After the Fall

didn’t speak.
    Ryan took a deep breath, and finally met my eyes again. He touched my face, drawing a gentle arc across my cheekbone with his thumb. “Tucker Springs isn’t ‘home.’ But I wanted to—want to—stay here because I feel like . . . anywhere I’m with you could be home.”
    My heart skipped. “Ryan . . .”
    He touched my face and kissed me tenderly. “I love you, Nathan.”
    Tears stung my eyes as I pulled him to me for another kiss. “I love you too.” I brushed my lips across his. “I’m sorry. For—”
    “Don’t.” He raised his chin and kissed my forehead. “It’s done.”
    “I didn’t mean to hurt you, though. I just need you to know that.”
    Ryan nodded, smiling down at me. “I know. I understand.” He leaned down and kissed my cheek. “But you’re back now. That’s the part that matters.”
    “Yes, I am.” I smoothed his damp hair. “And so are you.”
    “I am.” He grinned. “So, does this mean I can talk you into giving me a few more riding lessons?”
    “I don’t think you need lessons, to tell you the truth.”
    “Hmm. Okay, how about just riding?”
    Glaring at him playfully, I asked, “Are you using me to get to my horse?”
    He batted his eyes. “What can I say? I missed Tsarina.” Leaning in to kiss me, he added, “I missed both of you.”
    “Pretty sure she missed you too. It’ll be good for her anyway. I still can’t ride yet.”
    “Still?” Three creases appeared on his forehead. “Isn’t your leg healed?”
    “It is, but all the muscles atrophied, and nothing wants to bend the way it’s supposed to yet.” I grinned. “But for the time being, there are worse things to suffer through than watching you riding my horse.”
    He chuckled. “So we have a deal?”
    “Yes, we do.” I glanced at the clock beside his bed. “And it’s still early. We could go down to the barn.”
    “Maybe.” He ran his fingers through my wet hair. “Or we could go tomorrow.”
    “We could.”
    “In the meantime, you want to stay here tonight?”
    I trailed the tip of my thumb along the edge of his goatee. “You want me to?”
    Ryan smiled. “I’d be perfectly happy if you never left again.”
    “Careful what you wish for.”
    He laughed and kissed me gently. “I know exactly what I’m wishing for.”
    I said nothing. I just pulled him into a lazy, warm embrace, and kissed him again.
    I had every intention of staying.
    Deep down, I hoped he really did too.

I’d never been this nervous around a horse. Never. I was born for the saddle, and I’d had a fearless streak a mile wild ever since my mom leased me that devil pony for 4-H when I was a kid.
    Facing Tsarina this time, I was nervous as hell.
    The cast had been off for a few weeks now, but the doctor had advised me to stay out of the saddle until I’d regained some strength in my atrophied leg. So I’d visited the physical therapist’s chamber of horrors twice a week. I’d also had acupuncture treatments from Mike to stimulate both my hand and my leg.
    Now, I could walk with a very minimal limp, and though my hand got tired if I wrote or typed for too long, at least I could use it again. For all intents and purposes, I had made a full recovery, and I’d be fine from here on out.
    Assuming I didn’t do something stupid. Like, say, take another tumble with my horse.
    Ryan put a hand on my shoulder. “You don’t have to do it today. I can keep riding her until you’re ready.”
    I scowled playfully at him. “You just want her all to yourself.”
    He laughed and shrugged. “Okay, so I do. But”—the laughter vanished—“really, if you’re not ready, don’t push yourself.”
    “No, I can do this.” I patted Tsarina’s shoulder. “I guess now I know where the expression comes from about getting back on the horse that threw you.” I stroked her neck. Her coat was already getting that extra fluffy layer in preparation for a Colorado winter, further proof that the summer she and I were supposed to spend on the trails had come to an end.
    “You’ll be fine.” Ryan kissed my cheek. “As long as no rogue motorcycles wander in here.”
    I laughed. “Very funny.”
    He chuckled.
    “Okay.” I took a deep breath and gathered the reins. I held the stirrup steady and put my foot in it. My leg muscles objected but not too emphatically.
    I paused for another breath, for a moment of “okay, I can do this,” and then I gritted my teeth and pulled myself up. The muscles protested a bit