Running Wild

didn’t feel in a position to support himself with a vegetable garden, no matter how big it was. On top of that, the drive needed grading, the septic tank needed upgrading, and God knows if the house’s wiring was up to code. His father was very concerned about the latter and had brought smoke alarms to be installed. Don’t want you going up in flames, son.
    Seamus sighed. He should sell. Yet he found himself rejecting the idea, at least in the short term.
If only he didn’t think of those fathomless eyes and that lean, wary body. Or perhaps it was the touch of desperation that arrested Seamus’s attention so thoroughly.
You’re spending too much time by yourself, honey , his mother had said. Seamus’s first reaction had been, I wish . But despite weird late-night visits from Ri, he was usually on his own. While he wasn’t the most social guy in the world, he didn’t know if he could spend ninety-nine point nine percent of his life alone either.
When that damned black horse made its arrival hours later at midday, summoning Seamus with its loud and demanding whinny, Seamus was out the back door like a shot.
“Your servant,” he said wryly to the horse, this time having snatched up a couple of apples as he’d left the kitchen.
The horse blew out a breath. In greeting, Seamus thought. It ate up the apples in no time and proceeded to blow all over Seamus, as if making sure he was all right.
Seamus had to laugh, and it felt like the first time in weeks he’d laughed. “Do you know you’re my one sane visitor? I’ve got one guy who flits in and out of the place like it’s his. I’ve got parents who want to bring me back to Winnipeg like I’m once again a scared nineteen-year-old. And I’ve got you, a wild horse, who arrives and leaves on whims I’ll never understand.”
The horse moved around, so Seamus was leaning against his shoulder.
“Remember when I rode you, a long time ago? Only you and I know what happened that night. Or maybe only you know, since that night left me fucked in the head and wondering if I was delusional.” Seamus patted the beast. “Not a nice feeling, I can tell you. I spent the next months living on nerves.” Thank God that had faded with time and the new university routine.
The horse whinnied, and Seamus developed the fanciful idea it wanted him to ride it. He hooked an arm around its withers and waited to see how it reacted to his weight.
Like seven years ago, it stood stock-still.
Seamus couldn’t resist, though he should. He was too old for this, and there was no one he needed to escape today.
“I haven’t ridden in ages, I’ll have you know. Not since the last time. On you. That night may have led to a little horse-riding avoidance, to be honest. It’s time to fix that, right?” He leaned as much as he could on the horse’s back to gauge its reaction.
It didn’t move. It was clearly waiting for him. Someone had trained it at some point in the past, despite Zachariah’s insistence it was wild and only wild. Seamus didn’t think further. He just did it, pulled himself up, and this time he didn’t flail. Funny what being calm and not under duress could do for you.
He smiled at the feel of the horse beneath him, powerful, warm, all muscle and speed when it wanted. He patted its shoulder. “Hey, stud. Look at this, I’m sitting up here, and you’re as tame as can be. I’m not sure about you being one of the wild ones. Maybe I need to set up a stall for you and keep you safe. If nothing else, you must find the winters harsh.”
It blew out air in a manner that sounded like a harrumph .
Seamus stroked that black neck. “Anywhere in particular you want to go?”
On cue, the horse took off at a trot, which required some skill to stay on while bareback, bumpy gait that it was. Seamus forgot about any banter with the creature and concentrated on not toppling over. Before long, though, Black broke into a canter, a much smoother ride, and they were going through the fields and into the woods down an even path. Seamus found he was grinning for all he was worth. At one point he shouted with joy, the wind on his face, this strong, fantastic creature underneath him, carrying him away from his worries for half an hour until the horse stopped.
They walked back home while Seamus patted it, saying he had to get water before it left, given the sweat on its back and neck. He couldn’t keep the dopey grin off his face—it was just him and this horse, no cares in the