“I’m okay,” Gaelynn whispered to herself. “I’m not going to fall again.”

She looked around, petrified, making sure the other riders couldn’t hear. Gaelynn repeated her mantra three more times under her breath.

She inhaled deeply; the overwhelming smell of pine tickled her nose.

Gaelynn tried closing her eyes, but her mind was overcome with the violent image of Francis' leering smile.

She opened her eyes and shook her head.

“You’re riding Snowflake,” she reasoned with herself through gritted teeth. “He loves you and you love him.”

Thick beads of sweat dripped down her pale arm as she leaned forward to pat her horse’s neck.

Curt’s voice came from behind—he was leading their short expedition through the forest.

“Everybody’s waiting for you, Gaelynn,” he said. “Time to wake up.”

Gaelynn’s pudgy face reddened with shame.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, dropping her head against Snowflake’s mane and avoiding eye contact.

“All right,” Curt said, addressing the group. “Let’s all move on in a canter.”

Snowflake eagerly began to follow the other horses, but just as quickly Gaelynn pulled him back.

“I’ll catch up with you,” Gaelynn whispered.

 Curt circled back to her, his eyes annoyed but understanding.

“Your fall was scary,” he said, “but it was also two months ago. It’s time to catch up.”

“I have to take Snowflake to the stable,” Gaelynn mumbled. “I’ll see you next week.”

Gaelynn could feel her horse’s frustration as they walked back to the corral. Tears slid onto her shirt as she slid out of the saddle and leaned her forehead against Snowflake’s side.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered to her beloved horse. “Don’t hate me, okay?”

Snowflake whinnied.

Gaelynn picked out a brush and began grooming Snowflake’s smooth and shiny coat. She found the repetitive act soothing—and Snowflake certainly didn’t mind the attention.

Gaelynn winced as she heard Curt’s voice in her head, his tone stinging with disapproval. He was a nice man and a good instructor, but he was obviously losing patience with her, even though she was a capable rider.

Why can’t I get over that day? she thought. It wasn’t a terrible fall. It didn’t leave any permanent damage. I think I was more ASHAMED than hurt.

She placed her hand on Snowflake’s forelock, closed her eyes, and found herself vividly remembering the last time she rode.

***

The winter afternoon was brisk but exhilarating. Gaelynn was able to momentarily forget her trauma as she and Snowflake loped through the woods. She even found herself smiling at a pair of chipmunks burrowing at the base of a tree. 

Somehow, she didn’t see the cragged rock in front of her—and neither did Snowflake.

Snowflake stumbled forward and Gaelynn, with a rare scream, flew off into the hard dirt. She landed on her head and wrenched her neck.

Gaelynn blacked out—and didn’t know if it was five minutes or five hours later when she heard the ambulance beeping carefully through the woods to where she lay.

She heard the crunching of its tires over the gravel and dirt—but rather than relief, she was seized by a suffocating sense of panic. Gaelynn was instantly flooded with choppy, horrifying memories of what her abuser had done to her three-year-old body.

Her body tensed when the EMT—a genial man with a long red beard—crouched over her and made sure she didn’t have any broken bones. With silent efficiency, the technician fitted Gaelynn with a neck brace. He asked her to move her fingers and toes, but she was so panicked that she couldn’t make out his words.

“Try and wiggle your toes,” he said again, more loudly. 

His voice snapped her out of her flashback, and she wiggled first her toes, then her fingers.

“Everything looks good,” the technician said. He and his partner lifted Gaelynn onto a white plastic stretcher and gently rolled her into the ambulance. She felt mildly carsick as it wobbled out of the uneven forest.

Gaelynn thought briefly of poor Christopher Reeve, the Superman actor who had suffered a catastrophic fall in a competitive jumping event. He had become a quadriplegic, and remained so until his death.

She waited until the ambulance was on the highway before she dared to speak.

“Will I become paralyzed?” she asked the technician. Her voice sounded mousy and meek.

The red-bearded man smiled reassuringly.

“As long as you can move your arms and legs, you’re fine,” he said. “But you will have a long, painful neck ache.”

“Will I be able to ride Snowflake again?” Gaelynn asked.

“You’ll have to wear a brace for a few weeks,” the man said, “so I’m guessing your doctor will say no riding for a while. But don’t quote me on that—we won’t know anything for sure until the x-rays and MRI are done.”

Gaelynn’s relief vanished. She pictured the MRI revealing massive brain damage, and the doctor telling her she should never even go near a horse again.

She began to shake noticeably, and the technician gave her a mild sedative. Gaelynn was fast asleep before the ambulance reached the hospital.

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