Don't You Trust Me? by Patrice Kindl Page B

inferior to the lesser animals when it came to figuring me out. Having made her mind up about me, Bounce was ignoring what her own horse was trying to tell her. Not that it mattered. My feelings toward Chessie were perfectly friendly, so long as she did what I told her to do.
    â€œPerhaps you could show me your canter,” Bounce was beginning, to my dismay, as I couldn’t quite remember what a canter was, when she interrupted herself. “No, we haven’t any time, sorry. I’ve got some more students arriving in about fifteen minutes, and we’ll need to show Brooke how to see to her horse after a ride. Next week we’ll have a look at your canter. I’ve no doubt we’llhave you galloping and jumping in no time, if you haven’t already mastered those skills.”
    Modestly I denied any knowledge of these evidently more advanced forms of riding.
    â€œUh-huh,” said Bounce, smiling. “Like you’ve only ridden ‘ some .’ ”
    Chessie was reluctant to share the close confines of a stall with me while I brushed her, but I fixed her with another Do as I say stare, and she consented, heaving an obvious sigh of relief as I left and flipped the latch down on the door.
    â€œBye, Chessie,” I said aloud. “See you next week.”
    She snorted. Not if I see you first, seemed to be her response.
    In the next stall Brooke was still fussing over Miss Delilah. “What great big brown eyes you have, Miss Delilah dear,” she crooned as she smoothed the horse’s forelock. Honestly, it was like a little girl brushing her dolly’s hair. She finally put down the currycomb and emerged from the stall.
    We had both, it seemed, substantially changed our opinions about horseback riding.
    â€œDo you know, I thought it would be much easier,” Brooke confided. “I mean, I figured, how hard could it be? I assumed it would be like sitting on a moving sofa. But I think I’m getting it. You , of course, were wonderful! I know your dad said you were pretty good, but wow!You could tell that Ms. Bunce was impressed.”
    And I was far more favorably inclined to the exercise than I thought I’d be. Making a large, powerful creature like that obey me with nothing more than the force of my personality was a real kick. In- tox -icating, as Brooke would say.
    â€œGood-bye, girls!” Bounce looked up and waved to us from where she was greeting the new students. “Morgan, be sure to explain to Brooke what she can expect to be feeling for the next few days, won’t you?”
    I said “Um-hmm” in return and waved.
    â€œWhat did she mean?” demanded Brooke as she seated herself at the wheel of the Miata. “Wow, I sure am tired! Who’d have thought that riding a horse for an hour would be so exhausting! What is it that I can expect to be feeling for the next few days?”
    Since I hadn’t the foggiest idea, I contented myself with a mysterious smile.
    â€œWait and see,” I said, and no matter how much Brooke begged for information, I stood my ground and refused to say another word on the subject.

7
    THE NEXT MORNING I WOKE in agony. Muscles I had not even known existed throbbed and ached in my back, my arms, and my stomach. But mostly, my inner thighs were on fire. I groaned as I turned over in bed.
    A knock came on my bedroom door. “Yaghwah?” I muttered in response, struggling to come to a seated position.
    A hunched and broken figure shuffled in through the doorway. “Is this,” the figure whispered, “what she meant?”
    â€œWhat who meant?” I demanded, having managed to sit up in my bed.
    â€œMs. Bunce. She told you to warn me about what to expect I’dbe feeling in the next few days.”
    Oh, right. The hunched, pathetic figure was Brooke. And we were both apparently experiencing the same misery of sore muscles after our first hour astride a horse. Only she was not