Thursday, June 12, 2014
My Vision of a True Hero by Paty Jager
When I thanked him his comment was, "After seeing that fall, I wasn't sure where to touch that wouldn't hurt you."
I like to think of myself as a bit of a cowgirl, but getting bucked off twice yesterday, I'm almost ready to stay seated in my chair and only write about wild rides on equines and the taste of dirt in the mouth.
My friend who also has horses suggested that there might have been something under the saddle blanket to make my usually calm and unflappable horse toss me twice. As much as I didn't like letting her get away with throwing me, after the second time I hit the ground I couldn't get back on, physically.
My hero didn't see the first toss. He was busy in the house drawing up a septic drain field for the house we're in the process of building. I called him out after I caught Lily and asked him to hold her while I got on. She danced a bit and I finally made it back in the saddle. He let go and we did three circles where I usually lunge her. In hindsight, I probably should have lunged her more rather than crawled back on. When I stopped to get off, she started bucking and took me through a tree. I don't know if it was an 8 second ride, but it felt like an eternity before I couldn't hold on an longer and hit the ground.
My hero ran to my side and waited for me to even feel like getting off the ground, then stood stoically as I grabbed hold of his pocket and dragged my battered body off the ground. He then leaned me against a pick up and headed after the horse. By the time Lily ran back my direction, I could hobble enough to corner and catch her. I pulled the bridle and saddle off and handed the lead rope to my hero. He led her off to a corral by herself.
When he returned to the house he said, "Take a hot shower and wash the blood off your face." I had washed my face. I have a long scratch from once side of my face to the other that runs under my nose, making me look like I have a bloody nose and smeared it. Not a pretty sight.
We were traveling the rest of the day, but he stopped extra times to let me get out and worked out the sore muscles.
Sometimes in real life and in a romance novel, the littlest of things can make a person a hero in the heroine's eyes.
What little thing has a hero done for you?
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