That week, Phil worked overtime with one of the physical therapists on successfully mounting a horse while wearing his wooden leg. The therapist found an old western saddle and attached it to a gymnastics pommel horse, with the pommels removed, of course.[1}

Phil quickly became an expert at locking the prosthetic knee, lifting his good left leg into the saddle’s left stirrup while facing his horse’s rump, then using his left hand to hold the saddle horn while lifting himself and then throwing his right thigh and prosthesis over the saddle.

When he was in place atop the horse, he placed the prosthetic foot into its stirrup. His confidence increased dramatically as the week went on.

When the Saturday morning ride arrived, he was nervous. But Mary Katherine was understanding and accommodating. Within a fenced riding arena, Phil successfully mounted one of her father’s Thoroughbreds on his first try. He couldn’t believe how good it felt to be in the saddle again.

As he settled in, taking in the rich leather aroma, he felt his lip tremble and tears form.

What happened next stunned him: Mary Katherine removed his right wooden foot from the stirrup, replaced it with her own, and, standing up in the stirrup, she leaned next to him, gently wiped his tears, and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek.

“Let’s go for a ride,” she said, hopping down to the ground. She replaced his artificial foot in the stirrup, mounted her horse, and they started with a trot and advanced to a canter.

At one point, his horse inexplicably and suddenly bucked, and before he knew it, he was face down in musky riding arena loam.

Phil was embarrassed, but before he could pull himself up, Mary Katherine quickly dismounted and was at his side, helping him sit up while comforting him. She was incredibly tender.

Their third kiss was on the riding arena floor—and this one was not on his cheek! It was soft and sweet, and he did not want to stop.

“All right, soldier,” she coaxed, laughing. “Back in the saddle. But be more careful. I think your artificial knee may have pinched him. Let’s switch your saddle to one with a fender.”

Phil felt his forehead furrow. That was a horse term he hadn’t heard before.

Mary Katherine laughed. “It’s a piece of leather that goes between the stirrup and the seat. Here, I’ll show you.”

They walked back to the barn, changed saddles, and were off again. This time, their ride together was delightful and without incident.

Before long, they departed the arena and were galloping through forested paths, jumping small obstacles, and wading through streams. Phil could see she was as pleased with his progress as he was.

After dismounting in the late afternoon, they walked the horses back to the barn, holding hands. They put up the tack, brushed and fed the horses, stabled them, and then sat on a bench to continue talking.

Phil decided this was the happiest he’d been since he arrived home.

~~~~~

[1] Larimore, At First Light, 284-285.

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