^{If you missed the first book - Fireflies - you might want to start there. It's here in its completion, written for Steemit. If you enjoy it, feel free to ask to be added to the subscriber list for the sequel, where new chapters are being released daily.}

Entry 8

She didn't know what they called wranglers in Georgia. She wondered about that as the taxi took her to the stables. She knew the group shuttle would be here at 9 - so she arranged to arrive at 8:45. She didn't need the best horse - just the one that connected with her. After riding a few, she settled on that one. The one that matched her boots, actually. He was beautiful. Powerful, but acutely attentive to a good rider.

The wranglers let her ride around a bit, making sure that was the horse she wanted. They admired her skill. It was always nice to watch a connection between a rider and horse, and they knew that they would have no issues with this young woman. She had confidence and actually seemed more at ease with the horse than with people.

It didn't surprise them. They were horse people too. No words were necessary with the horses. Just connection. Understanding. Scents. Emotions. Directions. Horse and rider - easy.

Her back was turned to the road, but she heard the shuttle pull up behind her. The chatter of passengers crescendoed as her new trek-mates exited the vehicle. It was a mass of tangled voices, excited with anticipation. Just as she was about to tune out the white noise, a familiar voice separated from the others with a bright laugh. She cringed as she turned slowly to the approaching group.

She hissed under her breath. "12E."

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