“I thought we would try walking through the barn. Then, if you’re up to it, I’ll take one of the calmer horses out and you can watch me groom her.”
“Are we doing that before or after we go grocery shopping?”
"Whatever you want."
"Before then," she says.
I nod as we sit down at the kitchen table and both dig in. Kennedy is quiet and I can tell she’s trying to get herself psyched up to go down near the horses. I leave her to her thoughts as I finish off my breakfast and carry my dishes over to the sink.
“Ready?” I ask after she’s loaded her dishes into the dishwasher.
She gives me a weak smile, and I try to think of some way to show her that this is going to be fun. We walk out onto the front porch and she takes a deep breath as she looks around at the horses.
I wait for my girl, letting her take the lead as she slowly descends the stairs and walks toward the barn. I stay close by her side, letting her know I’m here.
She reaches out to me when we get closer to the barn, her fingers finding mine. I wrap my hand around hers, squeezing slightly. I hate that she’s scared, but knowing she wants me to comfort her makes me feel ten feet tall and invincible.
“It’s okay. We can take our time,” I tell her quietly.
She nods, her feet slowing to a stop as we stare at the barn doors. I glide my thumb across her knuckles, reassuring her of our connection.
“They’re going to be locked up. They can’t hurt me,” she whispers. Even though she’s talking to herself, I answer.
“That’s right. I won’t let anything bad happen to you.” I keep telling her that, hoping little by little, she’ll believe me. I fucking hate that she’s lived in fear for so long.
I don’t know Kennedy’s whole story yet, but I know the incident with her horse when she was a teen wasn’t the only trauma she’s experienced. She told me her mom left, and I’m guessing her dad didn’t know how to deal with that on top of a daughter with a phobia of horses. I get the sense Kennedy’s needs have been ignored more often than not, but that shit stops right here. This woman has all of my attention, and I’ll give her every fucking thing from this moment on.
My brave girl squares her shoulders and takes one more deep breath before she squeezes my hand and we start to walk forward.
Her gait slows as we reach the doors, but she doesn’t stop. She moves closer to my side, holding my hand tighter as we enter the barn and start to walk past the first stall.
I can hear her breathing starting to pick up and I clear my throat. I need to distract her. If she can make it down the aisle, maybe she’ll see that she’s okay. She’s safe here. The world didn’t end.
“I’ve always loved it here, on this farm,” I tell her. Kennedy glances over at me. She still looks scared, but my words are already starting to distract her. “School, on the other hand... I was smart, I mean, I did well, but I hated the structure and the homework.”
“I think most kids hate homework,” she says with a small smile.
Her grip on my hands loosens slightly and I know my plan is working. Part of me is relieved, and another part of me is angry at her father for not even trying. If he would have taken five minutes out of his day to walk through the barn with his daughter, she might not have missed out on so many years of riding.
But I can’t dwell on that now.
“Yeah, that’s true, I guess,” I answer, wanting to keep her talking. “I suppose it was more that I just wanted to be outside.”
Kennedy hums thoughtfully and we take another step forward, passing the next stall. She glances at the wooden door, then at me, before staring straight ahead.
“Do you remember those job quizzes that they had us do in school? The ones where you had to answer all of those questions and it would tell you what jobs or careers would be a good fit for you?”
“Yeah,” she says as we pass another stall.
“All of my careers were outdoors. If I ever had to do some stuffy office job, I would probably lose it.”
She grins at me and I squeeze her hand as I go on.
"Even the paperwork for the Dude Ranch, I hate. There's just something about sitting down at my desk that makes me feel caged in."
We pass by the last stall and I lead her out the back door.
“How are you feeling?” I ask her and she blinks, turning to look back at the barn.