If I hadn’t been trying to pull air back into my lungs and life back into my limbs, I might have noticed where I was, but it wasn’t until Moses squatted down beside me and peered into my face that I realized where Lucky had thrown me.
He didn’t ask if I was okay. He didn’t say anything for a moment. We just stared at each other, and I saw that his breaths were as labored as my own. It pleased me to think he’d run to make sure I wasn’t mortally wounded.
“Well, shit.” I sighed, trying to sit up.
Moses sat back and watched as I brushed the dirt from my right side, wincing as I swept my hand over my shoulder. I had a long scrape that stretched almost to my elbow, but other than that, I was fine. I would hurt like hell tomorrow, but nothing was broken. I was on my feet brushing off my rear end and scanning the horizon without any help from Moses.
“Did you see which way he went?” I asked, casting my eyes across the field.
“No,” he answered finally. “I was too busy watching you fall.”
“I rode for a while before that,” I answered defensively. “We cleared two fences.”
“Is that normal for you?”
“What?”
“Riding without a saddle, full out, on a horse that obviously doesn’t want to be ridden?”
“He gave me his head . . . I thought he was ready. I was wrong.”
“He gave you his head?”
“Yeah . . . never mind. It’s horse speak. When a horse lets you control his head, pull it all the way back along his body, move it this way and that, he’s yours. But Lucky’s never been ridden. I needed to court him a little more.”
Moses’s lips were pursed and his eyebrows quirked and I thought for a minute he was going to laugh. I seemed to have that effect on him.
“Shut up,” I said.
He laughed, just as I predicted. “I didn’t say anything!”
“But you’re thinking it.”
“What am I thinking?”
“Something dirty. I can see it all over your face.”
“Nah. That’s not dirt. I’m just black.”
“Har, har.”
“You’ve never been thrown, huh?” He rose to his feet beside me.
“I’ve been thrown plenty,” I clipped, turning away. I started to walk in the direction I’d come. No use wandering around looking for Lucky. I’d go back for the truck and drive around until I found him.
“So is that what you’re trying to do with me? You want me to give you my head, just like the horse?” he called after me.
I stopped. Moses never gave me much. I’d been pushing him day after day, week after week, since he’d painted my room, just like I’d been pushing Lucky. Lucky had come around. But Moses hadn’t.
“I don’t want a damn thing from you,” I lied.
“That’s why you bring me my lunch every day and spy on me and drop by my grandma’s house every night.”
I felt like I’d fallen all over again, and this time it wasn’t my shoulder that hurt. My heart ached like I’d taken one of Lucky’s feet to my chest.
“I don’t want your head, Moses. I just thought you might need a friend.”
“I won’t let you in my head, Georgia. You don’t want to see what’s in my head.”“Okay. Fine. Then I’ll give you mine,” I said, turning on him. I don’t know where my pride was. I should spit on him and tell him to go to hell. Instead I was bowing at his feet.
“I’m kind of thinking there isn’t anything in your head. I’ve seen you get kicked and thrown, and I’m guessing you’ll be right back at it as soon as you find your horse.”
“Screw you, Moses.”
“That’s the first thing you’ve said that appeals to me.”
I gasped and he laughed. Again. I knew he was just trying to irritate me and make me run away crying. But I wasn’t the crying kind. He was right about one thing. I got kicked and thrown, and I came back for more.
So I did something I had never done. I turned and walked back to him, took his face between my hands, and I kissed him hard. It was probably the worst kiss ever delivered in the history of angry kisses. It was a terrible kiss. I had never kissed anyone before, and my lips were pressed into a hard, little line, my eyes squeezed shut, my hands gripping his face like they’d gripped Lucky’s mane.
He pulled away, but not far, and his breath was harsh across my mouth. “Careful, Georgia. You’re about to get thrown.”
“You son of a—”
And then his lips were back, swallowing my angry words, and I forgot almost immediately what a jerk he was. He wasn’t impatient or pushy or rough—not like I had been. He took his time and he showed me how to take mine. One hand held my head, cradling it, while the other found the curve of my waist and curled around my belt. And when I tried to take charge he bit down on my lip.
“Stop it,” he hissed. “Let me lead.”
So I did.
And he led me round and round, up and down, until my legs turned to jelly and my eyes rolled back in my head, until I was leaning against him because I was too turned on to stand.
And when he lifted his head and laughed, just a soft little chuckle, I struggled to open my heavy eyelids and drift back down to earth.
“Well, whaddaya know?”
I shook out the fog and turned my head, finding the spot where Moses’s eyes were trained.
Lucky was sauntering across the field like he hadn’t just freaked out and taken me for the ride of my life.