Trust Fall
October 1st, 2025
In my mind, I look like a modern-day Annie Oakley when I'm out here working and riding. Just a sharpshooting cowgirl that never wavers, never steers her mount wrong, and can handle any trouble that dares to cross her path. But today, I am the total opposite of that vision, and overall, just a complete basket case.
Usually, I find such peace in these fields. When I originally moved to Rockwall, Texas, I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I ended up with more than I ever dreamed of. Between the Blackland Prairies and the fact that he isn’t here with me, it couldn’t be better. But I woke up today with the ghost of him haunting me in a way that I don’t typically let linger, yet I can’t seem to shake it.
I’ll never forget the day I finally left. My grievances against him had been piling up for a while before I finally started searching for a way out. I applied for the job at Cross Ranch, lied about the trip I took to go interview for it, and packed my things while he was at work. At least, he was supposed to be. Up until that night, it had just been verbal abuse and threats for worse. I was picking up the last box when the door flung open; his face was incandescent with rage. My truck was already running out front, my life packed in it, so he put the pieces together and had the distance from the driveway to the door to gear himself up for our very first boxing match. The worse was here, and it came as a punch across my face.
The sound of faltered hoofbeats and the thud of my body hitting the ground brought me back to reality. I was so distracted in my own thoughts that I didn't even notice the gopher-sized hole in the middle of the field. My horse, Merit, trusts me more than I trust myself, and operates as if I'm incapable of ever steering him wrong, so he kept on loping through instead of disobeying my direction and saving us the trouble. I guess I really can't fault him there.
There wasn't much room for recovery with that kind of misstep, so when his footing became sporadically uneven and almost a foot deeper than before, his legs buckled down fast. I landed on my back, and it knocked the air out of me. It was very far from the Annie Oakley-esque behavior I typically strive for, and embarrassed me to the core. Especially since Henry saw everything.
"Are you okay? Does anything feel broken?" he asks as I am obviously not okay, and lying in a heap of embarrassment. He offered me his hand to help me up, and I am suddenly revitalized by my stubborn inability to accept help and got myself up from the dusty ground as quickly as I could.
I don’t hate him, don’t get me wrong. He’s my best friend, and 90% of our conversations are just us bantering and half-flirting back and forth. Considering we spend all day working together, we’ve had more than enough time to become close. We know everything about each other and spent pretty much all our off days this summer at the lake, because he knows it’s my favorite spot. He even knows about why I came here in the first place; he’s the only one that does.
He asked me out once for an actual date, instead of our typical friendly hangouts. But when I told him that I didn’t think I was ready to date again just yet, he never pushed. He’s one of the greatest men I know, but I am in no way prepared to be in a relationship again. I worry that I won’t be for the rest of my life.
As I dust myself off, I take a good look at him and his outstretched hand before he drops it back down to his side. His hands are calloused in an oddly attractive way; he’s obviously not the type to shy away from a rough day's work. He's got a burn scar running diagonally over the back of his hand, from a little roping incident not long after he came to Cross Ranch. He has curly, dark brown hair that stops about midway to his collar, and green eyes that look like the reflection of a pine tree in the lake water on a late summer day.
Overall, he is annoyingly tall, tan, and handsome. Even though I rejected his offer to take me out, I can still appreciate everything that God has blessed him with from a distance. He’s everything that most girls dream of, and I can’t honestly say that my dreams are any different. While I was staring at him, I seemed to have forgot how close I am to him. He crosses his arms and looks down at me. I’m 5'8", so he only has six inches over me, but he treats the difference as if it were a mile long and he looks down at me.
With a soft laugh, he says "Are you ever gonna stop being so stubborn?"
"Not in this lifetime," I reply sarcastically and take a few steps back.
After I fell, he must have dismounted and caught Merit, because my favorite braided leather reins that he gave me for my 24th birthday last year were already in his hand, and the horse was by his side staring at me like he'd never been more inconvenienced in his life.
Merit was built like a truck; rugged, built to last, and ready for anything. I credit his hardy composition for the fact that he took that tumble and came out with nothing more than a scratch or two. I took the reins from Henry's hand when he offered, and thanked him for grabbing Mer first, while knowing that he never would have taken off without me. We only have each other, after all.
I give Merit a thorough onceover, and brush some dust off his shiny, but slightly sweaty, chestnut coat. I made him take a few steps and turn circles each way before I was convinced that he wasn’t hurt in any way. Henry had already mounted his horse, Teddy, and turned around to patiently wait for me. But the mare stamped her hoof at me, obviously irritated that I was taking so long.
She was named Teddy because of her brown coat, but lacked a soft, teddy-like personality. She is steadier than the sunrise, but she does not care for being coddled or being still. Henry always says she and I are just alike. She suits Henry perfectly; he's almost too calm and never in a rush, so her impatience balances him out perfectly, creating the perfect team.
Before our little tumble, we were headed to gather cattle from the north pasture to check over and move to the arena for Clara to train a new horse with. Clara was one of the finest riders and trainers in the business. She's made huge strides in the cutting industry as a female, first generation cowgirl, and is one of my biggest inspirations. As an astute woman of God, she runs a tight household and ranch, making sure that all we do glorifies God above all, and the livestock next. A good hand is nothing without a good horse and well cared for cattle.
With those ideals in mind, I was wary of getting back on after our little tumble. But, since Merit was okay, I hopped back on and rode off to finish the move.
Once we were done for the day, I hop off Merit, throw one of the reins over the post, and begin untacking him. While I was loosening the cinch, I thought about how much has changed since I showed up here a year ago with a shiner on my eye, and a shattered heart.
I was so zoned out I didn’t notice Henry walking up to me, so he tried to gently touch my hand to get my attention. I snatch it away a bit more aggressively than I intended, dropping the cinch to the ground in the process, and our fingers brush.
"I'm so sorry, I didn’t mean to… but is everything okay? You seem a bit out of it today," he says as his smile fades from his expression and is replaced by a look of sincere worry.
I shake my head, knocking myself out of another horrifying flashback, thinking about the last time that I pulled away from a man like that, and the lengths it took to get away from him. Henry is a good man. Henry is not him, not everyone is like him.
I feel awful for my reaction, and I look up at him with genuine regret, "Hen, it's not you, I promise."
His shoulders slump in relief as he looks down and says in a little more than a whisper, “Then talk to me, please. I’m really worried about you.”
I looked down at my boots, not knowing where to even start, when he said “Please, Ken. You know you can tell me anything. I’m always here for you.”
“I know, and I really appreciate it. It’s just been a rough day, and I have a lot on my mind… I better get him taken care of before he eats us both” I trail off with a ghost of a laugh, trying to turn the conversation around, and then return to untacking.
As I start towards the barn to return my tack, Henry kindly pulls it all from my hands and says, “I know we need to wrap up here, but why don’t we go out and pick up dinner or something after so we can talk? I’m happy to just be a listening ear if you want to vent about anything.”
“I honestly don’t know if I have it in me today. Honestly, everything just feels so dark.”
“It’s fine if you don’t wanna go out, I completely understand. I’ll go get your usual from Lillian’s and drop it by for you, and if you change your mind and want to talk, I’ll be there. If not, that’s fine too. I hate seeing you like this; please just let me help in any way I can. I promise you don’t always have to do it alone. Let me take this for you, and I’ll see you later.” With that, he gave me reassuring smile and walked away.
I open my mouth to object out of stubborn habit, but went with a quiet, yet sincere “Thank you,” instead. For a moment, I watched him walk away and a wave of gratefulness begin to overwhelm the pain that had been stuck in my chest all day.
I turned back to un-tie Merit and saw Clara was walking up to me with her horse. She nods at Mer and I and says, “Let’s put them up and talk for a second.”
We put them in their respective stalls, and I follow Clara out of the barn towards the arena. She props her leg up on the fence post with a sigh and says, “I understand a lot of things, Kenlyn. But I do not understand you.”
I shake my head in confusion and look at her, “I’m sorry?”
“You are the best hand I have, and one of the best women I know. I’ve never taken you for being blind or foolish, so unless he has done something crazy that I need to know about, I don’t understand why you’re not seeing what God has put right in front of you on a silver platter.” My jaw drops, and I realize that she probably overhears a lot more than she lets on.
Today has already been quite the day, but this really surprised me. Clara has always been very friendly with me, and mentors me through my faith journey, but we’ve never had conversations like this. A tear falls down my cheek, and all my hesitation to open up to her falls along with it, and I say quietly, “I know he’s a good man. I really do. And I care for him far more than I’d like to admit, but when I came here, I was running from a not-so-great man, and I’m not sure that I’m ready to take that risk again. Most men seem great until you really let them in, and I don’t know if I could survive running away from that kind of mental,” I hesitate as more tears fall, “and physical pain again.”
She wipes the tear from my cheek and says, “Oh, honey. I’m truly so sorry to hear that. But please don’t let that pain cause you to close off your heart forever. Do you not believe that God always has a greater plan? He brought you here, didn’t He? You are so strong and have such powerful faith. You need to allow it to carry you through and guide you to take a few leaps every once in a while. I was healing from a similar grief before I met my husband, and I wouldn’t have the happiness I have now if I would have kept my heart sealed away and never given him the chance.”
I nod as I wipe a few more tears away and process everything that she just said. Maybe I have been punishing myself for something that was never my fault in the first place. The way that Matt treated me was never my fault, and the way he reacted when I left proves that. People with that much hate in their hearts will never be better until they choose to turn their lives around. Oddly enough, I hope that what he did to me was enough to lead him to make that change.
Instead of allowing myself to recollect another hateful memory from that night, I remind myself of Henry’s kindness. I remind myself that Henry is not Matthew; that Henry is the kind of man that cares for me even though he has no obligation to. He’s always gone out of his way to look out for me and be there for me. He’s the greatest friend I have.
With that in mind, I finally say, “I really do believe that. I tried to use this time of loneliness to grow closer to Him. The truth is that I’m just too scared, even though I know that Henry would never hurt me like that. It’s just so hard to take that step, even though I want to.”
She squeezes my hand and says, “The growth that I’ve witnessed since I met you has been incredible... maybe He put Henry in your life to show you that good, God-fearing men do exist after you’d lost all hope.” After a brief pause, she said “Let me ask you this– If you bought a new horse, and it turned out to be dangerous and mean, would you sell it and get a new horse, or just sell it and never own one again?”
I told her about the horse I bought before Merit and the two broken bones I acquired from him. But the weight of her question hit me square in the chest. I’ve never been one to just give up before, or to stop trying when things get hard, so why was I doing it when it comes to love? I have so much to give, and living in this kind of fear has brought me nowhere.
She nodded with satisfaction and said proudly, “My point exactly. Now, where would you be if you hadn’t kept looking? I’ve heard you say before that buying Merit was the best thing that ever happened to you. It just goes to show that sometimes the road to the thing you need most is never an easy one, but it’s where it leads you that matters.”
I nod again, understanding the gravity of her point as she pulls me in for a hug that I desperately needed. Breaking away from me, she gently places her hands on my shoulders and looked into my eyes and says, “Now, I’ve seen the way that you look at Henry when you think no one else is looking, and I swear, even your horses know how he feels about you. So, pray about it, and if you feel led, go be brave enough to give that man a chance.”
With that, she gives me an encouraging smile and walks away. I look at the time and realize that he’s probably halfway back from Lillian’s by now. I quickly brush my hair out of my face, wipe the last tear from my eye, and take off towards my truck to head home.
My spirit felt revived with a newfound hope that I hadn’t felt in a while, and everything was a blur until I finally heard a knock on the door. I had enough time to shower, dry my hair, change into my favorite pair of jeans with a nice blue blouse that matches my eyes, and put a little bit of makeup on.
I open up the door to see him standing there, takeout bags in hand. I give him a smile that I haven’t given anyone in a while and take the bags from his hand to sit on the entryway table. Then I wrap my hands around him and tuck my head into his chest. He immediately returns my embrace in a way that felt like he’d been waiting ages for, and his shoulders drop in relief.
After a minute or two I gently pull away from him, take his hands in mine and say “Thank you. For everything. You mean the world to me, truly. Just you being there for me has made all the difference. I woke up with a huge weight on my shoulders this morning, but I’ve realized that I can simply decide to stop carrying it, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do. It’s high time that I stop holding myself back from being happy.”
“I’d do anything for you, Ken. You never have to thank me. I just wanted to make sure you knew that you weren’t alone if you didn’t want to be. I’m glad you found some peace of mind. I’ve been praying that you would.”
I do my best to hold back the tears of joy in my eyes and ask him if he’d rather actually go out to eat and hang out instead of just dropping off the food and leaving like he planned. He tells me that he’d love to and offers to drive me anywhere I want to go.
As I put the food that he brought in my fridge, I jokingly ask “Even if I wanted to go to somewhere crazy like New York City? Or for a deep-dish pizza in Chicago?”
Without hesitation, he says “Even there. Anywhere with you so long as it makes you smile like this.”
My smile speaks louder in response than my words ever could.
With my hand still in his, I let him lead me out the door. Here I am, once again channeling my inner Annie Oakley, and praying to God that I don’t end up back in the dirt, but jumping anyway, with far less fear of the fall and so much excitement for the possibility that lingers in what’s to come.