Riding for Redemption

by Bonnie R. Paulson

  “What’s that?” Johnny had no idea what his uncle was talking about or what he was doing up that way. Tim was supposed to be in Helena organizing a committee meeting on the next year’s Circuit schedule. Not exactly something he could just get out of or easily reschedule.

  Shaking the paper so the edges fluttered, Tim snarled, “It’s an application from a...” He consulted the paper, glaring at the lines. “Sara Beth Scott. She gives this as her address. The only reason I recognized it is because I had just completed filling out a forwarding address form for you. So imagine my surprise when I discover that another competitor for Miss Wrangler Montana has a connection with you.”

  Sara Beth had applied? That wasn’t possible. She couldn’t ride or even walk for the runway portion. How...

  Tim stepped closer, the musky sweetness of his favorite chewing tobacco buffeting toward Johnny with each shouted word. “Did you put her up to this? Are you and this girl working together?” He pointed toward Lisa, his face swelling with red outrage. “Do you think you’re going to get my money? You’ll get nothing!” Brown flecks of spittle covered his chin, mingling with the stubble that came from not shaving for half a day.

  Johnny held up his hands. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t know Sara Beth applied.”

  “Well,” Tim stepped back, head bobbing like a bobble head. “You tell her she doesn’t stand a chance. I’m not going to let her in because of you. Find out how that makes her feel about you and this whole situation.”

  “I would imagine she wouldn’t care.” Sara Beth’s called from the deck, strong tones carried across the short distance as if she sat inches away.

  Oh, boy, cow manure was about to get flung.

  Sara Beth

  Chapter 20

  The ramp had never seemed so long as it did right then. Even when she’d had to face her fear of leaving the deck on her own to apologize to Johnny, the dang ramp had at least had wherewithal to only seem like a mile long.

  But Sara Beth had to do something. The portly-holier-than-though man screaming at Johnny mentioned Sara Beth and she’d bristled.

  Having everyone’s attention, she tried her best to roll the wheelchair down gracefully, but she’d never done it with a crowd watching.

  Come on, Sara Beth. Pretend. Prove a point. She lifted her chin, her grip surer. Cruising down the wooden ramp, she coasted to a stop only a few feet from Johnny, Lisa, and Tim Mayfair.

  How could she not recognize him? He had a narcissistic need to see himself in the media more than once a week. And she’d been getting the weekly newsletter longer than she could remember.

  Johnny’s uncle at least had the decency to appear embarrassed with his eyes downcast as he avoided looking directly at the wheelchair. “Well, um, I’m not sure what you mean, miss.”

  “Can I see that?” Sara Beth held out her hand, waiting with clear expectation for the man to give her the application he brandished like a flag.

  Without a word, he passed her the papers in sausage-sized fingers. He couldn’t have received her application that fast – she’d just given it to Rosie an hour ago.

  Flipping through the pages, Sara Beth gritted her teeth. She recognized Rosie’s handwriting immediately. And without Sara Beth’s permission, Rosie would have a lot of explaining to do. Was Sara Beth supposed to be grateful that Rosie thought highly enough of Sara Beth that she’d entered her? Or should Sara Beth be angry that Rosie hadn’t asked?

  Deciding to go with the former, Sara Beth glanced at Tim. She straightened her spine, throwing her shoulders back. “Regardless of Johnny’s employment here, I assure you he neither had any knowledge of my application nor did he attempt to persuade me in any fashion.” She dropped the paper to her lap. Throwing her head back, she sneered. “Quite honestly, I’m offended you felt you had the right to come here and verbally assault my physical therapist and Michael’s employee.”

  Tim opened his mouth but Sara Beth rushed on, wagging a finger his way. “Since you’re here with my application, you can let me know if I’m in or not.” She smiled broadly. “You know, to keep me from being in too much suspense.”

  “I don’t know if that’s appropriate.” He spluttered, hands waving to and fro. “I mean, well, you have to be able to ride a horse. We don’t usually accept applications from those with disabilities.” He plastered a public-relations smile on his face and rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet.

  “But it says on the application page of your site that you don’t discriminate. Isn’t that a form of discrimination?” At the moment, she denied her surprise. Holding control over her emotional attachment to just being considered for the pageant, she hoped it didn’t hinge on her legs. As much as she wasn’t the type to sue over something like a pageant, she wouldn’t hesitate when her rights were in jeopardy because of a man’s bias.

  “Look, little lady. I’m not discriminating at all.” He lifted the hat off his head and resettled it. “It’s a competition and one of the categories is the handling of a horse. Now, I feel bad that you’re in that chair, I do, but you can’t expect me to change the rules for one person, do you?” He laughed, looking around for someone to support him on his comments. “I mean, that would be ridiculous.”

  But she could ride. And she’d show him and get herself a spot in the show. “But what if I could ride? What if I could compete, and do the same things that the other girls do? Would you let me into the pageant?”

  In complete mock seriousness, Tim nodded his head. “Of course. But you can’t. You have to walk down the catwalk, you have to stand for an interview – more than once depending on your placing. There are so many things standing in the way of you even making it pass the first stage.” He shifted, lowering his hand to her level. “Let’s just shake on it and agree this isn’t a big deal? I’ll even throw in season passes for you and your family to the rodeo.”

  Red spots covered her vision. Pointing her finger directly toward his chest, she spoke through stiff lips. “Don’t ever patronize me. Here’s the deal, big man. You give me a shot to prove to you I can ride the same course as the other girls and let the board decide if I can compete or not.” Holy crud, she’d just challenged the biggest man in Montana rodeo. Thrown down gloves and she didn’t even know if she could do it. Go big or go home, dang it. “If you don’t, well, I’m sure any media source would be happy to hear my side of the story.”

  If she failed in her threats, she’d be mortified.

  What was wrong with Sara Beth? She’d been on a horse! She could ride. It’d take some practice and she’d have to convince Rosie to let her, but... oh, to have her possibilities back.

  Tim considered her, stroking his lofty sideburns. “Okay, Sara Beth. You have a deal. I’ll give you six weeks. We have a show in Butte that weekend. You ride the course without having to stop and I’ll let you into the pageant. I don’t even need to consult with the board.” He motioned toward Johnny. “But he comes with me. I’m not going to chance a repeat of what happened with that one.” He jerked his thumb toward Lisa whose eyes had widened in alarm during their negotiations.

  Not get to see Johnny? Sara Beth considered the ramifications of the move. They were just starting to connect. She couldn’t see her days without him.

  She moved, as if to shake her head.

  But Johnny stepped forward. “Alright, I’ll go with you, Uncle Tim. I’m pretty much done here, anyway.” He offered a cool handshake to Sara Beth. “It was nice meeting you. Maybe I’ll see you around the Circuit.” He touched the brim of his hat toward Lisa and Sara Beth before leading Tim toward the truck.

  The abruptness of his departure stung like hot water on a burn.

  Lisa avoided Sara Beth’s eyes and climbed into her truck. Both vehicles drove off Rourke land.

  What the heck had just happened?

  “COME ON, SUGAR, WE can do this.” Sara Beth crooned to the espresso colored horse. Michael had only agreed to Sara Beth spending time with Sugar as long as
she was monitored. He’d adamantly fought against the idea of riding the spirited horse.

  But each day Sara Beth spent with the mare, a noticeable change took place. The horse seemed calmer, more collected. Sara Beth rolled up the ramp to the next level beside the fence so she could reach Sugar’s mane to brush it. Michael and Bull had finally agreed to allow Sara Beth to at least try to put the new therapeutic saddle on Sugar.

  “This isn’t going to go anywhere, Sara Beth. This horse won’t allow anyone to sit on her.” He blocked Sugar from prancing away and playing keep-away in the ring.

  Sara Beth continued stroking Sugar. She didn’t yell her reply, but instead continued using a sing-song voice. “I know, but I only want to ride her. I can do this.”

  The horse didn’t flinch when they tightened the belt of the saddle-seat around her waist. She blinked and moved her head slowly as Sara Beth maintained contact.

  Bull spoke up, adjusting the seat back to Sara Beth’s specifications. “I normally agree the most docile are ideal, but this horse seems to have an affinity for Sara Beth. I have yet to see the hellion you mentioned yesterday while coming in from Missoula.” He shot Sara Beth a confident grin. Plus, as long as we secure the three-point harness and make sure the saddle is steady, there’s no way the horse can buck her.”

  The whites of Sugar’s eyes showed as she rolled her eyes with all the male voices. It wasn’t the first time Sara Beth had wondered if men scared Sugar and not women.

  In place, the saddle majestically held its spot atop Sugar. The horse watched Sara Beth, blinking every ten seconds or so.

  “I think we should try it.” Sara Beth ignored Michael’s sharp gasp. “I only have five weeks left to the competition and I have to relearn all this and so does Sugar.” She turned pleading eyes toward her to-be-brother-in-law. “Please, Michael? Just let me try. I won’t get far with you guys here to save me.”

  He watched the horse and then glanced at Bull. Throwing his hands up, he dropped his chin to his chest, shaking his head. “Fine. We’ll try it. But if something happens to you, I’m not facing your sister alone, you got me?”

  “Of course.” She grinned at Bull who returned her excitement with a smile of his own.

  Helping Sara Beth up the ramp and onto the new saddle, Bull and Michael checked and double-checked the straps and belts. Finally, they backed away from Sugar, slowly, as if they would catch the horse and Sara Beth if either of them decided to fall or run.

  Finger on his chin, Michael muttered. “Well, I’ll be damned.” He stared at the pair, unsure what to do.

  Sugar swung her head around, trying to see Sara Beth astride her in the new saddle. As if finished checking to make sure Sara Beth was seated well, Sugar stepped forward slowly, first one foot and then another.

  Michael and Bull moved alongside the horse for the first few yards, but fell back to stand along the fencing of the ring as Sugar slowly took Sara Beth around and around the training area.

  In that moment, Sara Beth and Sugar connected – like they realized they needed each other. Sara Beth finally found her legs.

  Sara Beth

  Chapter 21

  Five weeks passed faster than Sara Beth could prepare for.

  Sugar had worked hard, only throwing her fits when any of the men tried to saddle her for a ride. When Michael had tried going it bareback, she’d thrown him into the dusty dirt at her feet.

  The burn at missing Johnny hadn’t faded, but Sara Beth had learned to ignore it – at least until at night in her bed... in the dark... when the nightmares of being alone in the rain would haunt her. Johnny had saved her then, he’d been around. But not lately. And the reality bit hard into Sara Beth’s motivations.

  Rosie stored the wheelchair in the back of the truck, shutting the tailgate with a bang. Sliding into the driver’s seat, she offered a slight smile to Sara Beth. “How was it? What’d the doctors say?”

  Did Sara Beth tell her sister that she couldn’t bring herself to inform the doctors that the tingling in her legs had returned? That it had spread down past her knees into her calves? What would Rosie say when she found out the doctors had inspected Sara Beth for sores and other reflexes and had gotten mixed signals so they ordered an entire round of tests to be done the following week? Would Rosie be angry that Sara Beth planned on skipping every single one of them? If not to ride the next week, then to at least see Johnny?

  Sara Beth smiled tightly. “Good. Nothing’s changed.” She clicked the seatbelt, averting her gaze to the window while Rosie started the truck.

  “I’m sorry, Sara Beth. I know you were hoping for something different.” Rosie fell quiet as she settled into the driver’s seat.

  The drive would go quickly. It always did. Sara Beth watched for signs that Johnny might have been in town – but it wasn’t like he would paint “Johnny was here” on the walls of the buildings.

  Small talk about the upcoming wedding occupied Rosie until they pulled into the drive.

  “Are you excited to try that new saddle Bull sent you?” Rosie exited the truck, determined to irritate Sara Beth while teasing her impatience. Rosie brought the chair around and helped Sara Beth lower herself into it using the handles Michael had mounted on the body of the vehicle.

  She’d done nothing but ride for hours and hours every day. Practiced twists and corners, small jumps, medium jumps. She’d done every speed on the horse. But she couldn’t make herself do the higher jumps. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

  She just... couldn’t.

  But the saddle-chair. Oh, heaven. The situation wasn’t ideal but, thanks to a very inventive man, Sara Beth’s dreams of riding horses could be reality.

  Every day she rode. Hard.

  So she’d asked Bull to make some adjustments and the new seat – second of her own, if she was keeping count – had arrived just that morning.

  “Yeah, I’m hoping the alterations he made aren’t that noticeable. I really did like the pommel where he had it.” Bull had arrived with her new saddle built to her specifications and had trained her. They’d become fast friends.

  “Are you excited for next week?” Rosie walked alongside Sara Beth toward the barn.

  Sara Beth wouldn’t even go into the house. She’d start right into a warm-up ride with her horse. “Yes and no. What if...” She trailed off. Voicing her fears wouldn’t help her feel better. She had so many shortcomings. It wouldn’t do to over-stress them to her sister who was already mired with her own concerns.

  “What if what? You fall? You’ve already fallen, sis. I think the what-if should be flipped. You should be saying, what if I succeed and make old man Mayfair eat horse crap?” She met Sara Beth’s gaze and they laughed.

  A horn honked behind them followed by the nearing sound of a roaring engine. The women turned.

  The MacAllisters – Slate and Robbie – waved as they parked beside the Rourke ranch vehicles. They climbed from the truck, a manila envelope in Robbie’s hands. “Hey, ladies. Have a minute?”

  “Sure, we were just heading into the barn. Let me grab Michael.” Rosie waved them inside following Sara Beth.

  At the fridge set up in a room just off the main body of the barn, Sara Beth opened the door. “Can I get you something to drink?” She withdrew a bottled water and waited.

  “No, thank you. We aren’t staying long.” Robbie held up a hand.

  Sara Beth closed the door and twisted the lid off. Swigging from the bottle, she inhaled deep. “How is everything at Lonely Lace? Bull was just saying he’d been over there a few times in the last two weeks. Are you guys getting another saddle-seat?” She’d nick-named the therapeutic saddles because saying therapeutic saddles was a tongue twister waiting to trip her up.

  Slate tucked his hands in his jean pockets. He glanced at Robbie. “That’s actually why we’re here.”

  The door opened. Michael and Rosie joined them. Michael shook their hands and guided Slate toward the chairs. “Have a seat, guys. What’s going on?”

 
; Everyone sat. Sara Beth wheeled up to the edge of the futons set parallel to the wall. The room often acted as a sleepover unit for any of the extra summer ranch hands.

  Robbie leaned his elbows on his knees. “We have something... pretty exciting to propose.”

  “But we don’t want anyone to feel pressured. This is an idea that we couldn’t say no to.” Slate tapped Robbie’s back. “Go ahead.”

  “Thanks for your permission, bro.” Robbie rolled his eyes, smiling. “As you know, Sara Beth, Bull has been to our place quite a bit over the last few weeks. We’ve hired him to outfit us with more of his therapeutic saddles – but the adjustable styles.” He tilted his head, spreading his hands as he spoke. “What we would like to do is expand on Lonely Rivers and her offerings. While we enjoy the tourism bit and it’s made this county a pretty great piece of change, we’d like to do something purposeful. Something with meaning.”

  Sara Beth didn’t know where he was going. She couldn’t stop picking at the tingling skin of her legs under her yoga pants. She prodded her fingernail into the flesh a few inches above her knee and to the side. The tingling increased where she poked.

  Robbie continued. “What I’m saying is we’d like to offer horse riding and training for paraplegics, quadriplegics, as well as amputees at Lonely Rivers. We will still cater to our dude ranch clientele but expand and market to the other chunk of the population that chooses not to go on outings like ours because of someone in their life with disabilities. The opportunity to help others experience horse riding is more of a calling than a business in this aspect and we feel it’s an important one.”

  Sara Beth glanced from one to the other. They seemed to be waiting for her to give her approval or something. “That’s awesome, guys. What a great idea.” As much as she was the only handicapped person they probably knew, it didn’t mean they had to follow the popular trend of over-politically-correcting everything and ask her for permission to go forth with their idea.