long after dusk deepens to night. My days are mine to fill as I please and I’m ready for an adventure.
“Okay, Knight, do you trust me enough to be good?” I reach down and pat the side of his neck. He gives a rumbly nicker, a low vibration coming from his throat which says he’s excited. I lead him through the gate of the small enclosure we’ve been running around the past few days and he prances with excitement. Giving a sharp snort, he can’t wait to stretch his legs.
I’m comfortable enough with the lay of the land to head out on my own. Navigating a vineyard is easy compared to a forest trail. Knight and I are off and ready for an adventure.
He’s excited to be out of the barn.
I’m excited to be away from buildings.
We’re perfectly matched.
And the vineyards are nothing short of breathtaking. The vines sit heavy with grapes. They’re so tempting. I want to reach out and snag a cluster, but hold back. I tried a grape a few days ago and wine grapes are nothing like supermarket grapes. I spat it out with a grimace while Brody and Cage laughed their asses off. They’re not here to make fun of me today, but I learned my lesson.
The burnt fields are sobering. Knight slows, making me think he knows something bad happened here. A horse’s sense of smell is greater than a human’s, as is their fear of fire. He gives a little whiney, shakes his head, and snorts, all while stamping at the ground.
“It’s okay, boy.” I give another pat, trying to soothe him. Fortunately, he likes the sound of my voice and calms down.
We reach the end of the burnt field where I briefly consider heading back home. But there are still a few hours left before I lose the light. My curiosity is at an all-time high and I know exactly where I want to go.
Pretty certain I can find my way, I do a quick search on my phone for the trailhead. I’m right. It’s less than a mile down the road.
“How about a little climb, boy? You up for a nice, long walk?”
With a snort, he stamps at the ground again.
I take this for a yes and guide him to the trailhead. He doesn’t need my assistance, however, and seems to know exactly where to go. That’s when it dawns on me that this must be where Asher takes his La Rouge Stables clients on what he fondly refers to as his plodding mares.
I assume Knight is very well acquainted with the trail and let him have the lead while I sit back and enjoy the day.
It doesn’t take long before we pass familiar landmarks. That outcropping of boulders is where I took Prescott’s call. They’re one of the only things I recognize. The forest I hiked through is nothing but the charred skeletal remains of what used to be a breathtaking wilderness.
We round a bend and I peer around the curve. Right where I expect it to be is the fire pit with its rocks. Everything is covered in black soot and char marks.
There’s hope, however. It’s been a few weeks since the fire, and it’s impressive to see a burst of new life. Green shoots poke through the charred dirt. Even in fire and devastation, nature is resilient, creating new life from the ashes of old.
That’s what I wish for myself, to be able to rise from the ashes of my previous life and become something new. I’m more certain now than ever before that I don’t want to return to my previous vapid life of a socialite. I’m much more than the number of zeros found in my bank account.
I’m on a mission, eager to find the remnants of my cellphone. Concerned about my missing revolver, I climb down from Knight’s back and hobble him while I stretch my legs. It’s been well over a year since I’ve ridden a horse, and years since I’ve sat in the saddle for that long. I’m going to be sore when the morning comes.
Knight paws at the soil and nibbles at new shoots of grass. They must taste especially sweet, because he seems to be enjoying himself. I place my hands on my hips and take a moment to simply take it all in.
It’s too quiet and nothing like the blazing inferno I woke to. Impossible to stop myself, I trace an imaginary line from the fire ring to the edge