine nodded, her grip tight on the reins.
Buster’s walk was straightforward, and she let herself settle into the rhythm. The ride was exactly what she needed after the emotions of the morning—something to clear her mind and bring her back to the present.
The ride began quietly as they let the horses warm up, walking along the shaded trail. The cool air and soft sounds of the horses’ hooves on the dirt path created a peaceful atmosphere, and Emma felt her shoulders finally relax. Buster moved rhythmically beneath her, his ears swiveling occasionally to listen to the world around him. There was something about riding Buster that made her feel secure, like she could let go and trust him completely.
“I’m kind of excited school starts next week,” Jasmine said with a grin. “It’ll be fun catching up with everyone. But the classes? Definitely not ready for those.”
“I’m not ready at all,” Emma said with a sigh. “I feel like I was just starting to make real progress in my riding, and now it’s all going to slow down again.”
“Yeah, school’s whatever,” Owen said, dropping his reins for a moment and stretching his arms overhead. “I’ll miss having all day to ride. At least I’ll get to see everyone again, but yeah… it’s back to riding when I can and pretending I care about homework.”
“I’m really gonna miss riding every day too,” Jasmine admitted, glancing at Travis, who tossed his head as if agreeing with her.
Emma gave a small smile. “At least we’ll still have our Tuesday lessons together. That’s something.”
The group fell back into a comfortable silence, letting the horses stretch their legs. After a while, the path widened into an open clearing. Emma glanced over at her friends. “Are you guys good to pick up a trot?”
“Sure, why not,” Owen replied.
Jasmine hesitated but nodded. “As long as Travis behaves…”
As they moved into a trot, Emma sat for a couple of strides, feeling the familiar bounce of Buster’s gait. His bouncy stride always made her work harder, and as she rose into the posting trot, she reminded herself to let him lift her. Relax into it, let him lift you, she told herself, resisting the urge to stand too tall in the stirrups. Buster’s ears flicked back as if making sure she was with him, and she adjusted her rhythm, settling into his familiar but tricky bouncy trot.
Travis, on the other hand, was a different story. Jasmine struggled to keep him steady, her nervous energy making the pony toss his head again. “Travis is being… enthusiastic today to say the least,” she muttered.
“You’re doing great,” Emma called back encouragingly. “Just relax your hands, a bit.”
They continued trotting until the trail narrowed, and Emma slowed Buster back to a walk, giving him a chance to catch his breath.
As they approached a small stream, Travis balked, his ears pinned back in uncertainty. Jasmine tensed, speaking in a low reassuring tone, trying to keep him calm.
“He hates water,” she said nervously.
Emma slowed Buster, looking back. “You’ve got this, Jasmine. Just take it slow.”
But Travis had other ideas. With a sudden burst of energy, he leaped over the water in a wild, exaggerated jump, nearly unseating Jasmine. She let out a shriek but clung to the saddle, barely managing to stay on as Travis landed awkwardly on the other side.
“And that’s why we’re not doing eventing!” Jasmine gasped, her face a mixture of fear and triumph.
Owen let out a loud laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, I’d stick to dressage if I were you, Jas.”
They continued walking until the path opened up into a wide, grassy meadow. Owen, now riding beside Emma, caught her eye, and a mischievous grin spread across his face. No words were needed—Emma knew exactly what that look meant.
Without hesitation, they urged their horses into a canter. Buster’s choppy stride smoothed out as Emma rose into a half-seat, feeling him come alive beneath her. Cajun, with his sleek thoroughbred speed, matched pace for a moment before both horses caught the excitement of the race. They bolted into a gallop, Buster’s quiet demeanor fading as he surged forward like he was years younger. But Cajun, with his long, racing strides, powered ahead, leaving Buster behind. Emma didn’t care—just feeling the wind in her face and Buster’s sudden burst of energy was pure joy.
But then, she remembered. Jasmine.
Travis bolted after them, clearly not wanting to be left behind. Emma’s heart dropped when she heard Jasmine’s panicked shout.
“Travis! Slow down!” She yelled at her rampaging Chincoteague pony.
Owen slowed Cajun down once he reached the edge of the meadow, looking back over his shoulder just in time to see Jasmine’s wild ride behind Emma.
“Whoops,” Owen said, eyes wide as he reined Cajun in. “Sorry about that, Jas.” He called.
Emma immediately slowed Buster, turning to look back at Jasmine, who was struggling to keep control. Guilt flooded her as she realized how thoughtless she and Owen had been, leaving Jasmine to handle Travis alone. Obviously he would not want to be left behind, they are herd animals.
By the time they reached the edge of the meadow, Emma was filled with remorse. How could I be so stupid?
“You guys suck,” Jasmine gasped trying to catch her breath, her face pale, eyes wide but a smile still intact. “I almost died back there.”
“You lived,” Owen said, offering a shrug and making a face. “That’s the important part.”
Emma’s stomach twisted. She immediately turned Buster around and rode up to Jasmine. “I’m so sorry, Jasmine,” she said, her voice thick with guilt. “I didn’t even think. Are you okay? I—”
Jasmine cut her off with a smile, though she was still catching her breath. “Emma, it’s fine. Really. Travis just likes to keep things exciting.” She waved a hand, dismissing the incident. “Just maybe give me a heads-up next time before you and Owen race off into the sunset, okay?”
Emma’s shoulders sagged with relief. She had been so sure Jasmine would be mad, but now the tension eased, and she let out a nervous laugh. “Deal.”
* * * * * * * * * * *
As they continued back toward the barn at a walk, Emma couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt completely, but she was thankful Jasmine had forgiven her so easily. It had been so careless, and though Jasmine brushed it off, the nagging sense that she should have been more thoughtful lingered.
The morning sun was still high in the August sky, warming the trail as they walked the last stretch toward the barn. The horses, now calm and steady, moved fluidly beneath them, their heads lowered, enjoying the quiet. After that rush of excitement, the cool-down was peaceful, and Emma let herself breathe, glancing at Buster. He had done well, as always.
She gave his neck a gentle pat, feeling the dampness of sweat beneath her fingers. “You did good, boy,” she whispered. Even if she didn’t get too attached, she appreciated Buster’s reliability. His ears flicked back toward her, and tossed his head as if acknowledging her praise… but it was probably just a fly. Emma smiled, the tension still wrapped around her chest slightly easing.
By the time they reached the barn, the horses were warm and a little sweaty, especially under the saddles. The summer heat was starting to build, and Emma knew Buster needed a good hose-down. Jasmine led Travis into the barn, heading for the indoor wash stall down the left aisle, while Owen and Emma brought Cajun and Buster to the two outdoor wash stalls, which were lined with rubber mats and fenced on three sides. Emma clipped Buster into the cross ties and went over to retrieve the shared hose that hung between the outdoor stalls.
“These guys worked harder than I thought,” Owen said, running his hand along Cajun’s neck, “They look like they could use a swim more than a rinse.” His voice had the usual casual confidence, but when Emma glanced over, she noticed a relaxed ease in his posture.
Emma grinned, turning on the hose and starting to rinse Buster’s legs. “Yeah, poor Buster’s drenched.” She let the cool water flow over his dark bay coat, watching as dirt and sweat washed away in rivulets. When she reached the spot that had been under his saddle, the water mixed with the dried foam, creating a satisfying swirl of white as she scrubbed at the sweat marks with a sponge she had grabbed from the basket hanging on the fence.
“Good boy,” she murmured, gently patting his neck as he lowered his head, his muzzle pressing lightly against her shoulder in a way that always made her laugh. He wasn’t hers, but in moments like this, she couldn’t help but appreciate the trust they had developed.
Owen was in the adjacent wash stall, rubbing Cajun’s forehead, when he paused and gave her a crooked grin. “You gonna share that hose or what?” His light blue eyes sparkled with his usual teasing charm, the same look he always had when he was up to something.
Emma rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “Fine. Just let me just finish up with his back.”
She turned to rinse the last bit of sweat from Buster’s flank, her focus on making sure the water reached all the dried spots. The cool stream ran down his dark bay coat, washing away the dirt and leaving his glossy fur gleaming in the sunlight.
Once she was satisfied, Emma turned to hand the hose to Owen, but her boot snagged on it, and before she could even react, her foot slipped on some wet leaves scattered across the rubber mat. It all happened too fast—one moment she was standing, and the next, she was falling forward, a rush of panic making her heart leap into her throat. Her arms flailed out wildly, grasping at nothing, the ground rushing up to meet her.
“Whoa!” Owen’s voice rang out, sharp with surprise, and then his arms were around her, trying to catch her. But the force of her fall pulled them both off balance, and they tumbled to the ground in a tangled heap, landing with a wet, squelching thud in the mud beside the wash stall.
The sudden noise and movement startled the horses. Buster, the more dependable of the two, simply took a cautious step back, his head raising slightly, ears flicking toward the commotion. Cajun, on the other hand, tossed his head with a sharp snort, his hooves skittering on the rubber mat. His eyes watched nervously as he took a few sideways steps, muscles tense and ready to bolt.
Still lying in the mud, Owen turned his head toward Cajun, his voice steady and calm. “Easy. It’s okay boy. Nothing to worry about.” He stayed still, his hand held out in a reassuring gesture even as he lay there, half-submerged in the muck. Cajun hesitated, ears flicking back and forth before finally settling, his posture relaxing. Buster, already calm, simply blinked and looked away, as if deciding the whole situation wasn’t worth the energy to worry about.
Emma’s brain finally caught up to what had happened, her pulse racing from the scare. She hadn’t gotten hurt—relief washed over her, but it was rapidly replaced by the sharp realization of their position. She was sprawled across Owen, her hands planted awkwardly on his chest, and their faces were way too close. Her cheeks flamed, the heat of embarrassment rising faster than she could control.
But she froze for a split second as their eyes met. Owen’s bright blue eyes, just inches away, held hers, and there was something that made her heart skip and her breath catch. His grip on her shoulders loosened slightly, but he didn’t move. She felt a flutter in her stomach, the moment stretching out, and it hit her just how close they were, how his hand was still resting on her arm. Why wasn’t he letting go.
She could barely process his warmth seeped through her, the safety she felt in his grip, the way her heart pounded for a reason that had nothing to do with the fall. Her face burned even hotter, and as fast as she could pulled away, rolling over her own hands onto her side in her rush to get off him.
Owen propped himself up on his elbows, his brows furrowed with concern. “You okay?” he asked, his voice softer now, his eyes scanning her face for any sign of injury.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Emma mumbled, her voice high-pitched. She could feel the heat continuing to spread from her cheeks, the embarrassment settling in. She had never felt this clumsy in her life.
Owen’s lips twitched, a lopsided grin breaking through the concern as he pushed himself up to his knees. “Good, ‘cause that was quite the landing,” he teased, his voice light, but there was a flicker of relief in his eyes. “I didn’t realize you were planning on tackling me today.”
Emma’s cheeks burned even more, if that was possible, and she shot him a mortified look. “I didn’t— I mean, I wasn’t—” She shook her head, too flustered to form a coherent sentence. What was wrong with her?
Owen’s grin widened as he got to his feet, extending a hand to help her up. “You sure? ‘Cause if you wanted to wrestle in the mud, you could’ve just asked.” He said jokingly, trying to sound unphased.
Emma scowled, more at her own reaction than at him, and took his hand. As he pulled her up, she nearly slipped again, and Owen tightened his grip, steadying her as they both finally stood. She looked down at their mud-covered clothes, her once-clean black breeches now smeared with dark brown muck, and Owen’s shirt and pants splattered with wet mud. She caught his eye, and despite everything, they both cracked a smile.
Owen glanced down at himself, then back at her, a laugh bubbling up in his throat. “Well, we look like we’ve been mud-wrestling at a pig farm.”
Emma couldn’t help it. A giggle escaped her, and then they were both laughing, the sound ringing out through the wash stall, all the tension of the moment dissolving into shared amusement. “I’m so sorry!” Emma managed to gasp between laughs, wiping a muddy hand across her equally mud speckled face. “I can’t believe I took you down with me.”
“Yea well I didn’t realize a hose could take you down like that,” Owen added with a chuckle, his usual cocky attitude slipping back into place.
Emma gave a shaky laugh, feeling a little more like herself. “Yeah, well, hoses are sneakier than they look,” she replied, glancing over at Buster, who seemed thoroughly unimpressed by the whole ordeal. The gelding flicked his ears back, giving her a slow blink.
Owen turned his attention to Cajun, who was still watching them with a cautious eye. “You alright buddy?” he asked, his voice softening as he reached out to rub the gelding’s neck. Cajun let out an audible breath, but didn’t shy away, his muscles gradually relaxing under Owen’s touch.
Emma watched as Owen soothed his horse, his voice a steady murmur of reassurance.
With a sigh, she picked up the sweat scraper and began clearing the water off Buster’s coat. The gelding shifted slightly under her touch, his muscles twitching as the cool metal slid down his sides. Emma found herself lost in the familiar routine, which helped her steady her racing thoughts.
“I really am sorry, though,” she said after a moment, glancing back at Owen. “I didn’t mean to drag you into that… literally.”
Owen chuckled. “Nah, it was worth it. Never a dull moment with you, Emma.” His tone was light, teasing.
She rolled her eyes, trying to brush it off. “Yeah, well, I’ll try to keep things less exciting from now on.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” He shot her a quick, sideways glance, his eyes catching hers for just a beat longer than usual. It was a look that made her feel like he could see right through her, like he knew exactly what she was thinking.
Emma looked away quickly. She finished with the sweat scraper and hung it back in the basket, taking a deep breath to steady herself. Owen was just being Owen—teasing, lighthearted. That’s all it was. And she was just… overthinking things.
Unclipping Buster from the cross ties, she gave the gelding a final pat on the neck. “Alright, big guy, let’s get you back.”
As she led Buster through the barn, the clinking of hooves on concrete, matching her own steps.
She grabbed a peppermint from the treat bin by the door, smiling at the way Buster’s ears pricked forward as soon as he heard the crinkle of the wrapper in her hand.
As Emma continued to lead Buster through the barn, Owen was finishing up with Cajun and unclipping him from the cross ties.
She then noticed the sound of water running and glanced toward the indoor wash stall. Jasmine was there, rinsing the suds off Travis’s coat. The Chincoteague pony stood quietly, water streaming down his back as Jasmine turned, eyes widening when she saw Emma covered in mud.
“Whoa, Em!” Jasmine called out, clearly trying to hold back her laughter. “What happened? Decide to try cooling down Buster with mud instead of water?”
Emma gave her a look, not ready to relive the embarrassment just yet. “Yeah, something like that,” she muttered.
Jasmine’s grin softened as she took in Emma’s flustered expression. “You okay, though? You’re not hurt, right?”
Emma shook her head, managing a small smile. “I’m fine. Just tripped over the hose, slipped on some leaves, and, well… you know the rest.”
Jasmine’s gaze shifted to Owen, who was trailing behind, his clothes just as muddy. She raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching. “Guess you decided to take Owen down with you?”
Emma’s cheeks flamed. “It wasn’t like that! I just slipped and—” She glanced at Owen, searching for support.
Owen shrugged, smiling, “Hey, I was just trying to save her. Didn’t expect us both to end up in the mud.”
Jasmine laughed, shaking her head. “Sure, sure. Whatever you say.” She gave Emma a playful nudge. “Just glad you’re okay, even if you did make a complete mess of yourself.”
Emma abruptly turned her focus to Buster. “Ah well…I’ve gotta turn Buster out,” she mumbled, trying to escape before they made her blush any more. “After all, the poor boy is patiently waiting for his treat.”
“Good idea,” Jasmine called after her, her voice laced with amusement. “Just watch out for those sneaky hoses, there may be some roaming by the paddocks!”
Owen chuckled as Emma started walking away. “Just so you know,” Owen called out, his voice warm but teasing, “I don’t usually let people take me down that easily.”
Emma glanced back, raising an eyebrow with a smirk. “Guess I’m just special.”
He laughed softly in response, but there was a softness in his gaze that made her pulse quicken.
“Seriously, though,” Owen added, his voice low and genuine, “I’m glad you’re okay.”
Emma’s heart gave a strange little flutter at the sincerity in his tone. She nodded almost too fast, her face still warm. “Yeah, me too. Thanks.”
She turned away again, unsure of what to do with the unexpected rush of feelings.
Whatever was happening between them, she didn’t want to think about it just yet.
_________________________
Emma made her way outside, where the paddocks stretched out before her, separated by sturdy wooden fences.
The lesson horses’ paddock, larger and more spacious, was at the far end, still dotted with piles of hay Emma had spread earlier. The grass was sparse, worn down by the constant grazing of the school horses, leaving more bare patches than green.
Buster’s halter clinked softly as Emma led him toward the gate. Nearby, Maple and Chester were already there, heads down, lazily chewing the hay while Blue and Honey stood together, swishing their tails as they explored the new piles.
The boarder paddocks were smaller and neatly arranged off to the side, each one housing either a single horse or a pair, each paddock had its own pile of hay laid out.
Emma unlatched the gate to the lesson paddock and led Buster inside. The moment she took off halter, he stood still, ears flicking back as he waited patiently. She pulled the peppermint from her pocket, holding it out on her open palm. Buster’s soft lips brushed against her hand as he took the treat gently, and made some crunching noises before he turned and trotted toward the nearest hay pile, his steady stride carrying him effortlessly across the dusty paddock.
Off in the distance, Emma noticed Molly working with one of the project horses in the round pen, and Emma noticed how skillfully Molly got the horse listening to the different things she was asking him, despite his obvious nervousness.
Molly finished up in the round pen and walked over, leading the tall, sleek project horse by the lead rope. Her eyes widened slightly as she took in their mud-covered clothes. “What on earth happened? Did you take a detour through a swamp?” she asked, amusement and concern mingling in her voice.
Emma felt her cheeks flush. “No, nothing like that,” she said quickly, shooting a glance at Owen, who was now coming back from letting Cajun out in his paddock. “We, uh, had a little incident with the hose after the trail ride. Let’s just say I got a bit… tangled up.”
Owen nodded, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, Emma’s got a real talent for taking down more than just jump poles.”
Molly chuckled, relief visible on her face. “Well, I’m glad you’re both in one piece. I thought for a second you’d taken a tumble on the trail.”
“The trail ride was amazing, though,” Emma added, her voice brightening. “Thank you so much for setting that up as a birthday surprise. It was way better than doing barn work all morning.”
Molly’s smile softened. “I’m glad you had a good time. You deserve it, Emma.”
“Travis had some strong opinions about crossing the stream,” Emma continued with a laugh, “but Jasmine handled it like a pro.”
Owen nodded. “Yeah, and no one got bucked off, so that’s a win.”
“That pony certainly knows how to keep things interesting,” Molly said with a knowing smile. She nodded toward the dark bay horse she was leading. “I’m going to hose this guy off and put him away. He’s still convinced the world’s out to get him, but he’s getting there.”
“Thanks again, Molly. It really made my day,” Emma said sincerely, feeling the warmth of gratitude spread through her.
Molly waved as she headed toward the barn, the project horse hesitating briefly before following her lead, his steps tentative but trusting. Emma let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding, grateful for the morning’s adventure and the memories made despite some of the awkwardness.
______________________________
Back inside the barn, Emma grabbed her troxel helmet which had seen better days, her water bottle and phone. Her mom would be here soon to pick her up. She did her best to get the mud off.
Jasmine had just turned Travis out and was heading back inside. “I’m gonna stay a little while longer,” she said, grabbing the pitchfork from the wall near Travis’s stall. “Mom’s running late, and I figured I’d keep busy by cleaning his stall. It gives me something to do while I wait.”
“I can help if you want.” Emma said with a smile.
“Nah, it’s okay,” Jasmine replied, shaking her head. “It’s your birthday! Go relax.”
Emma appreciated Jasmine’s offer, knowing she meant it. She wandered back toward the barn’s entrance looking out for her mom, as Owen came out of the tack room.
“My brother’s almost here,” Owen said, leaning against the door frame casually. “Figure I’ll hang out with you while I wait… you know, just in case you need saving from any more incidents with farm equipment.”
Emma shot him a mock glare, trying to pretend she was mad, a blush creeping up her cheeks. “You’re never letting that go, are you?”
Owen chuckled softly, his grin coming back. “Not a chance.”
Jasmine called out from Travis’s stall, her voice full of humor. “Next time, Emma, maybe you should wrap your whole body up in the hose first before handing it over!”
“Hey I didn’t notice my foot was caught… seriously… You two are the worst.” Emma groaned, burying her face in her hands for a moment.
Jasmine laughed, the sound echoing through the barn. “Hey, you provided some solid entertainment today. What else do you expect?”
Shaking her head, Emma smiled. “Anyways!… Thanks again for spending the morning with me, and for the gifts,” she said sincerely, looking between them. “It was a really great birthday.”
Jasmine grinned, wiping some hay off her hands. “Of course! Wouldn’t miss it. We’re best friends Emma, it’s kind of required.”
Owen nodded, his smile a bit softer now. “Plus, someone had to make sure your birthday wasn’t boring.”
Emma felt a jolt of nervous energy when she caught Owen’s eye. She quickly averted her gaze, busying herself with brushing off imaginary dust from her helmet, her pulse still racing.
Just then, the rumble of a car pulling into the barn’s driveway drew their attention. Owen’s older brother, Luke, was here. Owen pushed himself off the wall he was leaning on, giving a quick wave. “That’s my ride,” he said, glancing between Emma and Jasmine. “See you guys later, and Emma—try not to trip over anything else, okay?”
Emma shot him a look but couldn’t help smiling. “Bye, Owen.”
Jasmine waited until Owen was out of earshot before turning to Emma with a teasing grin. “So, something’s going on there, right? You and Owen? It felt… different today,” she said, raising an eyebrow.
Emma felt her face heat up. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she mumbled, trying to play it off as casually as she could.
Jasmine didn’t press further, but the look in her eyes said she wasn’t convinced. “Mmm-hmm,” she hummed with a smirk.
Emma grabbed her things, shifting the conversation. “I’ll see you at the barn before school starts,” she said, giving Jasmine one last wave. “And thanks again—for everything.”
“Definitely,” Jasmine replied, her grin still playful. “And don’t forget—you’re officially the queen of hose disasters now.”
Emma groaned but couldn’t help laughing. “I’m never going to hear the end of that, am I?”
“Not a chance,” Jasmine said, flashing her a wide smile before heading back toward Travis’s stall.
With everything wrapped up, Emma finally headed toward the driveway, her jeans stiff and uncomfortable with dried mud. As soon as she slid into the passenger seat of her mom’s SUV, her mom’s eyes widened with concern, taking in the state of her clothes.
“Oh my gosh, Emma! What happened? Did you fall off?” she asked, her voice a mix of worry and surprise.
Emma shook her head quickly, forcing a reassuring smile. “No, nothing like that. I just had a bit of a mishap with the hose,” she explained, brushing off some of the dried mud from her sleeves. “I slipped, and well… I got a little up close and personal with the wash stall.”
Her mom sighed, relief evident on her face as she pulled out of the barn driveway. “As long as you’re okay. You had me worried for a second there.”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Emma assured her, turning her gaze out the window.
“Well did you have fun at least?” her mom asked, turning to look at her briefly before pulling out of the barn driveway.
“Actually, the morning was great. Molly let us go on a trail ride for my birthday instead of doing barn work. It was really fun.” She tried to keep her voice light, but the weight of the week’s disappointments still lingered, dulling the edges of her enthusiasm.
“I’m glad,” her mom said softly, glancing over at her briefly before focusing back on the road. “It sounds like you needed that.”
Emma nodded, watching the green pastures blur by, her thoughts drifting back to the trail ride and the gifts from Owen and Jasmine. It had been a good day, better than she’d expected. But there was still that hollow ache, a reminder of the argument with her dad earlier in the week. We can’t afford a horse, Emma. It’s just not possible. His words echoed in her mind, dampening the bright spots of the day.
She glanced back at her mom, hoping the familiar sound of her voice would pull her out of her thoughts. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was still missing, even though she didn’t quite know what it was.
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The smell of freshly baked cake greeted Emma as soon as she walked through the door, and she barely had time to step inside before her dad’s voice filled the kitchen.
“Happy birthday, biscuit!” he called out, his wide grin fading slightly as his eyes took in her mud-covered clothes. “What on earth happened? Did you fall off?”
Emma quickly raised her hands, preempting any further concern. “I’m fine! I didn’t fall off, I promise. Just a wash stall incident,” she said, brushing off some dried mud from her sleeve. Her dad’s expression shifted from worry to relief, and she could see Maggie and Adam trying not to laugh from the other side of the room.
“Well, as long as you’re okay,” her dad said.
Emma shook her head with a grin. “No need to worry. I’m just as clumsy as usual, but the trail ride was a lot of fun.”
“Glad to hear it,” her dad said, his smile returning as he crossed the kitchen and pulled her into a hug, squeezing her tight before handing her a carefully wrapped gift. “Go on, open it!”
Emma’s heart swelled as she tore off the wrapping paper, revealing a sparkly skull cap with a turquoise helmet cover and a pom-pom on top. She blinked, the breath catching in her throat. “Oh my gosh, this is perfect!” she exclaimed, her voice filled with genuine gratitude. After everything that had happened, she hadn’t expected something like this.
Her mom stepped forward, a warm smile on her face as she handed over another box. “We thought you might need this too.”
Emma carefully peeled back the paper to find a sleek, high-quality black body protector. Her jaw dropped as she ran her fingers over the protective padding, the significance of the gifts sinking in. They believed in her—maybe not in the way she had hoped, but in a way that still meant so much.
“We figured it might come in handy for when you start tackling more competitions,” her mom added, her smile soft but proud.
Emma’s eyes stung with emotion as she looked between her parents. “I love it. Really, thank you. This means so much to me,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.
Her dad’s smile softened, a mix of care and regret in his eyes. “We know how hard you’ve been working, Emma. We just want to see you safe and happy.”
Maggie and Adam stepped forward next, Maggie handing her a horse-themed novel with a wink, and Adam grinning as he passed her a bag of horse treats. “For your someday horse,” he teased with a grin. “Or, you know, to bribe the lesson horses in the meantime.”
Emma laughed and hugged them both, feeling lighter than she had all day. No, there wasn’t a surprise horse waiting for her in the backyard, but that was okay. The gifts, the love, and the support of her family and friends—it all reminded her that her dream wasn’t gone. It was just something she’d have to work for, piece by piece.
“Alright, Miss Mud Monster,” her dad teased, glancing at the dried mud still caked on her clothes. “I think before you enjoy any cake, you might want to hit the shower.”
Emma chuckled, glancing down at herself. “Yeah, probably a good idea.”
“Definitely a good idea,” Maggie added with a grin. “I don’t know how you can stand being that dirty.”
Emma rolled her eyes good-naturedly, giving her a playful nudge. “It’s not that bad.”
Adam laughed, shaking his head. “Says the girl who looks like she’s been rolling around in a swamp.”
“Okay, okay, I get it!” Emma said, throwing her hands up in mock surrender. “I’m going, I’m going.”
As the evening quieted down, Emma stood by her bedroom window, the fading light casting a soft glow over the fields outside. The day had begun with a flicker of hope, a wish for some unexpected miracle. And while she hadn’t come home to a horse, she had gained something much more important—a sense of clarity and a renewed determination.
Her thoughts drifted back to the morning at the barn, to Jasmine’s laughter echoing through the woods after Travis’s wild leap over the puddle, and then to the moment she and Owen had crashed into the mud together. She could still feel the warmth of his arms around her as he tried to catch her, the way they’d ended up tangled on the ground, laughing like idiots. That strange, nervous flutter returned, just for a moment, as she remembered how close they’d been, his teasing smile, the look in his eyes. But no. It was just Owen. ‘Just a friend.’ She reminded herself.
The day had been filled with joy and friendship, more than she could have asked for.
Her heart wasn’t weighed down with disappointment anymore. And Emma made a decision. Tomorrow, she thought, her mind clear and focused. Tomorrow, I will start making my dream happen.
As Emma lay down that night, the weight of the week slowly melted away. She knew now that her dream wasn’t something to passively wait for—it was something she would build, one step at a time.
