by Jill Barnett
"Give up?"
She skidded to a stop. Without turning around she yelled, "Where's the saddle?"
He didn't answer her, and the silence thickened. She finally turned. He pointed at it, lying on the ground all the way over by the barn. She stomped over to it, madder than she could ever remember being. And it must have helped, because she grabbed each end of the heavy saddle, lifted it and trudged over to the horse and the toad.
Sweat dripping down her temples and her ribs, she closed the distance between them and dumped the saddle at his feet. "There's your dadgum saddle!" She dusted her hands and glared up at him.
"Wiry little thing, aren't you?"
"Let's get on with it."
He held out a striped blanket. "Here, lay the blanket on his withers."
"His what?"
"Withers." He placed his hand on the animal's back, near where the mane stopped.
She tossed the blanket onto the horse. It slid off the opposite side and plopped on the ground.
"Lay the blanket on, don't throw it."
She marched around the backside of the horse and the animal tried to kick her. She screamed and jumped back, losing her balance and landing on the ground in a puff of dust.
"That beast tried to kill me!"
He leaned his elbow on the horse's withers and gave her a look that told her she'd done something really stupid. "Don't walk behind a horse unannounced—''
"Great," she interrupted. "Next time I'll bring my footman."
"Cute, Little Miss Pinky," he said, "but if you don't want that big brain of yours spread all over the farmyard, I suggest you listen.
"Number one," he held up a finger, "let a horse know you're coming by talking to him and putting your hand on him. Horses kick to protect their blind spot. Number two." The second finger popped up. "Keep your voice calm. Screeching at a horse will only get him more excited."
"I don't screech," she declared with her nose up. "Crows screech."
"Crows caw. Don't walk in front of the horse when you lead him. Don't mount near a barn or a fence, unless you want to lose your big brain. And don't," he held up a hand to shut her up, "argue with the teacher."
"I hate you."
"Good, now put the blanket on him."
Addie dusted off her knickerbockers and grabbed the blanket, keeping her head as far away as she possibly could. She circled the front of the horse in a wide, ten-foot radius, then placed the blanket on the horse and waited.
"Now drag the blanket back a few inches," he instructed.
She pulled the blanket back almost exactly three inches.
"More."
"You said a few."
"More," he gritted.
"A few is three. You said a few. How do you expect me to do what you say if you don't say it right?"
"Pull the damn blanket back five inches!"
She ignored his swearing and pulled the blanket back another five inches.
"That's too far."
"You said five inches! I pulled it back five inches!"
He muttered a second, then said, "Push it up two inches."
She jerked the blanket back up the horse. "Well, I do wish you'd say what you mean. First three inches, then five inches, then two inches…"
He mumbled something.
"What?" She turned and planted her hands on her hips. "What was that about giving me ten inches?"
"Forget it!"
"Now… I'm supposed to move it ten inches?" she shrieked.
"I said forget it, and I thought you didn't screech."
"I don't," she said. "That was a shriek." .
"Banshees shriek," Montana corrected.
"Banshees wail."
"Put the damn saddle on the horse!"
"How? I can't lift it that high!"
"Pick it up."
She did, and he picked them both up. "Now put it on the blanket!"
"I can't, these foot things are in the way!"
"Stirrups. Flip them over the seat."
"Now the strap thing with the metal ring is in the way."
"The cinch. Move it and set the damn saddle on the blanket!"
"Stop shouting in my ear." She set the saddle down on the horse. "There, I did it. Now put me down."
"Gladly." He dropped her.
Her boots hit the hard ground and she could have sworn that she heard her bones ring. "Ouch! I bit my tongue!" She glared at him. "You are no gentleman."
"You're right, I'm not." He adjusted the saddle a bit and then ordered, "Cinch the saddle."
Addie bent down and pulled the belt thing through the metal ring.
"Tighter."
"It'll hurt him."
"No it won't. Pull the latigo tighter."
"What's a latigo?"
"The thing in your hand."
"It's all puffy."
"The latigo?"
"No."
"What is?"
"Your horse."
"That's normal. Walk him in a circle."
"Why?"
"Because I told you to!"
"Fine." She grasped the lead and slowly walked the beast in a small circle, remembering what he had said about how to lead the animal safely. She stopped after a few circles and looked at him expectantly.
He was purple again. "Tighten it another notch or two."
She wanted to ask him if he meant one or two, but decided that that would just prolong the argument. She tightened it two.
"Buckle the other one." He pointed to another strap that hung loose behind the fattest part of the horse's stomach.
She grabbed it and pulled it through the buckle just as hard as he'd made her do the cinch.
Addie had never heard a horse scream.
"Jesus Christ!" He shoved her back away from the bucking horse and released the strap, talking to the animal in a deep, calming voice.
Addie bit her lip. She hadn't meant to hurt it. Even though she didn't like it much, she would never intentionally hurt an animal, even a mean horse like this one.
"What the hell did you do that for?" He stared at her as if she'd done it on purpose.
"I'm sorry. I didn't know. I—''
"Forget it. Just don't use your 'common sense' anymore, okay?"
She nodded, feeling bad and staring at the poor, mean beast. Its eyes narrowed when it returned her look. Its eyes weren't kind like the cows', who hadn't glared at her at all, even when she'd forgotten to milk them and when she'd slapped one of them on the rump.
"This is a bridle. Loosen the halter from his nose and leave it around his neck. Understand?"
She shook her head. He heaved a ponderous sigh. "I'll do it then, this one time only. You watch closely."
He slid the halter off the beast's nose and then put on the bridle, telling her what the headstall and the bit and such were and how to watch out so one didn't get bitten. She argued with him until he did it three times, telling him that's the only way she could remember the whole procedure.
"There are two ways to mount," he told her.
"Teach me the easy one."
"They're both easy."
"Well, which one do you use?"
"I twist the stirrup and stand near his shoulder."
"Then teach me the other one."
He looked like he was mentally counting. "Stand even with the saddle and face the horse."
She did as he told her. Her nose was level with the cinch ring.
"Hold the reins in your left hand." He watched her. "Okay, now put your hand firmly on the horse's neck and grab the saddle horn."
"Is that this handle up here?" She pointed to the leather knob that stuck out of the front of the saddle.
"Yes," he said with a smile, "that handle is the horn."
"I wonder why it's called a horn?"
"Grab it."
Addie dropped the reins and grabbed the handle with both hands.
"No," he yelled, exasperation threading his loud voice. "Put the reins in your left hand, place it on the horse's withers
, grab the horn in your right hand, put your foot in the stirrup and mount."
"I'm confused."
He grabbed her hand and plastered it onto the horse's neck, then he took her right hand and closed it around the saddle handle. Holding out the foot thing, he told her, "Put your foot into the stirrup."
Addie put her right boot in it and then kind of hung there, straining to reach the high saddle handle and balance on one foot.
"Damn!" he swore.
"Now what's wrong?"
"Put your left foot in the stirrup, unless you want to sit in the saddle backward."
"Oh." She changed feet.
"Brace your knee against the horse and spring up into the saddle."
She waited a moment, eyeing the tall horse. "You lifted Rebecca."
"She knows how to mount. I just helped. You have to learn this first—'' He stopped talking. After a long pause he asked, "Jealous?"
"Hardly!" Addie sprang upward so fast she almost went over the other side. The horse started shifting backward and the saddle wobbled. She dropped the reins and held onto the handle with both hands, her left foot in the holder thing and her other leg dangling next to it.
"Throw your right leg over the saddle," he ordered.
She did it. "Done. Now stop this thing, will you!"
"You have to learn to control the horse. Where are the reins?"
She leaned over the left side of the horse and looked down, both hands still gripping the handle. "Down there." She slowly released the handle with her left hand and pointed at the reins draped down out of her reach.
"Not much good, are they?" His voice dripped with sarcasm.
"Oops."
He handed them to her. "Now dismount."
"I just got up here!"
"You learned to mount and now you'll learn to dismount. Get down."
"How?"
"The same way you got on."
"Oh." She thought about it for a moment, then she dropped the reins, gripped the handle with both hands, swung her right leg over and fell onto the ground.
"Stop laughing!" She stood and dusted off her derriere.
"How's your little round butt?"
"None of your business! Can I get back on?"
"Be my guest." He bowed slightly.
Addie picked up the reins, put her left hand on the withers, grabbed the horn with her right hand, foot in the stirrup, and she mounted perfectly. "There." She grinned down at him. "Now what?"
"Sit erect."
She threw her small shoulders back and her chin went up.
"Good. Now slide your feet deep into the stirrups, heels down. Good. Hold the reins above the saddle horn… no, like this." He threaded the leather reins over her fingers. His other hand came to rest on her thigh. She gasped, and stared at his hand. Her leg almost burned beneath it. "Now rest your right hand on your thigh, like I did. Now lean forward a bit."
This was easier, like cycle racing. Addie leaned forward like she did when she rode, with her nose practically touching the handlebars. Her nose was an inch from the animal's mane. The horse walked forward. Her nose hit its neck.
"Not that far forward! I said slightly!"
Addie straightened and bounced in the saddle as the horse trotted in a circle around Mr. Creed. "You said 'a bit,' not slightly!"
"What the hell's the difference?" he shouted back. "I didn't tell you to bury your nose in his mane!"
"How do I stop him?" She and the horse bounced along.
"Pull back on the—wait! Gently pull back on the reins." Then she thought she heard him say something about learning his lesson.
The horse stopped and Addie giggled. "I did it!" She turned to him. "That was good, wasn't it?"
"So-so."
Her nose shot up. "I stayed on and I stopped it."
"You might have stayed on, but there was enough daylight showing to blind a bat."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You bounced all over the saddle. It's called seeing daylight, get it?"
"Oh." She was thoughtful for a moment. "Well, how do I stay down? It's the horse that's bouncing, not me."
"Move with it." He grabbed her hips in both hands and slowly moved her back and forth on the saddle. Addie stopped breathing.
His movements slowed and his expression changed. She began to sweat.
Then his voice came out, soft, deep, low. "Ride on your crotch."
"Pardon me?"
"Ride on your crotch," he repeated. "You do know what that is, right?"
She nodded, but kept her eyes and her red face straight ahead. His hand rubbed the inside of her thigh and she jumped. "What are you doing?"
"Checking for space." His hand grazed the inside of her thigh and down her calf.
She didn't breathe. "Why?"
"Your thighs and upper calves should always be in contact with the horse."
"Why?"
"To keep your balance in the saddle." He started to go around to the other side of the horse.
"Don't! The other leg is fine. I understand." If he touched her like that again, she'd just die.
"Okay then, ride." He slapped the horse on its backside and it took off.
Addie bounced and bobbed in the saddle, managing to hold the reins and her double-handed death grip on the handle. The more the animal bounced, the more she wished she had her corset. This was worse than riding her cycle over the trolley tracks.
"Kick him into a lope," he shouted.
Addie bounced along. "H-H-Howww?"
"With your heels!"
She shut her eyes—she was getting dizzy from all the bouncing—and jabbed her heels into the horse. He stopped, but Addie bounced some more.
Mr. Creed ran over. "Why'd you stop? I told you to kick him."
"I did."
"Then why'd he stop?"
"Don't ask me. It's your horse." Even has your personality, she thought as she watched the animal lower its head and eat some more grass.
Tipping his hat back, he looked at Addie as if she were lying.
"I did kick it! Just like this!" She kicked the horse.
Its head flew up, its ears went back, and off it took at a full gallop. Addie hung on for dear life, trying to remember everything he'd told her. The horse was fast, and no matter how hard she tried to press down, she still flew all over the seat of the saddle. She kept kicking it but it still wouldn't stop. She gripped the handle with both hands. God only knew where the reins were! She kicked it again. She could hear the toad yelling but she couldn't understand a word he said.
Gravel splattered and crunched. The horse picked up more speed—until it neared the road. Suddenly its front legs skidded out. It ducked its head and stopped dead.
Addie didn't. Over she flew, head first. She hit the ground and sprawled on her face. Her mouth was filled with the dry, metally taste of gravel and her elbows rang from the jarring. A curtain of black hair blocked out the light. She shook her hair over her shoulder and looked down the drive. Mr. Creed ran toward her. She spit out the gravel and pushed up on her hands.
"Are you okay, boy?"
Addie sat up on her sore behind and watched, stunned, as the toad examined his ornery horse, cooing and rubbing it like a worried mother. She stared at her hands. Her palm had gravel stuck to it, and when she glanced at her leg, she saw the long scrapes that marred her boots. Her castor-colored stockings with the diamond inserts were torn in three places, and one black stocking supporter dangled from the side of her knickerbockers. The white linen shirt she'd ironed so precisely was filthy. Her arms ached, her derriere felt battered, and, oh my God, a cuff link was missing!
She examined the gravel for the little silver bicycle bell. When she couldn't find it she panicked and scurried on her hands and knees, digging through the gravel in search of her precious cuff link. She sifted the gravel through her fingers, hoping to find it.
"Dadgum, ornery, obnoxious beast!" she muttered, canvassing the area where she'd landed.
A pair of din
gy, gray-brown boots crunched in front of her. "You okay?"
Addie grabbed two handfuls of gravel and dust. She didn't look up. "Just ducky! Move your foot!"
"What are you doing?"
"Looking for my silver cuff link."
"Oh." He was quiet for a moment. "Is that it?"
She tossed her long hair out of her face and looked up. He pointed to a silver sparkle sitting in the gravel just a few feet away.
"That's it!" Addie crawled to it. She just reached out for it and the horse moved its snout. "Oh noooo!" she shouted, and the animal's fat, pink lips closed over it.
She stood and grabbed the bridle. "Don't you dare!" She shook the metal part of the bridle, trying to get the horse to spit out the cuff link.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"He ate my bicycle bell!" She jerked on the bridle. "Spit it out, you beast!"
"Here, I'll get it." He grabbed the bridle and spoke quietly to the horse, stroking its long nose. Then he placed his palm under its mouth and it obediently spit out her cuff link. He handed it to her, still stroking the mean horse. "Good boy."
She pinched her cuff together and slid the link into the hole, straightening the bar pin. She tugged on her cuffs and breathed a sigh of relief, then she groaned. Every muscle in her body ached. She wiggled her stiff shoulders and then rubbed her sore fanny.
"What me to kiss it and make it better?"
"Go kiss your horse!"
"That was a stupid thing to do."
"Pardon me?"
"It was stupid. You could have hurt Jericho."
She gasped in outrage.
"You could have been hurt too," he conceded, "kicking him into a full gallop like that."
"You told me to kick him!" She glared up at him.
"I just meant kick enough to get him moving a bit."
"That's not what you said. You said 'kick him into a lope.' ''
"But I didn't tell you to keep kicking him."
"I thought he'd stop." She looked down at the cufflink, examining it for teeth nicks.
"I know horses, Miss Pinky, and they don't stop when you kick them."
"Yours did!"
He looked at her like she was fibbing.
"This is all your fault," she informed him, pulling her cuff into place.
"You wanted the lessons."
"That animal hates me, and you can't communicate! You say one thing and I do it and then you say I did it wrong and I just did exactly what you said!"