Breaking the Reins

by Juliana Haygert

  I sat up. What was this business exactly? I was sure it was something to do with his family’s farm, though he never talked about it, and I wasn’t sure why since I had my nose in horse farms since I was born.

  “I understand.”

  He smiled. “Great. Now, get ready for a delicious breakfast.” He popped open the tray’s legs and placed it over me.

  It looked nice and smelled good. Toast, scrambled eggs, cheese, and a big mug of coffee. Coffee?

  I stared him. “You made coffee?”

  “I knew you wanted it.”

  “But that implies touching my coffee maker and my mugs, and you always say you can’t touch them because they disgust you.”

  He chuckled. “Of course you would remember stuff like that, wouldn’t you? Yes, I say that, but it’s mostly because I want to tease you. Though I do hate coffee.” He glanced at my mug and made a bleh face.

  I smiled and reached for his hand. “This is sweet. Thank you.”

  He held my hand up to his lips and kissed my palm. “You’re welcome.”

  Then he was up and running and taking a shower and getting dressed while I ate my breakfast in bed.

  Once he was ready, he knelt onto the bed and leaned over the tray. “This meeting is going to take a long time.” He made a bored face and I smiled. “But I should be back by five, maybe 6 p.m., and I’ll take you out for dinner in Santa Barbara. What do you think?”

  I liked going into town, especially if we could get into a waterfront restaurant. “I would like that.”

  “It’s settled, then.” Eric closed the distance between us and placed a quick peck on my lips. “I’ll see you later.”

  “Have a good meeting.”

  He scooted away from my bed. “Thanks. Bye.”

  “Bye.”

  He walked out of the bedroom, and it took me a second to stop fighting the thought pushing against all others since Eric announced he would spend the day away.

  I grabbed my phone from the nightstand, and waited until I heard the wheels of Eric’s car crunching gravel as he left the property to send Leo a message.

  We have until 4 p.m. to work on Argus.

  A full minute went by without any answer, and I started panicking he was ignoring me on purpose. Then I quickly added.

  If you can, of course. If you have other plans, please don’t change them. I totally understand.

  Did I sound like a lame teenager or what? Crap.

  Once more, the minutes went by and no answer. I could stay in bed all morning, staring at my phone, willing it to beep with a new message, or I could get up and do something with my day.

  Feeling like an idiot, I pushed the tray to the side, and hopped out of bed and into the shower. After, I put on white jean shorts, a sleeveless checkered shirt, and my red boots.

  I headed down and out to the stable. Jimmy was taking Chip to the arena to exercise when I entered.

  “Morning,” he said.

  “Morning.” I took a set of bridle and reins from the shelf. I opened Belle’s stall, put the bridle on her, and pulled her out to the arena with Chip. “What time is Paul’s first class?” I asked. It was hard keeping track of the summer schedule. No two weeks were the same.

  Jimmy took the bridle off Chip and patted his side. The horse trotted away. “One class at three.”

  “And riding groups?”

  “One at noon, and another one at four thirty.”

  I pulled the bridle off Belle. “Calm day.” Compared to the others, this day would be easy.

  “It seems like that.”

  We worked around the stable in silence. We let Chip and Belle run around and around for over thirty minutes, then switched them with Back Jack and Duchess. We cleaned a couple of stalls. Jimmy brushed them while I checked their shoes—and fixed them when necessary.

  All the while, I ignored the itching to reach out to my phone and check my messages. I would hear the phone shimming if Leo sent one.

  It was almost ten when Jimmy brought Black Jack and Duchess in. He was about to take two more, but I told him to hold it. I couldn’t delay anymore, otherwise the day would be gone in a flash, and I would be mad at myself later for not doing anything.

  “I’ll try to take Argus to the round pen first, then you can use the arena for two other horses.”

  He frowned. “Are you sure?”

  I took another set of bridle and reins from the pins on the wall. “I am.”

  “Miss Taylor, I don’t thi—”

  “I have to do this, Jimmy.” I halted in front of Argus’s stall. The horse was on his feet, but in his usual corner, his left side facing me. “He’s not progressing fast enough, and if I don’t do this, Officer Michael will take him from us and put him down. I don’t want him to be put down.”

  Jimmy didn’t say anything else, but he didn’t leave either. He stood at the end of main hallway, by the back gate, watching.

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I wasn’t sure of what to do or how to do it, but I had to try something. Perhaps the best way for me would be to try to reach Argus and go from there. One step at a time. Much better than none at all.

  “Hey, boy,” I said, opening my eyes. “Do you want to go for a walk? You need to stretch those muscles, you know.” Argus turned his head to me for a second, and then went back to staring at the ground.

  Under the wounds and scars, his coat was so incredibly white, and his whitish mane was growing, proving to me he was truly beautiful. It was a shame that he was too thin and that his pretty, big brown eyes held this perpetual sad and terrified shine. I sort of understood why he was so jumpy and reared every time we got too close. He needed that to defend himself where he came from, to survive. Even though, it didn’t seem to have worked many times, otherwise he wouldn’t have so many scars. To think this animal had to defend himself hurt. Why would a horse have to defend himself? They were supposed to be our friends.

  Hercules had been my friend. Paul and grandma had trained him, but it was easy to train a horse that was born on a caring ranch, where he was treated right and lived with other horses that were already used to the daily activities. The jumping part though, Hercules and I learned together. We were a great duo, and I missed it desperately.

  I shook my head, trying to bring myself to the present.

  Argus was the focus now. I wasn’t sure I could make a friend out of him—if Leo could—but I sure would try. Hopefully, someday, he would be a good friend to someone.

  “You must be tired of being in here for so long, aren’t you?” I reached for the door. His eyes were intent on me. “If you promise to be a good boy, we can arrange for you to do more. Run in the arena a little. I bet you would like that.” He gave two steps toward me. I smiled. “I know you’ll like that.”

  He took a couple more steps in my direction. Until the sound of hooves stomping on the front path echoed through the stable, and he retreated again.

  “What the …?”

  A magnificent black horse entered the stable, with an equally magnificent rider.

  Leo.

  For the love of all holy things in this life, he was dressed in some sort of strange cowboy attire, but holy crap, he looked fantastic. He wore baggy white pants, a red and black sash, a black shirt, black boots, a black hat, and spurs.

  His eyes found mine and he smiled.

  My heart skipped a few beats.

  He jumped off the horse and took the reins in his hand.

  “He’s stunning,” I said, shifting my focus to the horse. His gleaming black coat reminded me of Hercules. “What’s his name?”

  “Minuano.”

  I frowned at Leo. “That’s an odd name.”

  “Minuano is the name of a cold wind that blows across the south of Brazil. It even makes a howling sound sometimes.”

  My frown grew deeper. “You’re kidding.”

  He raised his free hand as if in a promise. “I’m not.”

  “How old is he?”

  “Four ye
ars, eight months.” He walked past me, pulling the horse behind him. “His father is one of my father’s prized horses.”

  “You brought a horse from Brazil?”

  “We brought several horses from Brazil. Unfortunately, we didn’t bring our dogs. But we brought a lot of things from Brazil.”

  That answer sparked another question. “When did you learn English? I mean, I don’t think that’s something every Brazilian knows.”

  “No, not every Brazilian knows. During school, we’re required to take a second language class. Usually it’s Spanish or English. But lots of teenagers also take private English classes, because wanted or not, with globalization, English is becoming almost a requirement.”

  “You took private English classes, then?”

  “Yes. Everyone in my family did. Since my father had an international career and knew how important it was, he wanted us to learn. And when it became clear we would have careers of our own, the classes become more frequent and harder.”

  “Oh.” My eyes wandered down to his odd pants.

  He noticed it and smiled. “These are called bombacha. It’s our cowboy pants, if you will.”

  “It looks … strange.”

  “For you. In the south of Brazil, it’s very common.” He glanced at me over his shoulder. “Do you mind if I put Minuano in an empty stall?”

  “Not at all.”

  I looked around, trying to remember what I was doing before Leo came in like a hurricane and messed up my thoughts.

  Oh, Argus. Yeah.

  I turned to his stall and noticed Jimmy wasn’t where I had last seen him. I ran my eyes around the place, and he was gone. I felt my cheeks becoming hot at the thought that Jimmy probably left me alone with Leo on purpose.

  “Why are you blushing?” Leo asked, standing right by my side.

  “Nothing,” I muttered.

  He stepped in front of me and reached to my face. I froze. He brushed my hair back and placed a Douglas Iris over my right ear.

  I looked into his eyes and held his intense stare. I couldn’t distinguish what I saw in his eyes, but I knew it was something I should be away from.

  The heat on my cheeks increased, and I stepped back. “What’s that for?”

  He shrugged. “Sorry I didn’t reply to your message. My father was grilling me, and by the time I got free from him, I rushed here.”

  “You didn’t need to come.”

  “I want to,” he whispered.

  His gaze shifted for half a second only, but it was enough for me to see it went to my mouth and back to my eyes. I held my breath.

  I walked around him and stood before Argus’s stall. The horse was still on his feet, and he observed us and every little move we made.

  “I was about to take him out.”

  “By yourself?” Leo’s voice came from directly behind me.

  “You say that as if I couldn’t.”

  He stood by my side. “I say that as someone who would prefer you to be careful with Argus.”

  The things he said … I shook my head. “So, any ideas on how to take him to the round pen? Hopefully, in an easier way than yesterday.”

  “Dangle a carrot in front of his head and hope he follows it.”

  I nudged his elbow with mine, and he laughed. Oh, the things he said … “I’m serious.”

  “I know.” He seemed to focus for a moment. “Remember how he followed me after I lassoed him yesterday? Maybe I should do the same thing now. Just lasso him from here and lead him to the round pen like that.”

  “Try it.”

  He looked around. “Where’s the rope?”

  I dashed into the tack room, grabbed the rope, and brought it to Leo. “Here.”

  “Obrigado.” He took it from me and did his thing on it, tying the ends and whatnots. Once he was done, he picked up a pair of gloves from the shelf behind him and put them on. “All right, here were go.”

  I stood back, trying to relax my corded muscles. Why was I so wound up? We would take the horse out, one way or another, and then train him, work with him. Nothing to it.

  After taking a deep breath, Leo flung the rope and Argus didn’t even flinch. He let Leo catch him.

  Carefully, Leo opened the stall door and tugged the rope. “Come on, boy.”

  Argus turned his head to Leo. They stood there for a long moment, staring at each other. I could see Leo was speaking to Argus with his eyes, and I wondered how he did it. Not that I thought he was magical and could actually speak to the horse, but there was something about him, something that made horses get him, something that made me get him.

  My mouth fell open when Argus went with him. With a step every minute, but he did go with Leo.

  Leo shot me a big smile, and I couldn’t help but smile back.

  Chapter Eleven

  We crossed the arena, and every step of the way, I expected something to happen. Like, Argus rearing and galloping away, or advancing on Leo, or simply stopping and not moving at all. But nothing happened and I was completely dumbfounded.

  Holding the bridle and whip Leo had asked me to bring, I rushed around them─not too fast though, so I wouldn’t disturb Argus’s collaborative attitude─?and opened the gate to the round pen. Besides the high, open roof and the pillars holding it, the round pen looked like the arena, but on a smaller scale and proportionally round. It was the ideal place to train difficult horses, or mistreated ones.

  Leo took him inside, and I stepped in with them and closed the gate. I rested my back against the gate while Leo approached Argus with controlled and slow movements.

  “I’m just going to take the lasso, okay?” Leo said, his voice calm and reassuring. He reached for the knot on the rope and Argus winced. “It’s okay,” Leo whispered. He loosened the knot and pulled the rope up and out from around Argus’s neck. The second he was free, Argus trotted away. “Whoa.”

  Leo stepped to the side as Argus advanced toward him. The horse flew past him and began trotting from side to side.

  “He’s distraught again,” I said as Leo halted by my side.

  “Yes. We gotta control him now before he gets worse and we can’t do anything else with him.” He took the whip from my hand. “I’m gonna show you what I think is going to work, but you gotta do it, okay?”

  “Why me?”

  “He’s your horse. You should be the one training him.”

  “He’s not my horse,” I said too quickly.

  Leo frowned. “At the moment, he is your horse.”

  I felt like a shovel had hit me in the head. What? No, no. Argus wasn’t my horse. He was … nobody’s horse? I didn’t know. What I did know though was that I was helping Officer Michael with this case while he searched for a new home for Argus. At least, that’s what I thought I knew.

  Could I be wrong?

  Leo walked toward Argus, his arms opened to his sides, the whip in his right hand. Argus didn’t stop pacing and stomping, but he watched Leo.

  “It’s okay, boy,” Leo said. “I’m not gonna hurt you.” Leo extended the whip toward Argus. “This won’t hurt you.”

  Distrusting, Argus snorted and dashed farther away from Leo. With a calm stance, Leo simply turned and followed him. They played the cat and mouse game for several minutes.

  During one turn, Argus trotted my way, and I didn’t know what came over me but I didn’t move. The horse snorted and whirled around, ending up face-to-face with Leo, who had trailed him there.

  Leo didn’t waste time. “This won’t hurt you,” he repeated his earlier statement, and extended the whip toward Argus. He brushed the tip of the whip over Argus’s back. The horse flinched, and I jumped back, afraid he would do more. “See.” Leo brought the whip to his neck. “It doesn’t hurt if used properly.”

  Argus snorted again as if telling Leo that he wasn’t quite sure yet.

  Leo gestured to the bridle in my hand. I rushed to his side and helped him put the bridle on Argus. The horse complained but didn’t fight it. Then Leo tied
the rope to the end of the reins.

  “Now, stand back please, and I’ll show you what to do,” he said. I took several steps back and observed, probably as wary as Argus was.

  “Buck Brannaman once said,” Leo started. He held the rope in his right hand, and the whip in his left. “Everything you do with a horse is a dance.” Keeping his arms spread out, he tugged on the rope. “We’re about to go dancing.”

  Argus gave one short step toward the tug. Leo jerked the rope again, and Argus took one more step toward it. When Argus took too long to keep up with the yank, Leo used the whip. He didn’t hit the horse. No. He brushed its tip against his hind legs, making the horse wince with the contact and move.

  For the next few minutes, Argus followed Leo’s pulls as if they were dancing. To the right. To the right. To the left. To the right. To the right. To the left. The pulls weren’t perfectly to the side, but diagonal, which caused them to have to keep circling the round pen. Like they were dancing in a ballroom.

  I couldn’t understand how Leo did it. How he was able to calm that horse down and have the animal do whatever he wanted it to. I was starting to believe he was a better horse whisperer than my grandma. What he could do … that was a true gift.

  “Your turn, morena,” Leo said.

  That word again. I totally forgot to look up what that meant.

  “Is that like a nickname?”

  “Sort of.”

  “What does it mean?”

  He stood in the middle of the round pen, his side to me. Even so, I could see the big smile on his lips. “Just come here.”

  I walked to him, tensing with each step I took. “I shouldn’t do this,” I said from right behind him. “You have a gift for doing this. Not me. I’ll probably make his issues worse.”

  “Que nada. I told you. He’s your horse. You should train him.”

  “But—”

  He turned his chin to me and looked into my eyes. “I’ll be here, don’t worry. I won’t leave you alone with him, okay?”

  Those eyes … they were like two hypnotizing blue-green stones. They had to be.