The Good, the Bad, and the Pugly (An Alpine Grove Romantic Comedy Book 7)

by Susan C. Daffron

  “So he’s not going to freak out or anything, right?”

  Clay looked at the horse’s head, then at Brigid. “Does he look like he’s going to freak out?”

  “Well, no. I guess not. I’m just checking.”

  “Horses aren’t so different from people. Some are more sensitive than others, that’s all.”

  Brigid tried to decide if he was still talking about the horse or not. “I guess that makes sense.”

  “If we keep standing here, Hank will probably start falling asleep.” Clay scritched the horse’s cheek below one of his half-closed eyes. “I don’t think you have much to worry about at the moment.”

  “Okay.”

  He moved and the horse stepped forward toward Brigid, who stepped back, pulling Judge with her.

  Clay studied her face for a second. “Well, let me know if you need anything.” He grabbed Hank’s mane, swung his leg back, leaped up on the horse, and turned the huge animal around. “See ya.”

  “Wait! I forgot. I need to ask you something.”

  He turned Hank back around in a tight circle to face her again. “What’s that?”

  “Another dog came in. Can we build another kennel here?”

  He set the reins down in front of him on the horse’s neck. “I suppose. How many are you planning on having here? I thought you had other ideas.”

  “I do. But in three days, this beautiful greyhound will be shipped off. His name is Nugget and he’s a little scared, but he snuggles up to you. It’s the cutest thing.”

  Clay chuckled. “Well, okay then. How could I possibly refuse a snuggling greyhound?”

  “I can help you now, if you’ve got time. I just need to get back to town later to walk Nugget again at the station.”

  “All right. I’ll let Hank hang out with his buddies in the pasture. Then we can get started.”

  “Thank you.”

  He tipped his hat again. “No problem. I’ll meet you at the barn.”

  Brigid continued walking Judge down the driveway. Clay had asked a valid question. How many kennels were they going to set up? This situation could get completely out of hand quickly. She was just one person, and eventually he’d say no to more dogs. It was definitely time to get some help, given that she was already feeling like she was in over her head. More stray dogs were going to come in whether she was ready or not.

  By the time Brigid returned from her walk with Judge, Clay had already pounded in some posts and fired up the stinky old tractor again. She waited outside the barn with Judge while Clay used the tractor to dump some gravel into place. After the tractor was silent again, she returned Judge to his enclosure. The dog happily nestled himself into the blanket on his platform for a nap.

  Brigid held the fencing while Clay attached it to the posts. He had to be one of the least demanding people she’d ever met. Somehow, he seemed to know that she was out of her element, but her silence didn’t seem to bother him as he efficiently worked to finish up the fence and attach the gate.

  Picking up his toolbox, he looked at her. “Is everything okay? You seem upset.”

  “I guess I’m just still thinking about what you said. You’re right. How many kennels can we realistically put here? I’m not sure what I’ve gotten myself into. I can’t just keep putting dogs in your barn.”

  He grinned. “I’m glad you’re figuring this out now and not when you have thirty five animals in here.”

  Brigid couldn’t help but smile back. “Thanks for being so nice about this. You probably think I’m some kind of dog nut.”

  “No, although you do seem to be wound a little tight.” He leaned against the door frame of the tool room. “Usually when I’ve got a problem, I go for a ride. It helps me think.”

  “I told you, I don’t ride.”

  “Want to try again? I promise I won’t yell at you.” He gestured toward the pasture. “Willy is the most mellow horse you’ll ever meet. And now in his retirement, he’s kind of a slug. I’m not sure you could get him to gallop, even if you wanted to.”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “If you’re going come out here every day, you need to get used to being around horses.”

  Brigid was dubious, but he did have a point. “All right. But only if we go really slowly.”

  “Willy will like that idea. Slow is his favorite speed. Let’s go get them.”

  “Me too?”

  “Yes, you too.”

  Clay grabbed some halters with lead ropes off a hook and they walked past the barn out to the pasture. The horses all came over to the fence to see what Clay was up to. He walked through the gate and spoke softly to each horse as he rubbed its neck. Brigid couldn’t hear what he was saying as he threw a rope over the neck of a brown and white horse, put the halter over the horse’s nose, and buckled it behind the horse’s ears. She said, “I hope you’re telling him to be gentle with me.”

  Clay walked through the gate with the horse. “Meet Willy. He’s not going anywhere, but hang onto the rope for me for a second.”

  Brigid reached out her hand to take the rope and Willy turned his big head toward her. “What’s he doing?”

  “Relax, he’s just looking at you.”

  More than a little embarrassed, Brigid held the rope near Willy’s neck as Clay had instructed and tried to regain her composure. She was being such a wimp.

  Clay walked out with the buckskin horse he’d been riding earlier and closed the gate again. “Okay, time for a little horse safety information. When you meet a horse, always approach him from the left and from the front if you can. Horses have monocular vision, so there are blind spots where they can’t see you. They can’t see right in front of their nose or directly behind them. You can think of their field of vision as like the shape of an hourglass on its side or butterfly wings. Since you don’t want to sneak up on or surprise something as large as a horse, you want to approach from an angle. And always scratch or stroke the horse, but don’t slap him. Try not to make sudden movements or noises either. Got it?”

  Even though it seemed like a lot to remember, Brigid nodded in agreement.

  “Okay, let’s go to the barn and get them saddled up. A lot of this stuff is just common sense. I’m sure you don’t like people running and screaming around you. Horses are the same way.”

  Brigid led Willy and walked with Clay and Hank to the barn. Too bad no one had explained horse safety to the screaming kid with the shopping cart at the grocery store. As they walked, she reached with her other hand to stroke the horse’s neck. “Be nice, Willy. You’re a lot bigger than I am.”

  In the barn, Clay tied up the horses and explained to Brigid how to pick the hooves, brush the horses, and saddle them. Brigid liked the grooming part. It was relaxing and Willy seemed to enjoy it too. He swished his tail at a fly, but other than that he stood almost completely still while she ran the brush over his body.

  After Willy was saddled, Clay gently stretched each of the horse’s front legs out in front of him. When Brigid asked why, he said it was to make sure there wasn’t any folded skin under the cinch that might be uncomfortable or pinch the horse.

  Clay tightened the cinch again and moved Willy next to a yellow plastic mounting block. With a flamboyant gesture, he encouraged her to come near the horse. “Your mount is ready m’lady.”

  Brigid stepped up on the block, put her left foot in the stirrup, and threw her other leg over Willy’s back. She tried to put her right foot into the other stirrup, but couldn’t reach it. “It’s really long.”

  “You’re really short,” Clay said as he readjusted the length of the stirrups. “Okay. Try that.”

  Once her feet were in the stirrups and she was settled in the saddle, Brigid looked around the barn while Clay dealt with saddling Hank. The ground seemed extremely far away, but as long as she was just sitting here motionless, she wasn’t likely to fall off anyway.

  Clay got on Hank, turned the horse around to face her, and gave her some basic riding instructions. �
��We’re just going to walk, so you don’t have to do much except follow me and Hank. Willy knows the way, so it’s the next best thing to a pony ride.”

  Brigid followed his directions and they walked out of the barn. Willy seemed content to go slowly, which was a relief. Now that she’d spent some time grooming him, the horse didn’t seem quite as intimidating. Willy methodically plodded along after Hank, and as they went across the road up into the trees, Brigid started to enjoy the view from up high. “Where are we going?”

  “National forest land. I’ve got a special permit to take people for rides back in there. It goes for miles.” He waved to indicate she should ride alongside him. “The trail widens out here. C’mon up next to me.”

  Brigid gave Willy a little kick and almost had a mini-heart attack as the horse jolted into a speed-walk to get up next to Hank. Clay smiled. “Good boy, Willy.”

  Brigid said, “We’re not going to go fast, right?”

  “Nope. I just thought you’d have more fun if you got to look at something other than Hank’s butt.”

  Brigid chuckled, “Well, he’s got a nice butt. It’s very muscular.”

  “Aw, you’ll give him a big head.” He stroked the horse’s neck. “He’s a good horse, and coming along nicely. He just needs some more miles on him.”

  “This is really beautiful back in here.”

  “It is.” He glanced at her. “You’re looking a little more relaxed too.”

  “I am, although I’m still worried about what I’m going to do. Thanks for taking me out.”

  “Sometimes getting away can be helpful.”

  “This must have been an amazing place to grow up. I can’t imagine it.”

  “Well, it wasn’t all trail rides on pretty sunny days. This was a cattle ranch then, so mostly it was work. Half the year you’re out there freezing your toes off getting cows fed and dealing with calving. Then the rest of the year there’s fence and equipment to repair, building projects, cleaning corrals, haying.” He gestured dismissively. “It’s boring, hard work. You don’t wanna know.”

  “Is that why you left?”

  Clay glanced over at her quickly. “I guess you heard that at the bookstore. Yeah, it’s a long story, but that’s some of it. I left here when I was eighteen, a while after I graduated.”

  “From what Margaret said, it sounds like you were very successful.”

  He laughed. “I don’t know about that. More like young and stupid.”

  “I can understand that. I left home pretty young too. And I was definitely stupid.”

  “It seems to me you’re doing the best you can with the dogs. Trying to help them while you’re on your vacation is admirable. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who would do that.”

  Brigid gripped the reins more tightly. “I don’t think I’m doing a very good job of it. I have this habit of following my heart instead of my head. You’d think I’d know better by now.”

  “What did you do before you came here?”

  Brigid looked straight ahead, wishing she could gallop off without falling off and breaking her neck. Of course, Clay was such a good rider, he’d just catch her anyway. Drat. “I, um, had a lot of jobs. I moved around a lot because my husband was in the military.”

  “I get the impression you’re not married now.”

  “No. He’s dead.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not.” Brigid looked at Clay in horror. She’d actually said it out loud. “I mean, I know that sounds terrible. And it is. I don’t mean I’m glad he’s dead. Just that he’s not in my life. I uh, we didn’t have a good marriage…we were about to split up. I still shouldn’t have said that though. That was horrible. I…um…my husband…he had some problems.”

  “You feel how you feel.” Clay glanced at her. “I think I understand.”

  “No! No, you don’t. It’s not like John was a bad person. We just fought all the time. Together we were just awful to each other. Hateful. I can’t believe I said the things I did. If he hadn’t been overseas so much, we would have split up before he did what he… I mean...well, it would have been sooner.”

  “I’m thinking that’s why you were terrified when I touched you, isn’t it?”

  “What? No, of course I wasn’t.”

  “You were shaking like a leaf.”

  “I am very grateful to you for letting the dogs stay at the ranch.”

  “That’s nice of you to say, but I know that look in your eyes wasn’t gratitude.”

  Brigid shook her head even though she knew he wouldn’t believe her, particularly since he was right.

  Chapter 4

  On the Trail

  Brigid stared fixedly at the trail ahead as they rode in silence, the only noise the sound of hooves crunching on dry pine needles. It was easy to blame her failed marriage on the military. Everyone knew that being an Army wife could be difficult and that any marriage required work. But getting married young to someone you barely knew was a recipe for disaster.

  Brigid had known as little about John as he’d known about her. Neither of them had any clue about marriage or the amount of dedication life in the military required. Even when John hadn’t been overseas, all they did was argue. They fought about big things and small things. There were endless disagreements about everything from the right way to wash the dishes to the latest temporary duty assignment. Brigid didn’t miss the never-ending barrage of bitterness, sulking, and hateful words.

  She scowled at Willy’s pointy ears. Being around Clay was becoming more uncomfortable, since in his quiet way he seemed to be able to tell what she was thinking. It was downright creepy. How did he know what had happened with John? Maybe someone told him? But that was impossible, since no one here knew her. It certainly wasn’t like she was going to volunteer that information to anyone.

  Most people just ignored her and stayed within the comfortable realm of small talk, which was a lot easier. Clay didn’t seem to deal in small talk much at all. It was odd. What was wrong with the guy? He either said nothing or said things that made her uncomfortable. Maybe spending so much time around horses had damaged his social skills.

  She glanced to her right, where Hank was still slowly clopping along. She moved her gaze up to Clay and gasped. “What on earth are you doing?”

  Clay was standing on the horse’s back with his arms outstretched above his head. He actually looked sort of peaceful or bored like he was waiting for a bus. “Horse yoga.” He’d removed his boots and they were hanging from a strap on the saddle.

  “Are you insane?”

  “Not the last time I checked.” He leaned forward, placed his hands on the horse’s neck, and stretched a leg out behind him, pointing his toes. “I’m not suggesting you do this, but it’s good for balance. And relaxing once you get into the rhythm of the horse’s movement.”

  “This is the horse that is afraid of dog food bags! What if he bolts off? You could kill yourself.”

  “I suppose.” He sat back down on the saddle and put on a sock. “Maybe then you’d finally get out of your head and stop brooding.”

  “I am not brooding. I’m riding.”

  “You’re festering on something and it’s eating you up. Maybe you don’t want to talk to me, but you need to talk to someone about whatever happened to you.”

  “No I don’t! And, not that it’s any of your business, but I did that. I went to counseling. And groups. After my husband died, I did everything everyone said I was supposed to.”

  “But you didn’t really let it out, did you?” He stretched forward onto Hank’s neck so he could turn his head back and see her face. “You said what you thought they wanted to hear, not the whole story.”

  Brigid wiped an errant tear from her eye. “It’s been a year now. I’m over it. Totally over it.”

  “If you don’t want to talk, that’s okay.” He sat straight in the saddle again and busied himself putting his socks and boots back on. “You know, the great thing about horses is that the
y never lie. They’re honest to a fault. Whenever I have a problem with a horse, the first thing I have to ask is why. What is making the horse do this? Because if you pay attention, the horse will let you know what’s going on. And once you understand the problem, you’ve taken the first step toward solving it.”

  Brigid glared at him. “Are you actually comparing me to a horse? A thousand pound beast of burden? You’ve got to be kidding me. This is beyond insulting. You’ve really got a lot of nerve.”

  “I suppose I do, and right now I’m thinking there might be some truth to that whole thing they say about redheads having a temper. Maybe getting mad at me will help.” He hooked a leg over the saddle horn so he was sideways, facing her. “Everybody has problems. A past with things you wish were different. I know I do and it took me a lot of time riding out here to reconcile myself to it.”

  Brigid pushed her hair back behind her ear in frustration and stared at Willy’s ears again. “I don’t need to reconcile anything. I’m fine. Can’t we just talk about the weather or something?”

  After a long pause, Clay moved his leg, so he was facing forward in the saddle again. He looked up at the deep blue sky and said, “It’s sure a nice day for a ride. Almost like it’s apologizing for last winter. I know you weren’t here, but it was sure a wicked one. Half the county lost electricity during a freak Thanksgiving blizzard, then there was the cold and more snow. Mother Nature really had herself quite a party.”

  She looked over at Clay and met his gaze. The sympathy in his dark eyes seemed to melt the hard knot of anger and tension in her chest. “Yes…yes it is beautiful today. So beautiful.” She collected the reins more tightly and Willy started to attention. “I...I, think I need to get off now.”

  Clay moved Hank in front of her, so he could grab Willy’s reins. With a fluid motion, he dismounted and held both horses as Brigid removed her feet from the stirrups and slid down to the ground. She leaned her forehead against the saddle and let herself cry as she stroked the smooth hair on the horse’s neck.