I ignored him, wondering if I needed to pull Halley off before the road got any busier. Eights’s ears swiveled to take in the conversation, but her neck still looked relaxed. I wished I was on her to better assess whether she was getting antsy. “Time and patience,” I said.
Black rubbed his hands together. “Are we going to get more dating advice in the ropin’ class?”
I hadn’t even thought about my comment sounding like dating advice, and the suggestion sent my mind bolting, especially given that the woman in the saddle knew exactly who I was dating. After taking things slowly, wanting Hope to set a pace that felt comfortable to her, things had suddenly heated up, and I loved the direction they were going. I blinked. That’s how long Black’s comment had distracted me before I registered that Eights’s head was dipping to the ground. “Pull up her head!” I shouted at Halley.
Halley shot a questioning look my way, but she had too loose a hold on the reins to get Eights’s head up before the horse rocketed off the ground. Her eyes as wide open as her mouth, Halley grabbed hold of the horn and stayed with the horse for a quick series of bucks. The mucky condition of the round corral meant Eights had to work harder to get up, but she wasn’t having any trouble catching air at all. She gave a spin and unseated Halley. Later, she might be grateful for the mud when her muscles started to complain about the impact, but as she got to her knees, still stunned, I knew the mud compounded her embarrassment.
I ran to her side to help her up and make sure she hadn’t hurt anything more than her pride in the fall. Eights continued to circle in her bucking spree. Halley moved out of the way into the center of the round corral easily enough, so I went back to the horse, holding my hands out wide to stop her. Her feet finally on the ground, we all stood there panting. “Anything hurt?” I asked Halley.
She shook her head, her face pale.
“We’ve got to get you back on.” For both rider and horse, the best thing after a fall was to follow the old expression and get back in the saddle. She nodded and walked toward Eights, her hand already out and rubbing the mare’s neck as I spoke to her and the class, all silent and wide-eyed. “Halley’s playing this just right. We’ll go back to rubbing her down. Rub the underside of her belly and make sure there’s nothing about the girth that’s bugging her. Remember that she’s looking to us to see how to react. If we play it like it’s no big deal, then it’s not. If Halley acts scared of her, then we validate there’s something to be scared about.”
I walked up to Halley to hold the bridle while she mounted. “We’ll go around the round corral a few times. Keep a tighter hold on the reins. Don’t let her get her head down. After two times around, we’ll call it a day.”
“Got it,” Halley said. Her ability to use words again eased my anxiety. She put her foot in the stirrup and settled her muddy butt in the saddle. Eights fidgeted underneath her, but we both patted her, calming her, telling her she was a good girl.
The rest of the lesson went as I had instructed, and soon enough, the class dispersed, leaving me more rattled than I would have liked to admit. All of my between-class time had gone to advising a warm bath and an anti-inflammatory for Halley, so I had to file my concern about what could have set off Eights. The students had taken the event in stride, congratulating Halley for staying with the horse as long as she had, dubbing her Rodeo, but I felt responsible. It was my horse, my call to put a student, specifically Halley, in a situation that had turned out to be dangerous. I hated to think that being preoccupied had compromised my judgment.
* * *
I stood at my corral back home watching my two horses toss the alfalfa in their feeders, searching out the green leaves with their clever noses. I was running through the months of training I’d done with Eights. Pushing her too far too fast would explain her behavior. If I’d thrown on a saddle and rider too close together, the unfamiliar weight could throw training off, but I’d been so careful.
There’d been no loud noises, nothing I could put my finger on to say yes, that must have spooked her. That, too, would have eased my mind. Instead, I was left having to treat the afternoon as a fluke until she did it again. Unless she did it again, I corrected myself, frustrated to assume just what my hecklers did. Just because they wanted a bucking bronco on campus didn’t mean my little horse had to be the candidate.
“I thought I might find you here,” Hope said, joining me at the corral. She kissed me on the cheek and took up my pose, arms crossed along the top rail, chin resting on arms. “You’re not beating yourself up about today, are you?”
I laid my cheek against my arm to look at her. “Trying not to,” I answered honestly.
“Don’t. Halley’s fine, and she’s having quite a good time recounting the story to every single person who comes in. I’ve heard it a dozen times, and in none of the versions are you responsible for the outcome.”
Eights stomped her foot and swished her tail. She was doing her job. I was doing mine. Instead of worrying about what was coming, I reminded myself to center on the now. I frowned, recalling how lukewarm Gabe had been when I told him about me and Hope. I knew his concern stemmed from his experience getting dumped by Hope. But like my unraveling what had happened with Halley and Eights, basing my actions on what had happened with Gabe and Hope when they had dated didn’t make sense. The variables were all different.
I had to follow my instincts. I didn’t want my students to distrust Eights based on Black’s opinion that she’d make a great bucking horse or on Halley’s experience during class just as I didn’t want Gabe to mistrust Hope.
“What are you thinking about?” Hope asked.
“You,” I said. I didn’t think she’d appreciate being compared to a horse, but my answer was partially true. “I think I might be thinking about you too much. I was thinking about you when your sister got bucked off,” I admitted.
“You somehow think the direction of your thoughts got Halley bucked off?”
I shrugged.
“Because it’s all about you, huh?” She bumped her hip against mine.
I smiled at her teasing. “She’s okay?”
“Of course she’s okay. Everyone knows if you ride horses, you’re bound to get thrown once in a while.”
Gabe’s conclusion, exactly. You put your heart out there, it’s bound to get broken. I put my arm around Hope, and we stood there watching the horses a while longer. Everything felt right from where I stood. As hard as I’d looked, I couldn’t find any trouble. Feeling foolish for looking, I finally let go of my worry about what would come and shifted to enjoying the woman in my arms.
Chapter Thirty-Three
“I don’t get it. I’m stumped.” I settled my seat against the saddle as Gabe dropped back. Obedient as she’d been each day of the weekend, Eights turned to Gabe and stopped. We’d worked her harder than ever to see what might have caused the explosion that had sent Halley sailing into the mud. I dismounted, and Gabe followed us to the barn for her rubdown.
“It’s not her feet,” he said. “Could it be her teeth? Maybe the bit sits one way when you’re in the saddle. Somehow she held the reins in a way that got the bit knocking against a tooth? Could call the vet out.”
“I’m not ready to go that far. She didn’t seem intent on getting Halley off. She kept going long after Halley was on the ground. Maybe the students coming down the road spooked her. Until Black started talking to me, the whole class was quiet. She’s used to me and you talking, but maybe I’ll try pulling the next rider off before the class is over.”
“You’re putting another student on next week?”
“I’ve got to for both them and the horse,” I said pragmatically. Act like nothing was wrong, and it could very well pass over. With humor, I added, “Besides, they all signed releases.”
“You’re sure you don’t want to play it a little more safe seeing as you’re not tenured? Isn’t there a safer bet for your training class?”
“I’ve got a few two-year-olds that the colle
ge bred, and we’re working them too. But I started this. I want them to see that if you stick with something it pays off.”
He stared at me. Leaning against a bale of straw, he slid a stalk out and put it in his mouth.
“What?” I asked, taking a break from the brushing. I knew his pause meant that I should know what he was thinking, but I had no clue.
“The Lodge,” he said.
I threw my arms up, not following at all.
“Let go! Let go!” he mimicked Kristine and ducked quickly when the brush flew toward his head.
I’d aimed to get him and got madder still when my failed attempt just made him laugh. Putting my back to him, I picked a currycomb out of my box. But I couldn’t ignore his comment. Was I being needlessly stubborn, like I had been with Candy? I could have let go of that relationship a lot earlier and saved myself a ton of grief if I hadn’t been so scared to lose the time I’d invested with her. Looking back on it, I could see how everyone could hear Kristine yelling let go except for me, pigheaded me, thinking it’s possible stay on the pony and hold on to the branch too.
Was the same true for the time I’d invested in Eights? I chewed on that for a while but couldn’t ever let go of the message that giving up, letting go, would send to my students. “I know everyone thinks I should give up, but I can’t. The students and I have put so much time into it, I owe it to them.”
“You’re the teacher,” he said.
“Maybe it won’t happen again.”
“Maybe.” He tossed the stalk behind him and left me alone in the barn.
* * *
“What the hell happened?” I barked at Young as he scooped himself up and hopped the fence of the round corral.
“That horse is crazy. I didn’t do anything. One minute she was fine, and the next, she was handing me my ass.”
“C’mon, Young. You’ve been bucked off a horse before. You stay out there and she wins.”
“No. Not me. I’m already stuck explaining this to every single person on campus.” He held up his arms and spun so everyone could appreciate his muddy backside.
The class sat hunched on the bleachers looking everywhere but at me. No one was about to get on my mare after a second student, the most experienced student and the only volunteer had chickened out so vocally.
“I’ve been on broncs before and stayed on. She’s got punch, that one. I agree with Black. Use her as roughstock.”
“You’re not helping,” I said before he could continue steering the class in a direction I would not allow. I wasn’t about to feed the relief that rippled through the other students as they considered the possibility of never having to mount a horse with a growing reputation. Someone was getting on the horse. “That’s an awfully quick judgment,” I argued. “You would really abandon months and months of training because two people came off?”
Their eyes said yes. I wondered if Gabe was parked at the top of the road telling the students that I needed to reconsider the mare’s usefulness in the Intro to Training class. Remembering his words, I set my jaw tight. They would have to see what a well-behaved mare she was.
“Class isn’t dismissed until I’ve got another person in the saddle.” I didn’t know whether I could really do that, but it was all I had. We needed to leave on a positive.
“Why don’t you ride her?” Young said. “You said yourself that she’s fine for you.”
Hands on hips, I waited for another student to speak. No one did. Punks. The next class was due to start soon, so I had to do something. Shaking my head, I turned to Eights. Using the excess rope of the mecate reins, I pushed her to trot around me, searching for any tension in her body, neck or ears. The stirrups flopping at her sides, as usual, didn’t bother her at all. As hard as I looked, I could find nothing amiss. It had to be something my students were doing that I couldn’t assess from the ground.
I approached, rubbing her neck, talking to her about how she needed to stop scaring the students. No one in the bleachers spoke as I took the reins in my left hand, slipped my left foot in the stirrup and swung aboard. I had the attention of every student and noticed that Tim had stepped out of the classroom for a break, increasing my audience. I sucked in a deep breath, running calm through my system.
Four feet on the ground. No problem. Her back felt nice and loose underneath me. Even when I shifted from side to side in the saddle, she stood quietly. This wasn’t crazy. People gave up on things too easily these days. I clucked my tongue to get her to step forward just as I had done on the ground, and she followed the cue from me again, moving into a cautious walk. I kept my arms wide and the hold on the reins a little tighter than I normally would, wanting to have a read on her. So far, she’d made no movement to put her head down. I crossed the round corral to switch directions, did small circles, brought her to a stop by sitting back.
My next class gathered at the edge of the bleachers as I started my lecture. I clucked again to get Eights’s feet moving, wanting to accentuate my words. “The lesson here today, folks, is that your body language is important, as I’ve been stressing for weeks. Everything I’m doing is telling her that she’s safe. Our job now is to figure out what’s going on that she reads something differently when she’s got a less experienced rider…”
Without warning, Eights’s head disappeared, and her back arched underneath me. I never rode broncs in the rodeo, but I’d watched Candy and her competition. I’d trained with her, and I’d been on my fair share of bucking horses. I was ready for her when she came down, jerking her head to the left, pointing her in the direction I wanted her to go. She wasn’t going to get to call the shots, not with me. I did a serpentine pattern, only letting her get a few steps in before I changed her direction again.
I didn’t have time to look at the class, but the entire barn was still silent. No sound had set her off. I tried to understand what Eights was reacting to, what had set her off. As she responded to the cues from the direct rein, I relaxed, feeling like I’d gained control and had a better idea of how to instruct the next student who got on. Once we went around one more time at a relaxed walk, I’d close out the class by talking about strategies to stay in control, to get ahead of the mess.
She gave no warning, not a hint of tension anywhere in her body before she was off again. I jerked on the reins, but she continued to come off the ground, leaping forward before kicking her back feet. I put both hands together on the left rein and pulled with both arms which just got her muzzle on my knee which inexplicably didn’t stop her upward motion. With her neck turned, she went into a spin I tried to break by switching to the right rein.
I never got the chance. She unseated me, and in slow motion I got a good look at my students slack-jawed, not in awe of my mastery of horsemanship but instead at the height I gained as I left the saddle and flew through the air.
Chapter Thirty-Four
“That horse is crazy, I tell you!”
Hope heard her sister’s animated voice at the counter. Curious about whether Halley had once again tried riding the horse that had bucked her off, she stepped out of her office and found Halley facing an audience of regulars.
Halley lifted her chin in greeting and continued. “There’s a reason Professor Blazer calls her Crazy Eights. She bucked off another student today, and he’s the best rider in the class. He practically grew up in the saddle. He said she bucks harder than any other horse he’s ever been on which is kind of a relief to me. Now I don’t feel like she got me off just because I’m new to all of this. But then, you won’t believe this, Blazer tried to ride her and came off, too!”
“She bucked Dani off?” Hope said, her heart leaping to her throat.
Halley nodded, wide-eyed. “She stuck with her a long time, and for a minute we thought she’d worked Eights through it, but then like a flash, she was off again, and there wasn’t anything she could do to get her back under control.” As she told the story, Halley contorted her body, showing how Dani had tried to haul the horse’s head aro
und.
All Hope heard was the fact that Dani had come off the horse. “Did she cancel her last class?”
“Are you kidding? Blazer never cancels a class. And she’s not giving up on her crazy horse. But I don’t think she’ll get any of us on her again.”
As Halley continued talking, Hope slipped into the office, trying Dani’s cell. She glanced at her watch and clicked off the phone. Dani wouldn’t be out of class for another hour. Hope chided herself for worrying. Halley had come off the horse and ended up dirty with a story she enjoyed telling. While Dani’s pride was sure to be bruised, Hope had no reason to think that she was injured in her fall.
An hour later, she tried Dani’s cell again and then gave her a half hour to get home, put the horses up and be near her landline. She didn’t answer that either. She was worried, probably without reason, but she couldn’t put her mind to ease until she heard from Dani. If that meant going to her, so be it. She grabbed her car keys and ducked out.
Since Dani hadn’t answered the phone at the house, she checked the barn first. Both horses were in the corral they shared and had already been fed, so Hope headed past the big house, feeling Mrs. Owens’s eyes on her as she always did when on her way to Dani’s place. On the porch, she rapped on the doorframe, willing Dani to answer quickly. Nothing. Her truck was down at the barn, so she had to be home.
Hope turned, wondering if she had the tenacity to knock at the other house. Would Dani have stopped there? Hope frowned, thinking not. She remembered Halley talking about how stubborn Dani was in training the horse and thought she’d be just as stubborn and proud if she were hurt. She wasn’t a likely candidate to ask for help. Indecision knotted her stomach, but her instinct told her Dani was holed up inside. Tentatively, she tested the handle on the front door. It wasn’t locked. She let the door open just a few inches and called inside. “Dani? Are you home?”
“In the bath. Come on in,” she hollered.
The Right Thing Easy Page 18
