I sniffled, my heart breaking at the crack in her voice. I pulled her to me, wrapping my arms around her as she broke on a sob. “We’re going to find her, okay? I promise. I’ll keep looking for her.”
“But what if she doesn’t come back?” she cried into my shirt, soaking the fabric.
Was I supposed to tell her she would? I couldn’t make promises to her that I couldn’t keep.
“We’ll find her,” I said, doing my best to keep the waver out of my voice.
We had to find her, for Avery’s sake and mine. I hated seeing her upset. If only I had been faster and shut the door, this all could have been avoided.
If we didn’t find her cat, it’d break me as much as it was breaking her right now.
11
Callan
Christopher, one of my students, hopped off the lesson horse while his mother and little sister stood from their bench and made their way to the gate of the arena to meet us.
“Do you think one day I can try cutting?” Christopher asked as we walked side by side through the sand, the horse following behind him.
I reached over to pat the top of his helmet. “Maybe once your balance is a little better.”
Some kids just simply liked to ride, but others wanted to try various things like cutting, roping, and barrel racing. I was no rodeo teacher, and while I knew how to do those types of things, I wasn’t a specialist in any of them. I helped take care of the rescues, the cattle, and taught my clients how to ride. My routine was simple, at least to me, and I liked it that way.
“How long do you think?” he questioned.
Unlatching the gate, I swung it wide for him and the horse to walk through. “I’ll let you know once I’m confident.”
“How was your lesson, sweetie?” Christopher’s mom asked as he walked past her.
“Good like it is every week, Mom,” he replied dryly with an eye roll, heading for the barn.
I closed the gate behind me as Christopher’s little sister, Annie, made hearts with the tip of her finger in the dirt by her mom’s feet.
I gave his mother a closed-lip smile and turned to follow Christopher when she laid a hand on my arm, stopping me. “How’s he doing?”
I could reply the same way as Christopher, I supposed. But I was too polite for that. “He’s doing great.”
“Better than the others his age?” she pried with a flutter of her abnormally long eyelashes. They had to be fake.
I swallowed, biting the inside of my cheek. It was like a broken record with her. Every week, she tried to get me to say he was better than the rest. Each one of my students was unique and I enjoyed teaching them all for various reasons, but none of them were better than the others. They were all at different levels, and comparing them wasn’t fair.
That was the problem with the “horse world.” People thought too highly of themselves and compared themselves to every other equestrian out there. But it wasn’t a comparison game. We should all lift each other up, give each other pointers; not tear each other down because someone’s seat wasn’t as exact as the next person’s.
That was the environment I was trying to create here on this ranch. No judgment, no expectations. Just ride because you want to ride, and do it safely.
“He’s right where he needs to be,” I answered.
She dropped her hand, shooting me a flirty smile. “I knew you were the best teacher around.”
I gave her a tight nod. “Thank you. I have to go check on him and then I’ll send him back out.”
“Will you come say goodbye?”
My teeth worked on the skin in my mouth like they were about to tear it clean off. “I have another lesson in five minutes. I’ll see Christopher next week, same time.”
Her face fell a little, but she quickly covered it up with another flash of teeth. “Same time.”
I turned, heading toward the barn where Christopher had disappeared. Bailey was stacking hay under the carport when he straightened, pulling his gloves off. His shirt was stained with sweat and dirt, his cowboy hat tossed to the side.
“You okay?” Bailey asked with a furrowed brow.
I heaved a sigh, oxygen filling my tight lungs. “Never better.”
He tossed the gloves on the bale beside him and wiped the sweat off his forehead with a bandana. “It’s no secret the moms drool all over you while you teach their kids, you know that, right?”
“I’m well aware.”
“So why do you let it affect you?”
I crossed my arms. “Does this look like it’s affecting me?”
He shoved the bandana in the back pocket of his jeans. “Sure as hell does. You’ve got your emotions written all over your face, Cal.”
“Am I supposed to like them flirting with me while I instruct their kids how to ride a thousand-pound animal?”
“No. But maybe don’t show them how flustered you get when they do it.”
“I’m not flustered. I just don’t like all the attention.”
