My anticipation for this afternoon is almost overwhelming. It’s as big as my anticipation for my first day working with Jessie. Throwing the covers back, I skip out of bed and to the bathroom for a shower. If Stuart’s already up, it means he’s in the barn, and I’m not wasting time joining him.
When I finally jog down the porch steps toward the stables, the sun is halfway to the center of the enormous sky. I clutch two breakfast burritos Winona handed me on my way out—one for me and the other for my early-riser—as I hustle through the barn, quickly scanning the stalls.
Stuart isn’t in the barn, but Jessie is. She’s in her pen, keeping to the very back, facing the corner where the wooden slats meet. I don’t hesitate for a moment. I go straight to the door and lean against it, making that clicking sound with my mouth like Stuart and his uncle do.
Her black ears perk. She lets out a soft horsey-noise and stamps her small hooves. She’s so pretty.
“Hey, girl,” I say as if I’m talking to a puppy. “I’m your friend. I’m going to teach you how to be a good little horsey.”
She makes another whinny, and I climb onto the gate, balancing with my arms on the top rail. A green apple is in my pocket, and I move both burritos to my right hand while I fish out the fruit with my left.
“Come on,” I say softly. “Come see what I’ve got for you.”
Her eyes are on me, and that white moon is in clear view. I love her so much.
“Come on!” I say in a slightly higher tone, holding the green fruit straight out. “Come get your apple.”
Her legs shake, and I can tell it’s taking all of her willpower to overcome her fear. I don’t move a muscle, in fact, every muscle in my body cramps at how rigid I’ve become. I don’t want to scare her at all.
Several small steps, and her velvet nose brushes my fingertips. We’re so close. I know if she takes this gift from me, I’ll change in her eyes. I’ll be a bearer of sweets, a good guy. I hold my breath in anticipation.
Another loud breath, and her lips flap back. She extends her teeth and takes the crisp apple out of my hand. Two strong grinds, and it’s gone. Crunched between her small but powerful jaws. Our relationship is established.
“You’re going to be my horse,” I continue in the same soft voice. “I named you Jessie. Do you like that?”
Her head drops, but only for a second. As if realizing what she’s done, she whips it up again, still stubborn. Her eyes are on me, though, curious.
“I know about stubborn,” I say, watching her. “I’m in love with someone even more stubborn than you are. We’ll be friends. Trust me.”
Jessie shakes her head and turns back to the corner just as strong arms cage me on the door.
“Making friends?” Stuart’s low voice is warm against my shoulder, and I can’t help it. I start to laugh.
“I gave her an apple!” Reaching over my shoulder, I clutch his sleeve while I watch my amazing horse.
He leans in and kisses the side of my neck. It’s a delicious tingle, and I jump down, my head at the center of his chest in my riding boots.
“Here,” I hold out a burrito. “Winona sent you this.”
He takes it with an eager noise of thanks. The paper napkin is off and the breakfast devoured in three bites before I’ve even started my second. It’s a buttery, savory mixture of eggs, onions, tasso, and jalapenos.
“I don’t usually like spicy food, but Winona has a way of making it so good.” Stuart watches with a grin as I finish and even lick my fingers.
Once our trash is discarded, he leads me to the tack room. “First order of business. If you’re going to be a horse woman, you have to be able to saddle and bridle your own horse.”
I pause. Saddles don’t bother me, but bridles… ice fills my stomach at the thought of putting my hand so close to a horse’s teeth. “I don’t think Jessie—”
“Jessie is a ways away from any of this. But if you’re going to get her there, you have to know what you’re doing.”
I watch his strong muscles flex as he heaves one of the heavy western saddles off a sawhorse. “Ranger is already bridled, so I can saddle him up. You’ll watch me on this part, then you can start from the beginning with Cheyenne.”
Nodding, my eyes are round as I follow him into the alley and to the stalls. Ranger lifts his head in a very unconcerned manner over his door.
“He does this every day,” I say, attempting to break the growing tension in my stomach.
“He’s a good horse,” Stuart says, opening the door with his leg. “But he’s still temperamental. Dakota and Cheyenne are the least likely to move when you’re learning.”
Climbing onto the wooden rails, I watch as he raises the leather saddle and then places it easily on the thick pad on Ranger’s back. The horse doesn’t even flinch at the weight being adjusted on him.
“Now pay attention.” Opening the door, he stops the horse just outside the stall. I turn on the fence so I’m still higher than the two of them, watching.
Stuart continues with his lesson. “When you fasten the girth, you do a simple front to back until it’s short, then cross it over and down. Just like tying a tie.”
Watching, I chew my lip. “I’m not sure I can lift a saddle that high.”
He nods. “I’ll help the first few times, but you need to know how to do it. Now come here.”
For a second I pause then I hop off the rail and walk over to where he’s holding the thick leather strap at the heavy loop on Ranger’s belly.
“See if you can tighten it up a little more.”
Stepping back, he watches as I pull the center leather strap up and then slide the excess around the loop and down.
“Good.” It’s not overly enthusiastic, but any words of praise are huge to me. “You have to go back and tighten it a few more times before you get on. They’ll distend their stomachs at first to keep it loose.”
Ranger looks as placid as a lake when Stuart walks in front of him and gently pats his knee-pit. “Sometimes you need to pull their legs to ease out any kinks in the skin.”
Finally he seems satisfied, and without a word, he heads back to the tack room. I have no option but to follow. I watch as he lifts a slim leather bridle off a hook and heads back out the door.
“I have to touch her mouth for this part.” My voice is low and shaky, and I feel slightly nauseated. This is not the time for my first round of morning sickness. Lucky for me, it’s only terror.
“She knows what you’re doing. She’ll work with you.” He stops to open the door to Cheyenne’s stall. “You can’t do this if you’re afraid of them.”
The large brown mare stands passively watching me as I follow him into her narrow room. “I’m not afraid,” I lie.
Stopping beside her neck, he looks down at me. “You ready?”
I know my mouth is open, so I close it. Quickly nodding, I reach for the leather and metal contraption. “I’m too short. I can’t reach the top of her head.”
“Stand beside her neck, put the reins over her head, and reach between her ears.”
I’m acutely aware of how small I am standing beside this massive horse, and I feel my heart beating faster as I reach up high, sliding my palm between her ears. My insides release when she immediately lowers her head, and I fight the urge to squeal, It’s working! I have to be cool.
“Hold the bit on the side…” Stuart quietly directs, and miraculously, Cheyenne opens her teeth for the metal bar to slide in place.
My breath rushes out in a whoosh! “She let me do it!” My voice is small and shaky, and I try to calm my heartbeat. My legs are like noodles.
“You’re not finished.”
Looking up at her, I realize the top part isn’t over her ears, and a skinny leather strap is dangling at her jaw.
“Right,” I whisper, gently tilting her large, soft ears and sliding them under the top of the bridle.
“Now buckle the side.” Stuart waits as I finish the last step.
Bac
king up, I hold both my hands out in front of me. “I did it!” Looking up at him quickly, I see a hint of a smile in the corner of his mouth. It’s all I need. I jump forward and hug him. “I bridled a horse!”
That makes him laugh. “It’s a pretty basic first step.”
“Not for me! I’ve never done anything like that in my life! And she’s four times as big as I am! Why in the world would she let me do that? Doesn’t it bother her having that piece of metal in her mouth?”
Stuart laughs more and catches my chin. Pulling my face up, he plants a firm kiss on my lips, and all my questions disappear.
“It’s her job to carry us around, and she trusts you. Don’t overthink it.” He steps away, returning to the small closet. “Now for the saddle.”
We go through the same routine as with Ranger, only this time, I’m more involved with tossing the stirrup, tightening the girth. I even walk around front and tentatively pat Cheyenne’s knee pit. Just like clockwork, she lifts her leg for me to tug on it.
“You don’t have to do that unless you notice the girth bunching her skin.”
“Still, I did it!” I walk around the giant animal feeling strong and empowered. I put all these leather and metal contraptions on her just so I can sit on her back and drive her around.
Stuart’s right. I’m overthinking it. “What do we do now?”
“Now you get on.” In one fluid move, he grasps the saddle and mounts the horse, holding the reins and steadying it as Ranger steps to the side in the alley. “We’ve saddled up two horses. Let’s go for a ride.”
Looking toward the stall in the back I call up at him. “But what about Jessie?”
“I’d feel better if you had a little more practice with trained horses before you start training one yourself.”
I have to concede he’s right. With a nod, I walk back to Cheyenne’s belly and put my hand on the saddle horn while I use the other to try and situate my foot in the stirrup.
“Hold the reins,” Stuart advises, and I pause, making sure I have the thin strips of leather in my hand before I awkwardly haul myself up onto her back. I’m on my belly at first, but I manage to fling my leg around and wiggle myself to a sitting position.
“Good work.” I’m pretty sure he’s fighting a laugh.
With a wink and a flick of the reins, he heads out of the barn. Cheyenne is right behind him as if she doesn’t even need me to tell her what to do. She probably doesn’t.
Stuart gives us a quick glance before calling, “Let’s ride to the cabin!”
The wind has picked up, and I don’t try to make him hear me. I give him a vigorous nod and urge the horse onward with my legs as we take off, moving through a bumpy trot to a smooth canter.
News
Stuart
Wind sweeps down across the prairie grasses in a line like an invisible ship over sage-green waters. Mariska is right behind me, her long hair flying in the breeze, and every time I glance back, she gives me a huge smile.
We haven’t been to the cabin since Christmas, and I’ve wanted to check on the place. When Bill bought the ranch, I took my sleeping bag and set up shop there the first year we were here, and that settled it. It’s primitive, remote, and barely big enough for one person, and it’s all mine.
My younger brother Patrick is more interested in hanging around the house, talking to our uncle, and getting to know the other ranchers. Our baby sister Amy couldn’t be bothered with such crude accommodations. The jetted tubs, plush robes, and soft mattresses of the main house are more her style.
Last year, I came back here alone, hoping to find peace. I’d been sent home from the desert, discharged after a spinal injury left me unable to complete even the most basic tasks without pain.
I’d done my best to stay in the game with prescription pain killers, but the narcotics brought their own brand of handicap to the mix: addiction. I was the lowest I’ve ever been when Mariska showed up with a potent blend of love and massage therapy and a desire to help me. I finally got my head out of my ass and let her.
Now, charging through the tall grasses, I look back on those golden days, our first memories together. Ranger’s hooves pound the earth in a satisfying rhythm, and after what feels like too short a time, the small grey shack appears at the horizon. I sit straighter, barely moving the reins toward my stomach as my horse eases to a halt.
Mariska rocks forward as she tries to hold onto Cheyenne through the bouncy stop. I do my best to not laugh. Everything she does is adorably amateur, but she’s so earnest. I don’t want her discouraged—or worse, pissed.
“When it’s time to stop, lean back a bit and tighten your stomach muscles. That way you’re in control, and you don’t fly off.”
Her silky hair swirls around her head, and she’s breathing fast. Her eagerness to learn reminds me of our early days when she would follow me around the barn asking questions and watching me work. She was cute then, but I was still resisting her charms. Now she’s beautiful and determined to master this skill.
“Lean back and tighten my stomach,” she repeats as if it’s a mantra.
I watch as she practices the motion. Cheyenne’s chin moves down, and the large horse takes a step back.
“Not too hard,” I say gently. “She knows what to do.”
“I’m sorry, old girl!” She leans forward and pats the horse’s neck as if it’s a large dog.
Her action is instinctual, and I can’t stop a swell of pride in my chest as I watch how fast she learns and bonds with the animals. She doesn’t listen to them as much as I do, but she still picks up their cues. Maybe this life, living here in this hard country, wouldn’t be as unthinkable to her as I imagine? I still haven’t decided.
“Are you taking us to the cabin?” she says.
“Is that okay?”
She pushes a lock of hair behind her ear and looks over her shoulder toward the ranch house. “I really want to go, I just… I have to meet your mom for lunch.”
Maybe I’m jumping to conclusions about her wanting to be here as much as me. “Yeah, we can head back. I’ll check it out while you’re in town.”
Guiding Ranger’s head around, I don’t miss the worried look on her face. “I want to go to the cabin with you, I just…” Her voice goes quiet. “I have to do this with your mom.”
My curiosity is piqued at her odd preoccupation with my mother. “What exactly are you two doing?”
Her chin drops, making me even more suspicious. “I… she said she was going to take me to get a canvass and paint supplies. Remember? I want to paint?”
For a moment, I don’t say anything. I know my mom, and I know my fiancée. Whatever they’re up to, I’m sure it’s something extravagant I won’t like. Still, if they’re planning a surprise of some sort, I won’t spoil their fun.
“Ready to run back?”
“Yes.” Sunset eyes hold mine a moment. They’re so full of warmth and… something else, something new. I can’t figure it out, but something is different.
Moving the reins to the side, I carefully guide Ranger so he’s beside Cheyenne. “Come here.”
“I-I don’t know how.” She shrugs, lifting the reins at her waist.
Cheyenne stands patient, unaffected by our behavior. Our legs brush as Ranger gets closer, and I stop him, looping the leather straps around the saddle horn and reaching for Mariska’s face. Instead of moving her to me, I lean forward to capture her soft lips.
A noise, somewhere between a sigh and a whimper escapes her throat, and I envision taking her to the cabin, building a fire under the moonlight, and wrapping her in an Indian blanket under a sky filled with stars. It’s a sexy memory I’m ready to relive.
“I want us back here to stay. Soon.”
Still holding the reins, she nods. “I don’t know how long we’ll be in town, but I want that, too. I want us to be here when I…” Her lip goes between her teeth as if she’s catching herself.
My eyes narrow, and she can see I’m onto her. Pulling away
quickly, she holds out the reins and turns Cheyenne’s body away from Ranger’s.
“Beat you to the house!” With a flick of her legs, she’s off, stretching out and riding that mare across the plain in a way I haven’t seen since the Chinook.
* * *
Mariska
Sylvia doesn’t drive a truck like Bill and Stuart. She has a steel-grey Cadillac, and we’re on the lonely two-lane road into Great Falls when she starts to get excited.
“I have to hand it to you. You are so much better at keeping a secret than I ever was.” She’s smiling, and her enthusiasm makes my own heart beat a little faster.
“You have no idea how many times I almost told him today.”
A quick glance, and her eyes are back on the road. “As far along as you are, I’m surprised he hasn’t noticed things for himself.”
A flush of embarrassment pinks my cheeks. “I think he has… It’s good we made this appointment today.”
She reaches for my hand and gives me a squeeze. I admire the artistic, chunky ring on her well-manicured hand. Everything about Sylvia is polished, from her smooth, sandy-grey hair to her crisp white blouse and dark jeans. She’s slim and fashionable, and I can’t imagine anything she can’t do. It explains so much the strength of her children.
“Winona said you’re seeing one of the best doctors in the city.”
“Do you think she’ll tell Bill where we went?”
“She barely even speaks half the time.” Sylvia waves a hand before returning it to the steering wheel. “You don’t have to worry about her.”
Looking out the window, I think of Sylvia’s question about us being here, living in this remote wilderness. I think of working with the horses and riding them this morning, I felt like I was in heaven. Thinking back, another little surge of pride hits me over being able to saddle and bridle Cheyenne all by myself.
Broken and Beautiful Page 102
