by Ariel Tachna
Shifting slightly in the saddle as well as moving the stirrups, Gerald tried to find the middle ground Brett was prompting him toward. Tiny kept moving, apparently oblivious to the shuffling above him. When the horse started to edge toward a different letter, Gerald pulled slightly on the rein in the direction he wanted to go without thinking.
Brett smiled when Gerald corrected Tiny’s bit of willfulness. As wonderful a horse as Tiny was, he occasionally decided to wander over to Brett in the middle of a lesson in hopes of finding a treat. Gerald had had no trouble adjusting, even without instruction. While his form was still mildly awkward, the stable owner suspected the other man would be a natural given a little time to practice. When Gerald drew Tiny to a halt at the designated spot, Brett smiled. “Good. And you steered him well. Ready for something a little more complicated?”
“I don’t mind trying,” Gerald said, turning his chin to give Brett a pleased smile. Although this was really simple stuff, he knew, it was really, really neat, and he loved it so far.
Returning Gerald’s smile, Brett grabbed a stack of cones and set them in a row down the middle of the ring. “Guide him through the cones, weaving back and forth.”
A look of concentration formed on Gerald’s face as he told Tiny to walk again, this time pulling the reins right and left as the horse clomped around the cones with a few snorts. Gerald stopped him at the other end, that same grin appearing as he turned his chin to find Brett.
Gerald’s enthusiasm was infectious. “Enjoying yourself?” Brett asked, echoing the other man’s huge smile. “Want to try a trot?”
Nodding immediately, Gerald took the initiative to get Tiny to turn around so they were facing Brett. “Not being too ambitious, am I?”
Brett shook his head. “We’re not done, by any means, even with the walk, but there’s no reason not to let you see what the trot feels like. Put both reins in one hand, grab Tiny’s mane with the other, and push up so you’re out of the saddle. Don’t worry about steering, just about keeping your balance. Remember, heels down, directly beneath you. Tiny’s trot is relatively smooth, but it’s definitely a different feeling from the walk. When you’re ready to stop, just pull back on the reins and sit back.”
Standing up in the stirrups proved easier than Gerald expected, especially since Brett had already positioned his feet correctly. By holding on to both Tiny’s mane and the reins, he didn’t feel like he was going to fall anywhere. And before he could think anymore about it, Tiny started moving and then bouncing. He actually bounced a laugh right out of Gerald.
Brett sat back and watched, letting Gerald’s joy warm him. He worked with so many spoiled kids who didn’t have the patience to learn or the experience to appreciate simple pleasures. To work with an adult who wanted to learn and embraced the entire experience was a real treat.
On the second round around the ring, Gerald was feeling much more comfortable, so he sat down as directed, and Tiny came to a slow stop. Turning the horse’s head, Gerald looked around for Brett again. “That was great,” he said happily.
“So have I hooked you?” Brett teased, pretty sure he already knew the answer to that question.
“I’m grinning like a fool,” Gerald said with a laugh. “I think it’s pretty clear I’m hooked.” He leaned over and patted Tiny’s neck again, and the horse nickered and huffed.
“Then we should go look at a schedule and get you on it for the next month,” Brett replied. “Bring Tiny over here, and let’s see if you can walk after all your exercise.”
Gerald raised his eyebrows, looking worried already. “I hope you’re teasing,” he said, getting Tiny to ride over to Brett. “As much as I like riding so far, I’m rather fond of walking.”
Brett chuckled. “Mostly,” he agreed. “You haven’t been riding all that long or hard today anyway, but there’s very little else that uses your inner thigh muscles the way riding does, and so until those get built up, you’ll be stiff and sore after you ride. I’ve been riding all my life, and I even feel it some days if I ride harder or longer than usual.”
“Great. I didn’t fall on my ass getting up here, but I will getting down,” Gerald said, heaving a sigh. “Oh well.” He halted Tiny next to Brett. “Off now?”
“Just do the opposite of what you did to get on. Grab his mane, swing your leg back over and slide down,” Brett told him. “I’ve got Tiny’s head, so you don’t have to worry about him going anywhere on you.”
Gerald took a steadying breath and made sure he was holding on tight before shifting his weight slowly to his left foot and sliding over and off the saddle. He landed unevenly on his right foot, bumping against Tiny before getting the other foot out of the stirrup, and then backed away slowly, hands out to each side of himself in case he lost his balance. “Okay,” Gerald said cautiously.
“How do you feel?” Brett asked, coming to stand at his side, Tiny following along behind like an overgrown puppy.
“Fine, I guess,” Gerald said, straightening up to stand casually. “I guess I’ll see, huh?” Without realizing it, so caught up in the new experience, he offered that pure smile to Brett again. “Thank you. Really.”
“You’re welcome. Let me put Tiny away, and then we can go in the office and get you on the schedule,” Brett said. “You can just wait in the office if you want, although you might find it easier to keep walking.”
“I think I’ll be smart and take your word for it. Mind if I wander around a little outside?” Gerald asked.
“Go ahead,” Brett said. “Just don’t open any gates. There are a few horses out, and I don’t want Shah getting in with the mares. I’d rather choose when and with whom I breed him.”
“Okay.” Gerald watched as Brett turned and led Tiny out of the ring. With a soft harrumph Gerald realized he was watching the man more so than the horse. Something about the way Brett moved caught his eye, but he couldn't quite figure it out. But he liked it. Wrinkling his nose, Gerald turned and started walking.
Getting Tiny settled back into his stall, Brett returned the equipment to the tack room and walked outside to find Gerald after a few minutes. The man was walking slowly back and forth along the fence line, looking out over the fields. Coming to lean on the fence, Brett just watched, smiling at the familiar stiff gait of people who’d ridden for the first time. It would get worse before it would get better, as they worked seldom-used muscles, but eventually, if he kept with it, Gerald would lose that stiffness, moving between horseback and ground with relaxed ease. Brett hoped he’d get to see it. He had a feeling it would be a sight very pleasing to the eye, what with those long legs and lean body. He wondered what Gerald did to maintain that. Run, maybe? Swim? Horseback riding would fit well with either of those.
Gerald spent the time walking and watching the horses. He could feel the muscles in his legs tightening up, just like Brett had warned. He smiled ruefully. It didn’t hurt as much as his first skiing lesson—at least not yet. After some musing, he turned back and saw Brett waiting. He studied him some more as he approached him, noting idly that he really was a good-looking man. Brett had mentioned being done with women. Maybe he was divorced.
“Doing okay?” Brett asked when Gerald reached his side. At Gerald’s nod, he tilted his head toward the office. “Let’s go inside and look at the schedule. You can tell me what days you want to come.”
“Yeah, sounds good,” Gerald said. “Lead the way.”
Brett showed Gerald into the office, sat down behind the desk, and pulled out a large planner. He opened it up and skimmed down the month. “Tuesdays and Thursdays at six definitely work,” he told Gerald. “Private lessons are forty dollars an hour. You might want to start with half-hour lessons though, until you get used to riding. Otherwise, twice a week could be painful, and I don’t want you to get burned out or turned off it. So it would be forty a week, if you want to do it that way.”
Gerald turned his wandering attention from the office back to the man in front of him. “Sounds good. You’r
e the expert, you know. What do you take? Check, credit?” he asked.
“Either,” Brett replied, amazed at the ease with which Gerald accepted the price. He didn’t look like he was one of the snobbish society types, but some of the other people who came at least hesitated a bit.
“How about I pay a month down, and we’ll go from there?” Gerald said as he pulled his wallet out of his back pocket.
“That’s how most of my customers handle it,” Brett agreed, filling the lessons into his appointment calendar. “It’ll make it a hundred sixty for the next four weeks.”
Gerald offered a standard Visa without comment. “So is what I’m wearing okay to start?” He was pretty sure he wanted to stick with it, but he’d learned over time not to jump quickly into committing to things.
“Yeah, jeans are fine,” Brett replied, taking the card and processing it. “If you’ve got an old pair of shoes with a heel, they’re better than gym shoes, but don’t buy anything fancy or expensive. The only time you’d need them is if you were showing. Otherwise, just a beat-up old pair of hiking boots is your best bet.”
Gerald nodded and shifted slightly back and forth on his feet. He was feeling it on the insides of his thighs, just like Brett said he would. It reminded him sort of how he felt after a marathon session with his legs wrapped around…. “Excuse me?” Gerald asked, clearing his throat, realizing Brett had said something.
“Hiking boots,” Brett repeated, a little confused at the odd look on Gerald’s face. “You know, those things you wear in the woods to protect your feet.”
“Yeah. Sorry, got distracted for a sec. Hiking boots. I’ve got an old pair around somewhere, I think,” Gerald said, nodding.
“Great. I’ll see you Thursday a little before six then,” Brett said. “If you come early, you can help me get Tiny ready without it cutting into your riding time.”
“It’ll depend on work, but I’d like that,” Gerald answered, signing the sales slip and putting the card back into his wallet.
Brett showed Gerald back out and leaned against the corner of the stable as this Gerald Saunders got into his car and started to drive off. If Brett stayed there, staring into space long after the car disappeared, well, that was nobody’s business but his own.
GERALD jogged out of the house Thursday afternoon, dragging the door shut behind him. He’d already decided that he liked having a reason to leave the office on time or even a little early. He admitted that he worked a lot more than most anyone else, but it was mostly because he had nothing else to do. When you worked half again as much as your peers, just by sheer numbers you tended to get ahead. Today, he’d closed up his computer and left a little past four, just because he could. It took about twenty minutes to drive to the farm, and he pulled in about twenty to six.
Gerald climbed out of the car and shut the door, looking around. There was a group of horses with riders out in the pasture, and there were more cars here than the other day. Not sure where to go, he headed for the stable where Tiny was.
Brett refused to let himself stand outside and wait or even check to see if a car was coming up the road to the farm. Gerald would get here when he got here. He had more than enough work to do without waiting like a teenager with a brand-new crush on a man who probably had no interest in other men. But Brett looked up automatically when he heard a car door shut, unable to stop the smile that crossed his face at seeing Gerald arrive. He ran a hand over his sweaty, stubbly face, glad he’d decided not to make a move in Gerald’s direction to see if there might be some interest there. He’d be off to a lousy start if he had, looking like a mess! Throwing a last bale of hay onto the wagon, he closed the door to the storage room and called out a greeting to Gerald.
“Hey,” Gerald answered with a wave. “It’s busy today.”
“Yeah, I’ve got a group of beginners out today, older elementary kids. Horse crazy. Lisa works with the kids during the week,” Brett admitted, “since I far prefer working with adults.”
“So who’s going to be my teacher?” Gerald asked, looking over Brett’s shoulder at another couple of guys working with the horses further into the stable.
“I figured I would,” Brett replied, hoping the relative dimness of the stable and his tan would hide the flush he could feel heating his face, “unless you’d rather one of the other guys.”
Gerald blinked, tipped his head to one side, and paid a bit more attention to the man in front of him. Lessons from the owner? He wondered how usual that was. “I’d like you to teach me,” he said before he smiled awkwardly.
“Let’s get started then,” Brett said, enjoying his pleasure at Gerald’s agreement. “The tack is in here.” He led Gerald down to the tack room. “Tiny’s bridle is there with his name on it, and I’ll grab a saddle. You’ll need a blanket and western pad. They’re right outside on the shelves along with the helmets. I leave them there so they can air out.”
Tiny’s bridle in hand, Gerald followed Brett and paused at the shelves to pick up the indicated items. Then he tagged along as Brett hefted the saddle. “I guess you don’t lift weights in the off hours.”
Brett chuckled. “No, saddles and hay bales and bags of oats are all the lifting I can handle in a day. I don’t think I’ve ever actually lifted weights, now that you mention it.”
“It’s boring as hell,” Gerald muttered, his nose turning up.
Brett chuckled. “If you really don’t enjoy it, you can hang out here on the weekends. I’ll put you to work, and you’ll never know you didn’t lift.”
“I make myself do it at least a little to even out all the running I do in the mornings,” Gerald explained as they stopped at Tiny’s stall. “I just might take you up on that offer to help around here, though. If I have to watch one more minute of CNN once I leave work, I think I’ll go postal.”
Brett laughed again, something he just now noticed he did a lot when Gerald was around. “No CNN here,” he promised. “Just horse shit and screaming kids. And I won’t make you deal with the kids.” He slid open the door to Tiny’s stall and handed Gerald the halter.
“I honestly couldn’t tell you which I think is worse,” Gerald said, taking the tack automatically. “At least the crap doesn’t yell.”
“No, it just smells,” Brett said with a grin. “You gonna put that halter on him, or you just gonna stand there?”
“Huh? Oh!” Gerald slung the blanket and pad over the stall’s wall and turned the halter over. “So just up over the nose?” He looked from the leather in his hands to Tiny’s bobbing head.
“Put the buckle in your left hand and the strap in your right hand. Reach under his chin like you’re going to hug him, and flip the strap over his head behind his ears,” Brett instructed. “Then fasten the strap.”
Following Brett’s instructions made it easy, and soon the halter was in place. Tiny whuffed and pushed his nose into Gerald’s chest; Gerald stumbled a half-step back. “Whoa, Tiny. A little warning, huh?” Gerald righted himself and stroked along the horse’s nose.
“He isn’t big on warnings.” Brett chuckled, “but he doesn’t have a malicious bone in his body. He’s just saying hi and hoping for a treat. Give him a couple more weeks, and he’ll be saying ‘Hi, Gerald’… and hoping for a treat.”
Gerald grinned and patted Tiny’s side. “I think I’m seeing a pattern there, Tiny,” he said. He turned his attention to his instructor. “Now what?” Gerald bounced a little on his toes, excited to be there and happy that Tiny seemed to like him so much.
“Now we take him outside and get him dressed,” Brett replied. “Unless you think you’re ready for bareback.”
“What do you think? Is bareback any better or easier?” Gerald asked as he grabbed the blanket from the wall to offer to Brett.
Brett had to turn away. God, the man was cute. Clueless, but cute. If he weren’t so obviously straight, he’d push Gerald up against the wall of Tiny’s stall and kiss him senseless right now, but he didn’t have time to educate a straig
ht man. “You’d better wait until you know Tiny a little better.”
“Okay,” Gerald agreed, unfazed. He looked over to Brett and held out the blanket again. “I’m guessing this goes under the saddle.”
Oh boy. Clueless.
“Yes, it protects Tiny’s back from the leather, but you have to make sure it’s completely flat and straight or it can rub a sore,” Brett explained, watching carefully as Gerald put the blanket on Tiny’s back. “Scoot it forward a little.”
Gerald made sure the blanket was just so, smoothing it out carefully and making sure he remembered exactly where Brett had the padding laid out. “Okay, I think I’ve got it,” Gerald said. “What’s next?” He glanced over his shoulder to see Brett’s eyes focused on him intently, and he raised one brow in question.
“Saddle next,” Brett directed, ignoring the questioning look on Gerald’s face. If he stopped to explain, they’d be here for the next hour and completely miss Gerald’s lesson.
With Brett’s direction, Gerald got the saddle settled on Tiny’s back and the girth strap fitted. Tiny bobbed his head and leaned forward to snuffle at Brett’s pockets, and Gerald smiled. “Looks like somebody wants his reward before he performs.”
“He figures he’s performing by standing here and letting you fumble with the blankets and the saddle.” Expertly, Brett grabbed the bridle, slipping it on with a single practiced move, bit between Tiny’s teeth, headpiece over his ears. “We’ll save the bridle for a little later,” Brett said as he fastened the chin strap. “It’s a little harder to put on, even when Tiny’s being agreeable.”
Gerald watched anyway, although his eyes were caught more on how deftly Brett’s hands moved so easily while at the same time petting Tiny. “I think he’s a ham,” Gerald said of the big horse.
“You’re just now figuring this out?” Brett asked with a grin. “Come on; put your helmet on and walk him to the ring so we can get started.”
