Wanted: Sharpshooter

by Florence Witkop

CHAPTER 14

  I returned to Green Forest long after the sun was up. It was a clear, bright day, the kind people associate with long horseback rides along shade-dappled trails with a picnic under a spreading oak before the return ride. I'd enjoyed many such days as a child and since joining Green Forest Stables. Distance rides, picnics and beautiful days were among the perks of the job. As I pulled into the parking area, I wondered when I'd be able to enjoy any of those things again.

  With Carlos out of the picture, it was up to me to keep the horses safe and secure the future of Green Forest Stables. With Max's help. More honestly, Max would protect the horses and I'd do whatever I could to help him, not the other way around. For the first time ever I wished I'd taken my dad up on his offer of shooting lessons when we learned I couldn't hit the broad side of a barn. I felt more helpless than ever in my life.

  With Carlos gone, with two people instead of three, everything changed. The place had to be protected from the cougar but the horses couldn't be neglected and we had to figure out how to do that.

  I was the one who normally took the horses for trail rides while Carlos did the actual training. Thank goodness, Max had already started the process of learning how to train horses. Even in the couple days he'd been around, he'd learned a few things and the horses had come to know him. More importantly, though, he and Carlos had developed a kind of rhythm that put the horses at ease while taking them through their paces efficiently.

  I didn’t' want to interfere with whatever relationship Max had developed with the horses so mostly I watched. I soon learned that, though Carlos had taught him, he had his own style. The Max with a horse was different from the Max on a hay bale with moonlight gilding his silhouette as that Max was different from the one hunting a rogue cougar. In the rink in the daylight, he moved with a different rhythm that was fascinating to watch.

  Rhythm is important when working with horses. When Max said he wanted to learn about horses, I'd had my doubts because not everyone can connect with animals larger than themselves. But in the bright light of day, watching him work as only one of Carlos' students can, it was clear that, given enough time, Max could.

  He worked the horses one at a time. When he brought Walkabout out for his turn, he informed me that I was an unnecessary third. "Walkabout doesn't sneak close to the fence to look for an opening when I'm with him. I don't think he even wants to take a walk."

  "And when I'm around, he does?"

  "Ummm…. yeah." Max raked his fingers through the horse's dark mane that needed burrs removed after each of his unauthorized trips. "I suspect Walkabout's been misunderstood."

  "By me?" My mouth hung open. I'm the expert, after all.

  Max rubbed Walkabaout affectionately between the ears. "He's got a good heart."

  "That's what Carlos says, too, but I have my doubts."

  Walkabout reached closer to Max to nuzzle him while giving me a dirty look. I gave up. "Okay, okay." And I went to my office with what dignity I could summon to do bookwork while Max took Walkabout through his paces without my help. I watched through the window as the two of them played at training. I had to admit, albeit reluctantly, that Max was right. Walkabout was a tame kitten in Max's hands and the two were great friends.

  I returned after Max took Walkabout back to his stall. "Which horse is next?"

  "Belle." He sighed. "All Belle needs is trail work. She's here to get used to the wilderness." He knew Carlos' routine. I marveled at his learning so quickly.

  "She can't get what she needs in the yard."

  "Not really, but you can give her some time on the lunge line."

  "You should try it yourself. You should learn how."

  "Carlos said it takes time to learn how to cue the horse."

  "It does but you might as well get started."

  "Can I watch you first to get the idea?"

  The rest of the morning was spent with Max sitting on a fence rail watching me exercise each remaining horse, the ones who should be eating up miles in the forest. Going through their paces on the lunge line wasn't the same but it was beautiful, exacting work. I could feel Max watching intently, watching for the cues I gave each horse, those subtle nods of the head or movement of the line that told it when to stop or turn or change gate.

  When the last horse was back in the stable, I joined Max on the fence. "This isn't what the horses are here for. If the cougar isn't caught soon, we'll have to call the owners to come get their horses and refund what they paid."

  "Will that mean we're out of business?"

  "The owners are wealthy enough to carry the place for a while, but why have a stable without horses?"

  "I'd hoped to keep this job."

  "Me too."

  He jumped to the ground and reached for me. "We'll find that cat, Maggie, I promise you. Tonight when it comes, and that'll be the end of it."

  "Last night was quiet. It didn't come. Maybe tonight will be quiet too."

  "You hope it'll be quiet tonight. I hope the opposite."

  "I'm hoping it's gone."

  "It's not."

  "How can you be so sure?"

  "I'd stick around if I were wounded and hungry and the horses would make an easy meal."

  So we finished the day's chores, had a somber meal and cleaned the kitchen before dark. Then we sat on the porch and planned for the coming night. I took the first trip around the place while it was still light because Max wanted to be the first to walk near the forest in the dark. Even though the sun was still giving out broad strokes of light, I strolled uneasily along the fence just outside of the rails.

  As I walked and examined the fence from the outside, it occurred to me that log fences, though beautiful in pictures on a brochure, would seem like just another series of branches to any passing cougar. Cougars climb trees, and then they lie on the branches until they pounce.

  I shouldered the shotgun, and then dropped it to the cradle position as I'd seen Max do because if anything attacked, I wouldn’t have time to move it off of my shoulder. Then I slowed to one deliberate step followed by a pause before taking another. Listening between steps. So I could hear the cougar before it sprang. And hopefully survive an attack.