How My Summer Went Up in Flames

by Doktorski, Jennifer Salvato

“Seriously?” My eyes and nose burn with happy tears, and for few seconds, that’s all I can manage to say. Finally, I clear my throat and speak.

  “Thank you, guys. This is awesome.”

  If I had known, I would have worn the cowgirl tank I bought in Nashville. It seems like that was a month ago. We drive down the long dirt road leading to the horse ranch. Logan parks near the barn and we all get out of the car.

  “This one is on me,” Logan says, and reaches for his wallet.

  • • •

  I am positively giddy and have to restrain myself from jumping up and down when I see my horse emerge from the barn with the rancher. She is beautiful, just like the copper-colored pair I saw on the ridge in Virginia. She has a diamond-shaped white spot between her deep brown eyes and her mane hangs between her ears like horsey bangs; how adorable.

  “Okay now, miss. Why don’t you step on over here and I’ll show you how to git up on Penny?”

  Aw, her name is Penny. It reminds me of Pony. Wait until I tell him about this. As I walk toward Penny and the ranch man, I’m suddenly anxious. Does Penny know I’m nervous? Aren’t horses supposed to be really good at sensing human emotion? I’ve seen The Horse Whisperer on AMC. I want her to like me.

  “Take a deep breath and relax,” the rancher says. “That’s my first rule.”

  In through the nose, out through the mouth. “I’m good.”

  “Okay now. You’re going to stand on the left side of the horse. Take the reins in your left hand, and put that hand up here by the horse’s mane.”

  I follow his directions.

  “Good. Now, without letting go of the reins, grab on to her mane.”

  I’m worried about hurting Penny, but I listen. He’s the expert.

  “Okay, now you’re going to use your right hand to turn the stirrup toward you. Good. That’s it. Now put your left foot in there.”

  Right hand. Left foot. Okay, pardner, I’m still with you.

  “There ya go. Now grab the back of the saddle, give a little bounce on the ball of your right foot, and pull on her mane and the saddle until you get yourself up in the stirrup on your left.”

  I never turn around to look at the boys. I just concentrate, bounce, pull, and whoa! Here I am, almost on the horse.

  “That a girl. Now swing that right foot over and you’re there.”

  Plop. Houston, I am in the saddle. The stirrups are higher than I expected. I thought my legs would hang down more.

  “Whatever you do. Do not let go of the reins. Got it?” Mr. Sandia Stables says.

  I give him a toothy smile. I’m quivering inside. “Got it.”

  Could it be that I’m a natural? That wasn’t hard at all. Ha! Look at me. Giddyap. I’m grinning proud. And here’s the better part: Logan, Matty, and Spencer all make complete asses of themselves trying to mount their horses. It’s beyond me how Matty, who’s almost as tall as his horse, can’t seem to pull himself up smoothly.

  “Grab the back of the saddle, not the horn,” the rancher yells. “This isn’t a carousel.”

  I think Matty’s horse doesn’t like him. It keeps shaking its head and razzing him. It takes Matty at least three tries before his long, skinny leg finally swings up and over. Spencer gets up on the first try but collapses on the horse’s neck before getting his right leg in the proper position. Logan’s horse keeps taking one step away every time he goes to put his foot in the stirrup. Finally, the ranch guy holds the reins and stirrup for him. I’m surprised he didn’t boost Logan up and over too. Now, that would have been priceless.

  “All right,” says the rancher. “Now that we’ve got you all in the saddle, I’ll teach you basic starting and stopping, and then my son, Lucca, over there is going to take you out on the trail.”

  I follow the rancher’s finger to where he’s pointing. Well, would you look at Lucca. That tush was made for Wrangler’s. I’m itching to fluff my hair, but it’s like the ranch man reads my inner monologue.

  “I said it before, but this bears repeating. Never drop the reins,” says the father of Lucca. Lucca the god. “Keep your backs straight and your heels down. Eyes up. Don’t look at the ground. You look at the ground, you’ll be on the ground.”

  We snap into our best posture and follow directions as the rancher continues.

  “Now for some horseback riding one-zero-one. Keep the reins in the center of the saddle, by the horn. Move the reins to the left, and your horse will go left; move them to the right, and the horse will go right. Pull back, slowly, not with a quick jerk, and the horse will stop. To get the horse walking, squeeze with your calves and the horse will go. As you feel more comfortable, I’d like you to try to guide the horse by using that same technique. To move left, apply pressure with your calf to the horse’s right side and vice versa.”

  “Do we have to say giddyap?” Why’d I ask that?

  “Only if you think that’s going to give you a fuller experience, miss.” Rancher sarcasm.

  “You’ll have to excuse her,” Matty says. “She’s from New Jersey.”

  “So are you guys!”

  “Yes, but we don’t try quite as hard to make it obvious.” Logan laughs.

  “Yeah, well, maybe I don’t think it’s something to be ashamed of,” I snipe.

  That’s it. I squeeze with my calves and Penny starts walking. All on her own, she moseys away from the barn toward the nearest trail and I don’t try to stop her. That’s my girl. Just get me away from these idiots. We understand each other, me and Penny.

  “Hold up, little lady,” Father of Lucca calls after me. “Don’t head down the trail without Lucca.”

  I wave over my shoulder and play dumb. Let Lucca catch me. Let them all catch me. I can’t wait until Penny is galloping. I hear a commotion behind me as the guys attempt to put their horsies in drive.

  “Watch it,” I hear Logan yell.

  “Uh, space, Matty. I need room to turn,” Spencer says.

  I smile and let Penny take her time as we amble toward the woods. Then comes the cloppity-clop of a horse coming up quickly behind me. I watch the butt of Lucca pass me on the left. His flexed thigh muscles sure look nice as he pulls in front of me and spins his horse around to face Penny. He nods and tips a straw cowboy hat at me. I glance behind me to see the boys have finally achieved forward motion and are closing the gap between us.

  “You’re a feisty one, aren’t ya?” Lucca says.

  “I’m just excited. This is my first time on a horse.”

  “Well, I’d say you’re doing fine so far.”

  “Thanks.” It feels nice to be spoken to this way by a boy. No taunting. No irony in his voice.

  “You like horses?” Lucca asks.

  “I do. And I really like Penny. I think she gets me.” I stroke her mane and pat her neck. I think I feel her smiling.

  “Looks like it,” Lucca says.

  Oh, man, I love his five o’clock shadow and the way the little indent at the base of his neck provides the perfect cradle for the turquoise and silver charm that hangs from his leather choker. I can’t say that I’ve ever had a cowboy fantasy, but that just changed. I’m mulling over a way to surreptitiously get a pic of Lucca’s Wrangler butt on horseback when the guys finally join us.

  “We all here?” Lucca asks. “Let’s go, then. Why don’t you ride behind me, pretty lady? The rest of you follow in single file.”

  Pretty lady. I know he probably says that to all the girls, but it’s something I don’t hear very often, and by “very often” I mean ever. I sit taller.

  Our horses mosey up the trail a bit as we follow Lucca’s instructions and stay in single file. It’s already pretty hot—not steamy New Jersey hot, more like standing in an oven hot—and our rides don’t appear to be in any rush. Both Penny and I could use another application of deodorant. The view is nice, though, and I’m not just talking about Lucca’s gluteus maximus.

  We ride in relative silence. I say “relative” because me and Lucca aren’t talking and Log
an, who is immediately behind me, is not saying a word, but I can hear Matty and Spencer yapping away in the back. Words like “indigenous” and “vegetation” drift my way and I have to roll my eyes. Most of the trees on the trail look like run-of-the-mill evergreen. Nothing too unfamiliar except that I notice when I breathe in, and this is going to sound weird, I can smell them. The air smells so clean. I feel like one of those women in an air freshener commercial. Back home, I’d never give trees or other plants or how they smelled a second thought. Lucca stops and lets me and Penny catch up. I stare beyond the tree line at the jagged tops of the gray mountains. Lucca follows my gaze.

  “The Sandia Mountains,” he says. He looks older than all of us; around twenty, I’m guessing.

  “Thus the name of your stables.”

  “Correct.”

  “What kind of trees are these?” For some reason, I care all of a sudden.

  “Firs and spruce. A few ponderosa here and there; nothing too special,” he says. “You’ve probably got these in Jersey.”

  “New Jersey,” I say. I can’t help it. He’s touched a sore spot. In my opinion, you can only call it “Jersey” if you live in Jersey.

  “New Jersey,” Lucca corrects.

  “You don’t hear me dropping the ‘new’ from your state, do you? Where would that get us, huh?”

  “Cancún?” Lucca gives me a half smile. “Just like I thought. Feisty.”

  I smile too. Partly because I’m picturing shirtless Lucca surrounded by sand and turquoise water, the scent of coconut suntan lotion on his skin and . . . I’m going to fall off Penny if I go on. I shake my head to snap out of it. “Well, it’s just that I hate when people who aren’t from my state do that—especially Philly sports fans.”

  “I stand corrected.”

  “Except you’re sort of sitting right now,” I tease.

  I don’t know why I’m being so sassy with this complete stranger, who I find wildly attractive. I guess I’m in I’ve-got-nothing-to-lose mode. He lives in New Mexico, he’s too old for me, and I’m never going to see him again.

  “Well, since you brought up the position of my rear end, why don’t we discuss yours?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Take it easy, cowgirl. I’m just wondering what a girl from New Jersey is doing on a horse, in New Mexico, in the middle of summer. Could you have picked a hotter day for a ride?”

  I decide to drop the attitude, at least for the moment, and fill him in about how Logan is on his way to ASU, how he’d wanted to bring his car, and the guys decided it would be fun to have a road trip, blah, blah, blah.

  “We’re leaving him in Tempe with the car and flying home in three days,” I explain. Wow. I get a pang when I realize how soon that is. Not to mention, it’s almost the Fourth of July. The thought of it makes me feel hollow inside. Partly because I’m still worried about what I may have said to Joey and partly because I’ll be missing the fireworks at home. I’ve never missed the fireworks at Memorial Field before.

  “So, I’m guessing one of the three amigos is your boyfriend?” Is he flirting?

  “Nope.”

  Lucca raises his eyebrows. He is flirting. I’m aware that Logan is listening. Matty and Spencer are falling behind, lost in their inane chatter. “So you just decided to go along for the ride?”

  “More like was forced to. My parents wanted to keep me away from a guy.”

  “Ahh.”

  “My ex. He sort of filed a restraining order against me.”

  Lucca laughs at that one, but not in a mean way. More like the kind of genuine outburst that occurs when you’re caught off guard. His laughter is contagious, and I start giggling too at this crazy girl named Rosie who did this absurd thing back in New Jersey. The ludicrousness of the whole thing becomes clearer with every mile of this road trip.

  “Why do I suddenly feel like I should be on my best behavior?” Lucca says.

  I shrug. “Part of my charm.”

  He slows his horse down so that it’s next to mine and leans toward me. “So, this is your getaway, then? Welcome to the wild west.” He puts out his right hand and reaches for my left for a kind of sideways shake. I’m sort of nervous about taking one hand off the reins, but for Lucca, I do. His calloused hand is strong, manlier than I’m used to. I start imagining what it would be like to feel that hand against my cheek, on my shoulder, around my waist. I gotta stop. I’m getting tingly all over. I guess being on horseback can do that to a girl.

  So here I am, almost holding hands with a cowboy on horseback—mountains looming in the distance, the rugged landscape surrounding us—this could be the most romantic thing to happen to me in, well, again, ever. And it would be, if it weren’t for the three pairs of eyes I can feel behind me. Maybe I can pretend the three amigos, as Lucca called them, aren’t there.

  “Is Rosie holding hands with the cowboy?” Spencer shouts.

  The blood rushes to my cheeks and even more sweat trickles down the back of my neck.

  “What? This darn horse won’t move,” yells Matty, who has fallen way behind. “What about Rosie and the cowboy?”

  I turn around just as a frustrated Matty gives his horse a swift kick with the stirrups. I wince. What is he thinking? He musta put too much somethin’-somethin’ in that giddyap because suddenly his horse bolts past Spencer and Logan, picking up steam as he gallops past me and Lucca and down the winding rocky trail before disappearing into the trees. All I hear is the clop, clop, clop of hooves and Matty screaming, “Whoa, horsey, Whoaaaaa!!!”

  “Pull back gently on the reins!” Lucca yells. He turns to me, Logan, and Spencer. “Just keep following this trail. The horses know the way. I got this.”

  Lucca gives his horse a kick, with the correct amount of oomph, and takes off after Matty like a cowboy in a western movie, yelling directions to Matty as he disappears down the trail in a cloud of dust. Hi ho, Lucca; I can watch that guy all day. This is better than True Grit.

  “There goes your hero,” Logan says as his horse walks beside mine. He gazes off down the trail without looking at me. “Did Matty really yell ‘horsey’?”

  “Poor bastard. I hope he’s okay,” Spencer says, then asks, “Why were you holding the cowboy’s hand anyway, Rosie?”

  “Lucca. His name is Lucca, not the cowboy. And I wasn’t holding his hand; I was shaking it.”

  “I thought we got the introductions over with before we started the ride,” Logan says.

  I scrunch my eyes at him without saying a word. Our eyes lock for a few seconds and then he pulls ahead of me on the trail. He rides pretty well.

  “Come on, Rosie,” Spencer says. “Let’s see if we can catch up to Matty.”

  Spencer is pretty good with his horse too. He guides his horse around me and gets it to canter down the path. Penny must think this seems like a good idea because she does the same. Once she gets going, it’s bumpier than I expected. My butt keeps smacking against the saddle as she picks up speed. Poor gal. I wonder if having a first-timer on her back is uncomfortable for her. She’s probably about ready to drop me at the car and return to her shady barn, but I’m not ready for this ride to end.

  When we catch up to them, Lucca is standing in the trail, holding two sets of reins as he tightens the saddle on Matty’s horse. Matty is sitting on a big gray rock, wiping blood off of his forehead.

  “Oh my God, Matty! Are you okay?” I want to get off Penny and run to him, but I’m not exactly sure how to go about accomplishing this. I feel trapped.

  “I’m fine. It’s just a scratch.”

  “His horse took him under a branch and sort of scraped him off,” Lucca says.

  “Dude, you were thrown from your horse? How cool,” Spencer says.

  “I wouldn’t say thrown. It was more of a slow slide.” Matty sounds dejected.

  Lucca nods in agreement and, to his credit, tries to make Matty feel better. “It’s good to fall every once in a while. It means you’re learning something. He got right up too. I wa
s impressed.”

  Lucca finishes adjusting the saddle, and a red-cheeked Matty gets in position to mount up. Like a parent watching her kid take his first swing at Little League, my muscles tighten in anticipation. It only takes him one try to get on the horse this time.

  “How ’bout you ride up here with me?” Lucca suggests to Matty. Business before romance, I guess. He doesn’t need Matty breaking a bone and suing his father.

  Now that I’m a horse away from Lucca, I’m not able to talk to him. In a way, it’s better. I’m able to focus on the ride. I’m horseback riding in the Sandia Mountains. When will I be able to say that again? I watch the twitch of Penny’s ears, inhale through my nose, and exhale slowly through my mouth. Everything else feels so far away, and I’m surprised to find I’m not thinking about anything, or anyone, as I enjoy the sound of horse hooves clopping along the trail. My hearts sinks as we descend the mountain and I see the ranch in the distance.

  When we reach the ranch, we gather in front of the barn, where Lucca and his dad supervise our collective dismounts. Lucca holds Penny’s reins and puts a hand in the small of my back as I swing my right leg over my horse and lower it to the ground. I take my left foot out of the stirrup and look up at him. I have the sudden urge to touch the charm around his neck.

  “Is this the sun?” I ask, taking the medallion in my hand.

  “A glyph.”

  “Huh?” I’m still holding it in my hand.

  “Native American sun symbol. Like hieroglyphics.”

  “Was it made by Native Americans?” Now that we’re not on horseback anymore, I notice he’s not that tall—but his chiseled features more than make up for his average height.

  “Nah. Some band I saw in Arizona. Bought it off their merch table.”

  I had almost forgotten my question. Do not stare directly at Lucca, I caution myself.

  “Nice.” I let go of the charm, keeping my eyes fixed on it as I do.

  “How long are you in New Mexico for?”

  “We’re leaving for Arizona from here.” Lucca’s dark brown eyes search for mine, but I have to look away. Now is not the time to form new attachments.

  “Next time you visit, try to do it in the fall. The weather is better, and every October, Albuquerque has its International Balloon Fiesta. Ever been in a hot air balloon?”