All the King's Horses

by Lauren Gallagher

  And a hard-on is not going to help anything right now.

  I focused on the horse instead. On the volatile horse who needed both of our attention so none of us got killed.

  All the way down the aisle and out the door, Blue was steady and calm. In fact, he was fine right up until we got to the round pen.

  When I opened the gate, he balked. He frantically chomped the bit. His eyes were wide, the whites showing, and sweat already dampened the edges of his saddle pad.

  “Easy, sweetie,” Amy said softly, letting him inspect the open gate. I tried not to visibly shiver as I watched her hand stroking Blue’s neck, because I had no trouble whatsoever remembering what her hands felt like on me.

  Christ, Amy, if you think you’re a mess, you should hear everything that’s going on in my head these days.

  Oblivious to my thoughts, she murmured to Blue, “Just take it easy.”

  Hi sniffed around. Snorted. Pawed at the ground. After a minute or two of coaxing, though, Amy got him to walk into the round pen. She led him around it, and after a few laps in each direction, he’d relaxed as much as Blue ever relaxed when he was being worked.

  “I think he’s ready,” she said. “Let’s do this.”

  She led him to the middle of the pen and laid his reins over his neck. Then I held the reins closer to his bit, and she stood beside him. He wasn’t happy when she tightened the cinch, and tried to bite her, but I kept his head out of range. Of course, then he tried to bite me, which I corrected as firmly as I could without startling him and sending this whole operation two steps forward and ten steps back.

  Amy was in no hurry. She pushed down on the stirrup with her hand, watching his reaction as she did. To my surprise, he didn’t freak out, just turned his head a little and looked at her. Then she reached up and grabbed the saddle horn and pommel, tugging them, wiggling them, gauging how he’d react to pressure on or movement of the saddle. He still stayed calm.

  “This looks promising so far.” She looked at me and smiled. “Wish me luck.”

  I smiled back. “Good luck.” I held Blue’s reins in one hand and stroked his face with the other.

  Amy put her foot in the stirrup, then slowly and carefully hoisted herself up. As she swung her other leg over, Blue suddenly snorted and crow-hopped to the side, nearly crashing into me, and sending Amy to the ground.

  She landed with a grunt. He freaked out even more.

  “Easy, Blue.” I glanced back and forth between him and Amy as I tried to calm him and make sure she was okay, not to mention keep him from stepping on her.

  She obviously wasn’t too badly hurt, though, because she was on her feet with her clothes dusted off and her baseball cap straightened out before I’d fully settled Blue.

  “You all right?” I asked just to be sure.

  “Yeah.” She dusted her jeans off a little more. “Ready to try again?”

  Pretending my heart rate hadn’t shot through the roof and still hadn’t yet come back down, I said, “You tell me.”

  “I’m fine.” She nodded at Blue. “What about him?”

  “He came back to earth,” I said. “Should be all right.”

  “Good. Take two.”

  And take three. And four. And five. If not for the dirt on her clothes and face, I’d never have known Amy had hit the ground once, never mind almost half a dozen times: she got up each time like it was nothing, and once we’d calmed Blue down, she tried again. She bounced back each time without much more than a wince, while my blood pressure went crazy every damned time until I was absolutely sure she was okay.

  “I’m not so sure he’s ready to take a rider,” she said after the fifth time.

  “Yeah, maybe not,” I said. “You want to call it a day, or try a few more times?”

  She shook some dirt out of her ponytail. “Maybe two or three. He seems to respond okay to new things once he’s seen it won’t hurt him, but it usually takes a few tries before he gets that through his head.”

  “True, but I don’t want you getting hurt in the process.”

  “Dirt’s soft,” she said with a wave of her hand.

  “Uh, yeah, but the fence isn’t.” I gestured at the five-foot metal fence encircling us.

  She grinned. “Then I’ll make sure to aim for the dirt and not the fence.”

  God, Amy, if you get hurt…

  But I shrugged and said, “All right, your call.”

  Blue didn’t even let her get her foot in the stirrup this time. He jerked away, throwing his head, but I kept a grip on the rope. Thrashing and snorting, he stomped and side-stepped, and even as Amy scrambled to her feet, he was going to step on her if he kept this up.

  I gave the rope a sharp tug to get his attention in the same instant his rump hit the fence, which startled him and sent him lunging forward.

  As I tried to get him back under control, he shoved me sideways, and my elbow cracked against the metal rail, sending lightning all the way to my fingertips. I swore, but under my breath so I didn’t agitate him farther, and gave another tug to get his attention.

  He stopped. His front feet were apart like he was bracing against something, preparing for another reason to freak out.

  “Easy, bud,” I said, approaching slowly with my hand out. He eyed me warily, and when I touched his neck, his skin twitched like an insect had just landed on him. “Take it easy,” I said quietly. As I petted him, my fingers still tingling, he slowly calmed down. His eye whites no longer showed, his nostrils no longer flared, and his stance was more relaxed.

  “Well, that was fun.” Amy dusted herself off. “How is he?”

  “He’s fine.” I glanced at her as I walked him in circles. “What about you?”

  “I’m good. Dirt’s still nice and soft.”

  “There is that.” I looked over my shoulder as I continued leading Blue around the pen. “You want to try again?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “We can take a break,” I said. “If you need—”

  “As long as he’s not too riled up,” she said, “I’d rather keep trying. No need to stop for my benefit.”

  “All right.” I stopped him in the center of the pen. “Well, he’s quieted down now, so…”

  “Let’s do this.” She petted his neck for a moment, probably making doubly sure he’d really calmed down. Then, she gave me a slight nod, and we tried once again.

  Foot in the stirrup. Blue didn’t move. Other foot off the ground. The horse tensed a little. Leg over his back. Blue’s eyes widened, but he didn’t move. Slowly, Amy started to come down into the saddle, easing herself into place.

  And Blue reared.

  He went straight up, jerking the reins out of my hand, and before his front feet were back on the ground, the sound of Amy hitting the metal fence, then the ground, sent my stomach into my throat.

  I settled Blue enough to keep him from endangering either of us, and kept a hand on his neck as I turned to check on her.

  She’d crumpled beside the fence, and she didn’t move for a few unnerving seconds. Panic rippled through me, and I glanced at Blue. Shit, I needed to help her, but I couldn’t let him loose, especially not while she was on the ground.

  Reins in one hand, I led him toward her. “Amy, you all right?”

  She eased herself upright. Eyes screwed shut and lips contorted, she leaned against the fence and held her side with one arm.

  Still holding the reins, I knelt beside her and put a hand on her shoulder. “You okay?”

  She gave a thumbs-up, and I realized she was holding her breath.

  “Amy?”

  Her lips parted, and she slowly exhaled. “I’m fine.” She opened her eyes. “Just knocked the wind out of me.” She spat in the dirt, and when she wiped the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand, the thin smear of red sent a chill down my spine.

  “Oh shit,” I said. “Are you—”

  “It’s okay.” She spat again. “Just bit my tongue.”

  Blue tugged
on the reins, so I stood and petted him to keep him calm while Amy was on the ground.

  “How bad do you hurt?”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Feeling pretty spectacular anywhere I hit metal or dirt, if that helps.”

  “You know what I mean. Anything that needs attention?”

  “Nothing serious.” She extended her hand and beckoned like she wanted me to help her up. “I can walk it off.”

  “You sure?”

  She beckoned again.

  I extended my hand, and we clasped our hands around each other’s forearms. Even when she was on her feet, I didn’t let go right away, not until I was sure she was steady. This was one of the few times touching her didn’t rouse any kind of response in me beyond just making sure she was all right. I knew all too well how easily a fall like that could do some serious damage. My heart pounded, and my stomach twisted. God, if she got hurt because of my horse…

  “I’m okay,” she said in a half-strangled voice. “I’m fine.” I let her go, cool relief rushing through my veins and slowly bringing my heart rate down. She kept one arm close to her side, brushing dirt off her clothes with the other hand. Moving slowly, she bent to pick up her baseball cap, and after she’d shaken some dirt out of her hair, she put the hat back on. While I held Blue’s reins and made sure he was quieted down, Amy walked around the round pen. She obviously didn’t want to limp, but her gait faltered every time she put weight on her right leg.

  “How bad is it?” I asked. “Your leg?”

  She made even more effort to hide the limp. “Probably a lot better than it’s gonna be in a few hours.”

  “Meaning?”

  She glanced at me, smirking. “I’m fine, Dr. Worry Wart. Nothing’s broken, and nothing’s bleeding.”

  “I’m just making sure.”

  “Relax.” She gingerly bent and straightened her arm, the bill of her hat not quite hiding the way she winced with every motion.

  About the time I was going to suggest she sit for a little while, she squared her shoulders and looked me in the eye.

  “Ready to try again?”

  I blinked. “Maybe we should call it—”

  “I’m fine, Dustin,” she said. “I want to try again.”

  “With as sore as you obviously are?”

  “I’ll be a lot sorer later. Might as well give it a go now while I can still move.”

  I eyed her, then chuckled and shook my head. “Tough girl, eh?” I am so glad you’re okay. “Remind me never to get in a bar brawl with you.”

  She laughed. “Smart man.”

  Between Amy’s mild but sore injuries, and Blue’s agitation, we decided to call it a day and give him a few days before we tried again. We put him away, and then went up to my side of the duplex so she could recuperate a little.

  Amy reclined against a stack of cushions, and I handed her an ice pack over the back of the couch.

  “Thanks.” She gingerly pressed it against her elbow.

  “You just needed one more, right?”

  She nodded. “Yeah. For my leg. Everything else is fine.”

  “You sure?” I pulled another ice pack out of the freezer. “I’ve got plenty more if you need them.”

  “I’m fine, I promise.” She eyed me over the back of the couch as I closed the freezer door. “It’s just a few bumps and bruises.”

  “Yeah, but that last fall…”

  “I’ve had worse. Trust me.”

  “Still…” I wrapped a towel around the second pack. “Any swelling or anything?”

  She lifted the icepack and looked at her elbow. “It’s a little puffy. To be expected, I think.” Wincing, she pressed the ice against it again.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to have it looked at?” I handed her the pack. “Just to be on the safe side?”

  “I’m fine.” She grinned. “How far do you think I’d get in this business if I was a delicate fucking flower?”

  I laughed. “Okay, but even a tough girl’s bones can crack if she lands hard enough.”

  She smiled up at me. “I’m fine, Dustin.” She held the second ice pack and looked at her leg, then the pack she had pressed against her arm. “Hmm. This could get interesting.”

  “Here. Let me.” I pulled a chair up next to the couch and took the pack from her. I pressed it gently against her leg, and she sucked in a breath. Raising my eyebrows, I said, “You okay?”

  Amy nodded. “It’s bruised all to hell. Just…be careful.”

  “I will.” I tried to think about nothing but the ice under my fingers, along with the dull ache that came from the intense cold, and not how close I was sitting to her. I didn’t even know what I wanted now—if this was stubbornly persistent lust or if I just wanted to be able to hold her because thank God she was all right.

  She closed her eyes and rested her head against the pillow. The ice pack in her hand crinkled softly as she shifted it a little, and her lips tightened for a second before she got comfortable. Without opening her eyes, she said, “So you keep a freezer fully stocked with icepacks. Use them often?”

  I laughed. “Are you kidding? I work with babies and abuse cases all day.”

  “Good. I feel better now.”

  “Come on,” I said. “You didn’t think you were the only one to get banged up out there, did you?”

  “No. But sometimes it’s good to remind myself.” She opened her eyes and smirked. “Call it icing my bruised pride, plus a little schadenfreude.”

  I chuckled. “Considering how many times you dusted yourself and got back on, I would think your pride should be the only thing that isn’t bruised.” And I’m lucky you didn’t give me heart failure five times over out there.

  “Yeah, well.” She shifted a bit, swearing under her breath softly. Then, nodding toward the ice pack on her arm, she said, “So tell me about some of the times you’ve had to use these.”

  “Would your bruised pride feel better after hearing about the times I was in a cast?”

  “Times?” She raised an eyebrow. “Plural? Oh, do tell.”

  “Sadist,” I muttered.

  She grinned. “Only when I’m in pain. Come on, tell me about your mishaps.”

  “Well, there was one nasty one back when I used to do team roping,” I said. “A few years ago, we were at regionals. I was the heeler, and my buddy was the header. He’d already gotten the rope on the steer, I was getting ready to throw my own rope, and the steer suddenly decides he’s having none of it.”

  Amy’s eyes widened. “That doesn’t sound good…”

  “Uh, no. The steer suddenly went right when we thought he was going to keep going straight, and…” I waved my free hand. “Hell, I’m not even sure what exactly happened, and we didn’t get it on video. The steer went one way, I couldn’t stop or turn in time, my horse got tangled up in my buddy’s rope, and my horse and I both hit the dirt.”

  She grimaced again. “Oh, shit…”

  “Somehow, my buddy and his horse didn’t join us, but my horse and I both ate dirt.”

  “Was the horse okay?”

  I eyed her. “Gee, thanks.”

  “Hey, you’re here and kicking,” she said with a half shrug. “It’s pretty obvious you were fine.”

  “Okay, fair enough,” I said. “And he was okay too. It was scary as hell, though. One second, I see the rope in front of us, and the next thing I know, I’m limping out of the arena with my arms around two other guys’ shoulders while my dad’s leading my horse out.”

  “But you could walk. That’s a good sign.”

  “I got lucky, believe me. And I’m kind of okay with the fact that I don’t remember anything between seeing the rope and leaving the arena.”

  “Yeah, I would be too.”

  “Fun stuff, am I right?” I nodded at the pack on her leg. “Is this still comfortable?”

  “Comfortable being a relative term, yes.” She adjusted the ice pack on her arm. “So you could walk, but how many bones did you break?”

&nb
sp; “Not a one.” I chuckled, shaking my head. “I know the horse at least landed on top of my leg, but somehow or another, I didn’t break a thing. I was sore as hell for a few days, but otherwise, not a scratch.”

  She threw me a playful scowl. “I thought you were going to tell me about the times you were in casts.”

  “Yeah, I’m getting to that.” I switched hands on the ice pack, since my fingers were getting cold. “So I survived that without a scratch, right?”

  “Mm-hmm…”

  “Okay, well, that winter, Dad and I are breaking up ice in the water tubs out in the pastures.”

  Amy snickered. “Oh God, I think I see where this is going.”

  Laughing, I nodded. “Stepped on a piece of ice that was sitting on another piece of ice, went ass over teakettle, and broke my arm in two places.”

  She snorted, wincing slightly. “No way.”

  “Dead serious.”

  “Isn’t that how it always happens?”

  “You too, huh?”

  “Well, not exactly the same way.” She threw me a devilish smirk. “I’ve managed to make it through my career without ever having my ass kicked by a piece of ice.”

  I glanced at the ice pack in my hand, then eyed her. “It’s not too late for that, you know.”

  “I’m kidding! I’m kidding!” Amy giggled.

  I laughed. “So do you feel better about wearing a few ice packs after crashing into a fence?”

  “Much, yes,” she said. “And I’ve had a few scary falls myself.”

  “Such as?”

  “Oh, you know. Getting unloaded trying to break a youngster to saddle. Flighty ex-racehorses getting me intimately acquainted with arena walls. Stuff like that.” She turned her arm so the ice pack was between her elbow and the couch, freeing up her other hand, which she rested behind her head. “Scariest one, hands down, was at a hunter/jumper show about five years ago.”

  “Yeah?” Something twisted in my chest. This was a dangerous business, and obviously whatever happened hadn’t left her any worse for the wear in the long run. That didn’t stop me from shuddering at the mere thought of something more serious than today’s incident. Still, I asked, “So what happened?”