The Stars in the Sky (Giving You ... #2) by Leslie McAdam Read Free Book Online Page A

overwhelming. Being around them, without being able to see them, had to be a disconcerting experience. After each participant had a chance to meet his or her horse, running their hands over their noses, feeling their manes, and touching the flicking muscles on their necks, we headed back to the bunkhouse for free time before dinner. As I walked with the group back to the bunkhouse, I saw Will off to the side, sweaty, take off his shirt and wipe off his face, his muscular torso on display, basically just for me. He saw me and grinned, and I knew the show was on purpose. He even flexed a bicep.
    I'd have to think of a way to get him back.

Compromise
     
     
    THE EXPERIENCE OF ASSISTING visually impaired kids to ride horses would stay with me forever.
    Once the kids were up on their horses using a special ramp, the looks on their faces seared into my memory. Sure, they were scared at first, to be that high up off of the ground on an unfamiliar and huge animal. Then, the looks turned to unadulterated terror once the horses started walking. A horse has a sway to its gait that you have to get used to. If you were blind, your body was often hunched over, since you relied on canes, guide animals, or caregivers to get around. But on a horse, sitting up engaged other muscles and other senses, which was so healthy. The wranglers held the ropes and guided each horse and rider slowly around the corral. And after a while, the faces of the children turned to delight.
    They were riding horses, actually doing it. So powerful.
    After, they described to me the sensations they felt—the scent of the barnyard, the sounds of the horses, the rough feel of the hide of their horse, the lumbering motion of the walk. They also talked about how they felt about riding, from fear to joy. We made a recording of their voices so that they could replay it and remember what they felt when they returned home.
    Once we were done, every single one of them wanted to do it again and again.
    So they went riding a lot.
    Speaking of riding, Will was away from the compound this week, I guess taking care of things around the ranch. But he made a point to walk over to the corral on one afternoon and talk with the kids. He gave them individual attention. But he sure looked over at me often.
    When he met Clarissa, of course she wanted to "sing" his hair, so he bent down, all six and a half feet of him and let the little seventeen-year-old touch his curly, brown hair.
    I wanted to to do that.
    She sang a sweet, middle note, and said that his hair sounded "True, passionate, and kind."
    Interesting. It was sort of like an astrology reading by hair.
    I really only saw Will this week at meal times, when we both had trouble keeping our hands under control. The flirting with him was now a combination of completely under wraps and blatantly obvious. At least I hoped it wasn't obvious. When I got up to refill the water pitcher, for instance, I made it a point to graze his crotch as I got up. He did the same, reaching across my boobs to grab the salt and pepper, and resting his arm just a second too long. And then looking at me, giving me an almost imperceptible eyebrow raise and smirk. And so it went on, in public, playing this game of who can touch the other one the most, without letting anyone else know it.
    On Thursday, it happened.
    "What's that noise?" asked Clarissa suddenly, her sunglasses on, blonde braids whipping around to turn her ear toward some scrubby bushes growing at the far end of the corral. I walked over to investigate and, holy shit, there was a full-sized rattlesnake right there. Not only could I see the snake, stretched out across the dirt, but also I could hear the rattle. About all that I knew about rattlesnakes came from cartoons, but I figured that just because it wasn't coiled up and ready to strike didn't mean that we should stick around and meet it.
    "We're going to get out of here and go inside and I'll get someone to take care of it," I said, more