Page 116 of We Drank the Dawn

My muscles tightened, as if to mount, but I never left the ground.

My heart thumped against my ribcage.

Man, I didn’t want to do this.

Three…two…one.

Nothing. This time, my muscles froze in fear. I didn’t want to look stupid in front of everyone, but here I was, unable to even get my foot off the ground. I tried to laugh but it sounded as desperate as I felt. Speaking softly so only Tag could hear, I said, “I…don’t know if I can do this.”

He didn’t respond, which aggravated me.

I wanted someone to end the tension, someone to say, “You know what, Peter? Nevermind. You’re pathetic and you should quit while you’re ahead.”

But I wouldn’t have any such luck, would I?

Jesse piped up. “In the wisdom of John Wayne, ‘Courage is being scared senseless but saddling up anyway.’”

John Wayne wasn’t even a real cowboy.

“Why don’t you just stand up?” Tag said. “Don’t even worry about gettin’ your leg up and over. Just stand in the stirrup a few times until you get the feel of that.”

I stood three times, and on the third time, my foot slipped out and hit the dust.

“You know,” Cooper’s voice quipped from behind me. “Your wife got this in one try.”

“Coop.” I could almost hear Tag rolling his eyes. “That’s not helpful.”

Cooper gave a tsk of mock disappointment. “She hardly even listened to my instructions either. Just mounted like an absolute badass.”

I gave an indigent snort as an unbidden smile lifted my cheeks. I wouldn’t expect anything less from my wife. “Sounds like her.”

“She was pissed that day though,” Cooper added.

“Don’t remind me.”

“I’m tempted to take a video of you struggling and send it to her. Might heal her a little bit.”

That made Jesse laugh but Tag chided him. “Cooper, just shut up, would ya?”

Everyone fell silent again and I gave myself another countdown, aloud this time.

“Three…two…one.”

Motivated by the idea of video evidence, I heaved my body upward and leaned over the horn, simultaneously swinging my leg across her back. A chorus of “good jobs” and “there ya gos” filled the air. My heart lifted in excitement until Lady May shifted her hooves, lurching me to the side.

In a flash of panic, I curled my body over the horn, one hand grabbing Lady’s mane, the other clutching the saddle for dear life. I needed to reach down and find the fender on the other side so I could guide my foot into the stirrup, but that would require letting go of something.

My breaths rattled in my chest, and I knew I looked ridiculous, tangled up in Lady’s mane, but my muscles went offline as fear took the reins.

The ground felt so far away.

Briefly, I wondered if I was supposed to be wearing a helmet, and what would happen to my brain if I hit my head again. No one came to my aid as Tag gently coached, “When you feel like you can, find that other stirrup to help you stabilize.”

Slowly, I reached down, the pads of my fingers following the etched designs until the fender was in my grasp. I turned it and the stirrup bounced against Lady’s side. Fumbling much longer than I should have, I finally directed my toe in.

“Alright,” Tag said. “Now, sit up.”

Tightening my shaky core, I slowly unraveled my death grip on Lady’s mane and pushed myself into an upright position, forcing myself to take a breath.