The next morning, Colter had arranged a meeting with the owner of Amaretti. I hadn't known her name, until he casually mentioned it when I stepped inside his truck. "It's a mare, Amaretti. Seven years old, a paint."

"Amaretti?" The name brought back many memories. Memories of Mamma. Memories of Amelie. I could smell the Italian cookies, Mamma taking the tray out of the oven. I would stand beside her, watching her as she slowly slid them off the hot tray to let them cool off. I couldn't ever wait for them to be cooled down, neither could Mamma. We would grab some, blow off the steam and try them, sometimes burning our tongues.

Amelie adored the biscuits. I baked them for her for any occasion, her birthday, the anniversary of her sister's death to cheer her up, when her parents had an anniversary- any occasion was an excuse to bake them for her. I loved that she loved them. I liked watching her eat them, humming in pleasure, actually enjoying part of my roots.

"What about it?" Colter dragged me out of my thoughts.

"A childhood memory. Those are Italian biscuits." I mumbled out, not trying to be too sentimental.

Colter grinned. "As if it's meant to be."

We arrived about thirty minutes later. We had driven a lone road, through high mountains with small streams following us along. His terrain was vast, but only a few horses grazed in a pasture. The barn looked old, but once inside, the grounds were neatly swept and the stables freshly painted. I shook his hand.

"Hunter, nice to meet you." He grinned a little, rubbing his fingers through his grey beard. His hair, at some places dirty blonde, while other strands had turned grey already, were mostly hidden beneath his hat. I noticed people actually did wear them a lot here, and it wasn't just in my imagination. "So, you're the new, young cowboy in town everyone is talking about?"

"I suppose so." I let out a chuckle. He nodded his head, observed me from the top of my head, all the way down to my toes.

"You came for my Amaretti, I heard. I think she could be the perfect horse for you."

"Why are you selling her?" I wondered, following him through the barn to the last box, where I could hear a soft tail sweeping and the plucking of hay out of a haynet.

Hunter stuffed his hands in the back pockets of his trousers. "She's only seven, but I can't give her the exercise she needs and deserves. She just stands around, slumbering. A shame." He murmured, pointing at her.

I instantly fell in love. It wasn't exactly about her appearance. She wasn't a special appearance- a Quarter horse, brown and white paint, but with minimal white markings. Most of them were on her butt, with an irregular blaze on her face, widening at the end, making her nose white and pink and her eyes both brown and blue. Her manes and tail were black, her feet white. I couldn't exactly pinpoint what it was about her, but perhaps, it had been her Italian name.

Amaretti looked up when we stood still in front of her. She sniffled my hand, her breath warmed my skin. With her lips, she tried to get ahold of my fingers. I grinned, liked her. "You bred her?"

"Yeah, all those horses are bred by me."

"Used to tack? Riding? Traffic? Hikes?"

"Yes."

"History in the western world? Barrel racing? Driving cattle, whatsoever?"

Hunter glanced at me, then at Colter. "What, you ask for the perfect horse, all wrapped up in paper and with a red ribbon tied around it?"

"I suppose so, sir." I gave him a nod.

"Well, then you're right. She's used to everything. Feel free to ride her to see if you two connect."

Within no time, she was saddled up. I needed to get used to her rhythm. She was bigger than the horses back in England, quicker, too. But I instantly fell for her. I took her up to the mountains, standing still when I had a view. I saw Hunter and Colter in the distance, thought about everything that had happened the past few days. It felt surreal. To be fair, it was surreal.

The feeling of the freedom I had longed for since childhood was strong, barged in through my heart, and took over my mind. I smiled.

Amaretti was calm, but didn't hesitate when I squeezed my legs a little. She ran off. It felt like I was a bird, freely roaming around, with just the sound of the wind surrounding me. The strings had been cut fully. And I had needed that so badly.

When I came back, I panted, sliding off her. "I'll take her."

Colter grinned, "I knew you'd love her."

"Sure you don't want to come back tomorrow to see if the feeling's still the same?" Hunter asked, helping me untack her.

"No, I'm sure." It had to be the name. I couldn't bear leaving her behind now. "But I don't have a trailer, we will need to pick her up tomorrow."

"No need." Hunter gestured to something behind him, where I could see a horse trailer standing in the barn. "I can bring her over, it's no problem. With the thought that she's going to be stabled at yours?" He turned to Colter, who nodded.

"Are you sure?" I, too, turned to Colter.

"The sooner she gets the exercise, the better, right?"

We signed some papers, I handed him the money, and Amaretti, plus her tack, were officially mine. When we had arrived back at Colter's, we unloaded her, while the workers had already prepared her a fresh straw bed in her new stall. A hay net had been hung up, the automatic waterer bowl was cleaned, so I thanked them with a smile.

When she was all settled, I sat down in her stall, watching her eat. My horse. My own horse. A little boy's cowboy dream come true. Well, partly, for now at least. There was plenty of work to be done. But, I wanted her to be settled fully first, before I wanted to practice. I wasn't sure if I would be able to manage that in a few weeks, but I would surely try.

It had been two days after I had bought Amaretti when Colter knocked upon the caravan door. They had moved out a week ago, but we still had to talk about the rent prices. I opened the door and welcomed him inside, opening two Moretti beers.

"Afternoon." Colter gave a nod, flicking his fingers against his hat.

"Colter." I handed him the beer and we sat down on the small sofa, while Colter retrieved some papers and most likely, the contract I needed to sign. "You enjoying living in a proper house again?" I chuckled lightly.

Colter grinned. "I must say that no matter how much I enjoy the camping life, a proper bath, kitchen and toilet are also very nice. And, a good mattress. But I do miss being near the stables."

It was true. The stables, which Colter owned, were lying in a valley, surrounded by pine trees with a lake nearby. The caravan stood somewhere between the pine trees, with a view on the stables, the paddock, and the exercise ring. That way, I was really close to Amaretti, I could see her when she grazed outside, or when I had put her in the paddock to let go of some of her energy.

Colter's house was fifteen minutes away by car. He had appointed someone who was in charge of how things went during the day at the stables. He instructed the workers, and made sure everything was looking neat and tidy.

On the left was a barn full of cows and even some bulls, which were used for the rodeos around the area. I liked walking there, watching the bulls, fantasizing about the day where I would finally be able to ride one.

There were just a few other caravans surrounding the barn and stables, but I was not entirely sure whom they belonged to.

"I can imagine." I answered, taking a sip of my beer. It tasted bittersweet. Moretti was Mamma's last name. it reminded me of nonna e nonno. What would they think of my choice? Had Papà informed them about me? I shivered at that thought. "So, the money matters. Let's get on with it."

Colter raised his eyebrow. "Such haste."

"No." I answered, pointing at the stables. "I'm dying to try out Amaretti again."

Colter grinned. "Understandable." He laid out all of the papers. "This all looks very formal, but I need it for my bookkeeping. So, these are the conditions of renting, and this is the price."

Reading all of the conditions, the price and how he had gotten to that amount, I frowned lightly. "I do not agree."

Colter grinned again. "And why's that?"

"Well, you said it yourself. The water pressure of the shower isn't working properly. Either, I'm standing there with barely any drops, ice cold, or it comes down heavily, burning my skin in an instant. It's not stable, same with the toilet. And, there must be something wrong with the gas connection, for the stove falls out often. So, unless you get that fixed, I won't pay this amount."

Colter started laughing, shaking his head. "How old are you again?"

I observed him for a silent moment. He wasn't going to fool me. "I mean it."

"Right, right. I forgot about your little job back at home." Colter crossed the amount, scribbling things down on the contract. The things I had just said, which he needed to fix. "Outsmarted."

"That's called negotiating."

Colter mumbled something under his breath. He wrote down a new amount of money. But still, I didn't agree.

"It's too much. Have you seen the state of this caravan? And besides, there's no way the rodeo will let you earn this much."

He furrowed his dark blonde eyebrows. "If you're good, it will. Much and much more than that, even. And besides, I think you're forgetting just the small detail that your horse is stabled at my stable, where it gets hay and water and you can use all of the practice rings for free."

He had a point there. I hadn't thought of that. After reading all of the conditions for one last time, we got to an agreement, and I signed the contract.

"I've had many cowboys renting this caravan, and after the rental period was over, we usually got to the agreement of giving me a certain percentage of the prize money. That way, the coaching and the renting would be covered for just a small part. But, we shall see if it ever comes to that." Colter chugged his beer down, gave me a nod and a pat on my shoulder. "Young but clever. The rodeo circuit is going to have to watch out for you."

I grinned at that, secretly celebrating this 'mature' step.

Later that day, I felt that it was the right time to work with Amaretti. I was more than excited, however, that feeling changed the moment I put her halter on.

She seemed restless, neighed constantly, her eyes wide, her hoof scraping the floor. I watched her for a moment, mumbled: "What's wrong there, girl?" Amaretti paid no attention to me, her eyes raked over the area, she snorted as if she was scared.

Frowning lightly, I stroked my hand over her manes, whispering quietly. "Come on, it will be okay. We will only go outside." Clicking the read rope to her halter, I tried to remember if she had been this nervous the day where I met her. But I couldn't recall, what I could recall was that she had sniffed my hand softly, had seemed calm.

When I opened her door and walked out, it went wrong. Before I knew it, she ran off, to which I fell to the floor and slid all the way out of the barn. Profanities left my mouth when my elbows and knees got scraped, but I refused to let go of the rope. "Stop that!" I yelled, trying to tug at the rope, but she wouldn't stop. My palms were burning by the friction, and I was certain that holes had been burned in my trousers by the sliding.

I could not hold onto it anymore, so I let go of her, hissing at the pain. I opened my palms, saw how my skin had been ripped off. They would turn into nasty blasters. My trousers had indeed ripped at my knees, which were bleeding, as well as my elbows. I looked up to where Amaretti had ran off to. She stood near the paddock, looking at me, her nostrils flaring. What was up with her? She acted like a completely different horse.

A stable-boy ran over to me, looking down at me in concern. "Are you alright? I heard her storm off. Oh, that darned horse!" he frowned deeply, stretching his hand out to me. I refused to take it, stood up myself and tried to ignore the pain that was harshly making my palms, knees and elbows throb.

Anger rushed through me, but I tried to calm myself before walking over to her. When I got ahold of her rope, I tried taking her to the paddock, where she did it again. I fell face flat in the sand, but I was grateful that she, at least, ran into the paddock. I kicked the gate, so it would close, and she had no chance of escaping again.

Glancing at the injuries, they were now mixed with sand and blood. A good combination? Not at all. Did I want to do anything about that? Not at all, either.

I observed Amaretti for a while, trying to catch my breath. Had Hunter drugged her, the day I came to look at her? I knew it was a phenomena that happened, but I had trusted Colter deeply, he wouldn't let my buy drugged horses, would he?

The stable-boy came over again. To which I innerly sighed.

"What's that? Did you take her from the wild herd from up the mountains?"

I huffed. "I bought her from a man called Hunter."

The boy's eyes darkened. "I see."

I gave him a look. "What about him?"

"Nothing." He cleared his throat, raising his eyebrows at me. "Good luck with her. And, oh, work the try-out dream out of your head. You're never going to make it."

Vuoi litigare? I thought to myself, curling my hands into fists. The more people said I could not do it, the more I wanted to prove that I could. I knew I was seen as the British Italian cowboy who wore pantalons and v-neck sweaters to parties, but I also knew that the desire that I'd had inside of me for many, many years, the theories I had learned and seen, the tricks, although so less, Mr. Wood had given me, would be the right start to achieve what I had always wanted to achieve.

But maybe it weren't the people I needed to convince that for. Maybe it was for me, myself. For reasons I did not understand, back then.

Furious about the incidents, I called up Colter, explaining him the situation. "This is certainly not the horse I saw back at Hunter's place."

"Well, I don't know what you mean, but he's always been fair with me."

"With you? Just you? Or anybody else?" I spat out.

"Aye, Benjamin, calm down a little, would you? If you think he hasn't been honest, I can give him a ring. But I've known Hunter for all my life, and never has he lied about his horses."

"You can come take a look and see for yourself."

When Colter had taken a look, profanities had left his mouth as well. He could not believe that Hunter hadn't been honest while selling this mare, so he promised me that he would confront Hunter about it and see what we could do about this situation.

Which means that the try-outs still sounded too far away.

---

Benjamin, dear Benjamin. How do you think this story will unfold? 

What do you think of Amaretti?

And what about Colter?

Let me know your thoughts! Love, Jo

(Sorry about the delayed update. I have been in shock since the passing of Liam. Those boys were my childhood, a place I could return to when I felt like I needed to go back to the carefree years. Now that he is gone, it has all a different meaning. I feel so extremely sorry for him. He truly did not deserve all of this to happen. As my 'Directioner' heart is crushed, I hope that we can all think of the good times we'd have with the boys, in any way. And please, if you feel the need to talk, do so.)