by A. D. Ryan
Normally, this would be a lot more work, but with Jensen on board and Jillian coming out earlier several days a week, it only took us a couple hours to clean out both barns and prep them. Since the big chores were done, Jensen suggested am afternoon trail ride. I was now within a few days of entering my second trimester, and according to the doctor, that would be the end of my riding days until after the baby was born. I struggled with the idea, but after reading up on it, I realized it really was for the best. Besides, I didn’t have to stop working with horses. I could start to break in some of the younger horses and work with them in the round pen.
After placing the last two buckets in their stalls, I heard a loud huff of exasperation. Turning around, I found Jillian exiting the arena, looking extremely frustrated. “You okay?”
Jillian huffed, exasperated. “Mrs. Wilson refuses to listen to me.
While I liked to think I knew all of our clients pretty well, I struggled for a minute to remember Mrs. Wilson. “Sadie’s owner?”
Jillian nodded. “Look, I know you’re busy, but maybe she’ll listen to you. I mean, you did train Sadie. You know her better than anyone. Mrs. Wilson refuses to listen to Sadie’s cues.”
I turned off the hose and placed the full bucket in its stall before following Jillian into the arena. “Ah, Mrs. Wilson. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you. How’s Mallory doing now that school’s back in?” I greeted cheerfully as I entered the arena with Jill behind me.
“Fine.” Her tone was clipped as she stared between Jillian and me. She was stressed, and Sadie was picking upon it. “I told Miss Walker that calling you in here wasn’t necessary. Sadie’s just tired,” she tried to tell me, but one look at the gray Arabian mare told me quite the opposite; her eyes were wide, nostrils flared and the muscles in her shoulders were tense. She wasn’t afraid or tired—she was frustrated.
“It’s really no trouble. Let’s just see what seems to be the trouble before we cool Sadie down, okay?” I turned to Jillian. “What were you working on?”
“Pirouettes,” was Jill’s short reply, shooting a quick glance at the woman atop the flighty horse.
Smiling, I looked back to Mrs. Wilson. “Excellent! One of my personal favorites. Go ahead and move to the center of the ring and show me, please,” I instructed kindly.
It wasn’t missed when Mrs. Wilson rolled her eyes as she complied with my request. It also wasn’t overlooked just how hard she “nudged” her sweet little mare as she did so. “Take it easy on her, Mrs. Wilson. A simple click of the tongue and pushing with your seat would have been sufficient.”
“So you think,” I heard her mutter. Her attitude was unreal.
I turned to Jillian, who shrugged and shook her head in frustration. “Actually,” I countered quickly, “having been the one who trained her, I don’t think that’s all she needs, I know it for a fact.” I immediately regretted putting Sadie up for sale last year and allowing Dad to sell her to this woman.
Sadie’s shrill whinny alarmed me as I watched Mrs. Wilson yank on her left rein and tug her around. Both of her legs clamped down around Sadie’s middle, probably confusing the poor horse to no end because she wasn’t sure which leg to bend into as she turned in a tight circle incorrectly. This woman was clueless.
“What is it you’re trying to do, exactly?” It was hard to contain the rage I felt toward her. “How is she supposed to follow your lead when you don’t even know what leg to lead her with?
“I’m leading her with my reins,” Mrs. Wilson snapped at me, pulling back hard on Sadie’s reins until the horse threw her head up in protest. “Stop it!”
I took a deep breath and suddenly found myself wondering just how far into my savings account I could dip to buy this horse back before I kicked this woman’s ass up and down the arena. “You don’t lead with your reins. Yes, they’re there as an aide—to a degree—but a majority of the leading comes from the leg. How do you expect her to listen to you when you’re kicking her from both sides and tugging at her mouth like that?”
“It’s the only way she responds,” she tried to argue again, to which I heard Jillian scoff behind me. “What? It is.”
“Okay, I understand how you might think that to be true.” I didn’t, really. “However, could you just try to ease up on the reins and guide her with your legs instead?”
“Fine!”
Jaw clenched and arms crossed, I watched again as Mrs. Wilson attempted a pirouette in the opposite direction—only further confusing the horse because she wasn’t allowing Sadie to learn one direction first. Knowing this was a huge problem for the mare, I gently suggested Mrs. Wilson try to conquer one direction first—only to receive more attitude in return. I was about ready to slap a bitch.
I grew hopeful when Sadie started to bend only a little more than she should be—due to the reins being used out of habit—but everything headed south just as quickly, ending with Mrs. Wilson and Sadie both getting more irritated with one another.
There was no holding my temper back anymore. “Stop kicking and pulling on her!”
“It’s. The. Only. Way. She. Responds!” Mrs. Wilson told me, being extra sure to punctuate each and every word. She was talking to me as though I didn’t understand her—which I didn’t, really.
“Bull.” I walked briskly to the center of the ring and looked up at the woman on the horse. “Go again.”
Glaring down at me defiantly, Mrs. Wilson finally submitted to my command, failing in her attempt even quicker than before. Again, because she was doing the same damn thing. “That,” I told her pointing to Sadie’s flared nostrils and her wide-open eyes, “is not Sadie responding to your commands. She’s confused and needs you to work with her, not push her around. It’s about camaraderie. You need to listen to her just as much as she needs to listen to you.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Get down,” I ordered, finally reaching my limit with this psycho.
She looked down at me, her eyebrows pulling together in an expression that told me she thought she was better than me. “I will not. This is my horse.”
“And if you want to keep it that way, you’ll get down and let me show you how to ride her.” Even though I was severely pissed off, I heard Kyle in my head, laughing at what I just said. That dirty bastard had ruined me.
With an exasperated sigh, she dismounted and handed me the reins. I mounted with ease, settling into the luxurious saddle. At least the old bat buys top quality tack, I thought to myself as I lightly gathered the reins and nudged Sadie forward with my seat. I could feel how tense the poor girl was, so I took her around the arena once at a trot, then a slow canter before moving us to the center again. Even just those few minutes relaxed her exponentially.
“Now,” I said, keeping my hands on the reins, but not pulling on them in any one direction. “You want to make sure you’re adding pressure with the correct leg and be sure to position more of your weight to the inside seat bone. We’ll try turning to the right first.” I held a solid line with the left rein to control the bend in Sadie’s neck as I shifted my weight to the right and used my right leg to coax her to turn into the pressure. Slowly, her front feet began to move to the right while her back legs stayed mostly still, acting as the pivot point they were meant to. After performing a half-pirouette (a huge accomplishment since Mrs. Wilson couldn’t even get two strides out of her) I patted Sadie’s white neck and praised her.
“You used your reins,” Mrs. Wilson pointed out childishly. “I saw.”
“I also accomplished it,” I retorted, seriously wondering just how far up her ass my foot would go with her head already lodged up there.
She crossed her arms and raised both of her eyebrows at me in challenge. “Whatever. You said you didn’t need the reins and that you were to lead with your legs. How am I supposed to learn if you can’t even follow your own instructions?”
“Fine,” I ground out through clenched teeth. I dismounted and started to unbuckle the reins that were
attached to the D-bit of Sadie’s bridle—because heaven forbid they be accessible so she could tell me she saw me use them again. As I was unbuckling the last side, I suddenly had a brilliant idea that would show Mrs. Wilson that it was all about communication between horse and rider and not just the horse listening to the rider.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Mrs. Wilson asked as I flung the reins over the saddle and lifted the flap to release the girth.
“I’m removing the saddle.” Sure, it was probably showing off, but I knew Sadie could do this without all the fancy riding equipment, and I would prove it to Mrs. Wilson too. “Here,” I said, holding the saddle out to its owner. “Hold this and pay attention.”
I stood next to Sadie’s left side, facing her rear before running my left hand along her neck and swinging my right leg, using the forward momentum to mount her with ease. Who needed stirrups or a leg up? Certainly not me.
Knowing I should test Sadie out a little to be sure she still understood her vocal commands, I took her around the arena a few times, once at each gait and practicing our halts in each corner; I was pleased to see that her basic training was still intact.
We returned to the center of the ring, and I took a breath before leaning forward and running my hands up and down her neck. I needed to make sure she wasn’t still tense, and that she was ready to work together on this movement. When she exhaled a gentle huff through her nostrils, I sat back up and stroked the left side of her withers, keeping a constant connection between us as I squeezed gently with my right leg.
Exhilaration and elation swelled in me, and I had to fight back a triumphant “I told you so!” as Sadie completed a whole pirouette at the walk. Feeling kind of cocky, I decided to try the other direction (also perfect) before stopping and looking at a bewildered Mrs. Wilson.
“As I said,” I spoke calmly, knowing that Mrs. Wilson was eating enough crow without me rubbing her nose in it too, “it’s not about how well you think you can ride; none of that matters if you don’t listen to your horse. Let her tell you when something isn’t right. Now, I’d be willing to work with you a bit more today, but I need you to at least make the effort with Sadie.”
Slowly, Mrs. Wilson nodded, her face turning a deep shade of crimson. “Yeah, that would be great. I’m sorry I was being difficult before.”
I dismounted, offering her a smile as I took the saddle and reins from her and put them back on Sadie. “That’s all right. You were frustrated. We’re all entitled to a bad day every now and again. Come on, mount up, and we’ll work this out. You’ll be a pro by the end of your lesson.”
As soon as Mrs. Wilson was on Sadie, she moved the horse out of the way, and I was pleased to see Jensen, Dad, and Tom sitting in the viewing gallery with coffee and wide smiles. I gave them a quick wave before focusing back on the lesson.
It didn’t take long before Mrs. Wilson finally mastered the move and we decided to call it a day, knowing that Sadie had done more than enough. I was pleasantly surprised when Mrs. Wilson thanked me profusely for not getting too frustrated and really showing her that what she was doing was wrong.
“It was nothing. I actually want to apologize for being a little on-edge and showing off when I removed Sadie’s saddle. It was unprofessional, and I shouldn’t have—”
“No. I’m glad you did. It really showed me what Sadie is capable of,” she assured me before noticing the time. “Oh, shoot. I should get going.” She looked over my shoulder. “I’ll see you on Saturday for Mallory’s lesson, Jillian?”
“Definitely. Have a good week, and tell Mallory I said hello and to get ready for some low cross rails. She should be excited to hear that,” Jillian said, clearly not upset by their earlier altercation anymore. It pleased me that Jillian was able to let what happened roll off her back; it only proved we had made the right decision when we hired her a few years ago.
“Thanks again for your help, Madison. That woman is so hard-headed at times,” Jillian said after Mrs. Wilson left.
Laughing, I shook my head. “No worries, Jill. Let me know if you need anything else today.”
After leaving Jillian with her next lesson, I found the guys still in the viewing gallery, taking a longer break than I had ever known them to take. Jensen sprung from his seat and crossed the room to greet me.
“Hey,” he said, placing an innocent kiss on my cheek before pulling me over to where Dad and Tom were. “You were amazing.”
“Thanks. I didn’t plan for any of that to happen. She was just being so damn difficult, and I had to show her what that horse is capable of.”
After taking my word for it, Jensen excused himself to go and do his rounds while Tom and I talked about bumping Starla’s training session to before lunch because Tom was taking off for the afternoon and wouldn’t have time.
Starla did amazing, which wasn’t unusual, and Tom said that if I felt she was ready, I could sell her any time. It was the worst part of working with a horse so closely day after day, because a bond formed between horse and rider. No matter how many times I trained a horse and sold it, it never got any easier. However, it was how we made a big chunk of our money and there were more foals to be born in the spring—not to mention the auction that Dad and I frequented every year. All things considered, it was probably best to lighten my workload and find Starla an owner that could devote more time to her.
After turning Starla back out into her paddock, I walked over to my dad’s to find him already there with Bones. He was seated at the table and Bones was sitting next to him with his snout rested against my dad’s thigh.
“Hey, Dad.”
He looked up at me as I headed to the fridge to scout out lunch possibilities. “How was your ride, kiddo?”
“Really good. Tom said that Starla’s probably ready to sell, so I guess we can start talking her up to the riders and advertising her through Henry,” I said, grabbing some pita bread and cheese and texting Jensen to grab a few things from our place before joining us.
“Jensen says the two of you are going on a trail ride this afternoon?” my dad inquired as I set my phone down on the counter.
Nodding, I moved to the table until Jensen arrived with the rest of our lunch ingredients. “Yeah. We have nothing really lined up work-wise and it’s supposed to be nice out. Plus I’ve only got a couple more days left before my second trimester, and the doctor said I shouldn’t ride once that hits.”
Dad laughs lightly. “You going to survive the next six months without being on a horse?”
I glance up at him and purse my lips. “It’ll be hard, but I told Jensen I’d listen to the doctor.”
“Good,” he replies with a curt nod. “Jensen’s taking Ransom, then?”
“Mmm hmm. And I’ll take Hails.”
“That’s good, Jensen seems to really understand Ransom. You did really well with him, don’t get me wrong, but Jensen and Ransom seem, I don’t know, almost kindred,” he said, grabbing his coffee mug from the table and taking a sip.
I thought about that for a minute and realized he was right. I knew Jensen rode as well as he did because of his past experience, but there was definitely a connection between the two of them that I couldn’t even touch.
“Dad?” He looked at me, pulling his eyebrows together inquisitively. “How would you feel if I gave Ransom to Jensen? He doesn’t have a horse of his own, and he and Ransom do seem to get along great—better than Ransom and I ever did.”
“He’s your horse, Mads, and you can do whatever you feel is best for him. Keep in mind, though, that you got him in hopes of showing him when he was ready and eventually breeding him,” he reminded me gently.
Shrugging, I looked down at Bones and pet the top of his head when he came over to me. “I know, and I’m sure I probably still could, but I can’t exactly ride Ransom pregnant. He’s just too risky. Plus, Jensen’s done so much for the ranch.”
Before I could say anything else, the front door opened, and Jensen walked through it. Not wanting h
im to know until I told him what my intentions were, Dad and I stopped talking as I took the food from Jensen so I could start lunch. The whole time I cooked, I thought back to every interaction between Jensen and Ransom, and it was all I needed to finalize my decision.
I was going to tell Jensen on our trail ride that I wanted him to have Ransom, and I couldn’t wait for his reaction.
Chapter 13. Backed Into a Corner
“You ready, love?” Jensen asked, leading a fully-tacked Ransom toward me as I slid the bit into Halley’s mouth with ease.
We mounted up as soon as we were outside and then hit the trails side-by-side. There wasn’t a set destination; we just wanted one last relaxing ride through the countryside before I entered my second trimester. The winter chill cut through my jacket, but I shook it off, knowing I’d warm up a few minutes into our ride.
“So, you and Wayne seemed quick to clam up when I got to the house for lunch,” Jensen said, pulling my attention back to him.
“Oh.” I giggled lightly. “We were actually talking about Ransom …” Jensen turned to look at me, an eyebrow raised as though he didn’t quite believe me. “And how I want you to have him.”
It took me a few strides to realize that Jensen had halted Ransom. Turning back to him, I noticed his eyes were wide with disbelief. “Jensen?”
“You want to give Ransom to me?”
I nodded once, smiling warmly at him. “For your birthday.”
Jensen laughed. “My birthday isn’t until May. That’s still over five months away.”
Rolling my eyes, I fired back, “Fine. Christmas. That’s only ten days away.”
Jensen seemed stunned for a minute before stammering. “Madison, that’s … he’s … No, I can’t accept. You’ve worked so hard training him, and from what Tom’s told me, you had high hopes of showing him.”
“I did,” I told him honestly. “And I’d still love to, but I can’t deny that the two of you clicked from the beginning. That first day—when you caught him without any trouble? I’ve never caught him that easily.”