Brady slid a glance to his aunt. The easy smile he'd arrived withfaded.
"More like guidelines," Dan said. "Horses are a lot of fun. They can be your best friend. They also have their own personalities. Do you know what a personalityis?"
Julianne's head tipped to the side. "Is that like how I'm happy all the time and Brady is so grumpy all thetime?"
Ouch. Rough words, but Bradydidhave an excuse, losing both of hisparents.
The doctor rested one hand on Brady's shoulder. Maybe she was thinking the same thing. "That's kind of it. It's more like the way you”—she focused on Julianne—“make quick decisions. Quick friendships. And Brady”—she turned her focus to the boy—“likes to think about things. To make sure he understands how things work before hedecides."
Dan had guessed right. The kids would match up well with the horses he'd chosen. The doc...? That would remain to beseen.
"The more time you spend with a horse,” Dan said, “the more you get to know them. Just like your human friends. And when you know a horse, you can tell if something unusual is going on. A horse can feel sick. Or get a rock in its shoe—just like you. If you think something's wrong with your horse, you should tell an adultimmediately."
Both kids noddedgravely.
"Let's talk a minute about personal space." Dan shifted the helmets in his hand. So far the doctor hadn't counted. "Do you like it if one of your friends puts their hand in your mouth? Or pokes you in theeye?"
"No!" Juliannelaughed.
"So let's not do that to the horses,okay?"
The kids noddedsolemnly.
"One more important thing about space. Don't walk directly behind a horse. Any horse. It's better to give a horse a lot of space or walk in front. A horse has really powerful legs, and it can't see you when you're behind it. Believe me, you don't want to be back there if the horse decides tokick."
There was the doc's frown. He hurriedon.
"Horses have special diets. Don't feed them unless you have permission. You can bring a treat from home next time. For now..." He reached into his pocket and drew out the carrots he'd sliced up earlier. "Put a few in yourpockets."
He handed some to each kid, who eagerly stuffed them in their jeans’pockets.
He extended two carrot sticks to the doc, and their fingers brushed when she took them. Her hair wisped around her face in the breeze. A sweet scent carried to him—her perfume? Or maybe shampoo. There was a smudge of ink on her jaw, and his fingers itched to wipe itaway.
"I hate carrots," Juliannemuttered.
Dan quickly shoved away the wave of attraction that hit him low in the belly. He couldn't get distracted. He cleared his throat. "Couple more things to discuss, then you can meet thehorses."
Brady's eagerness hadreturned.
"Horses can get scared, just like you can. Don't run or shout or be wild maniacs when you're around them.Capice?"
There were those twin nodsagain.
"Do you think a horse speaks English?" he askedJulianne.
"Nu-uh."
He turned his gaze on Brady. "What aboutyou?"
The boy considered, eyes slightly narrowed. "Maybe a few words. Likecommands?"
"Yeah. Good. But the biggest way you're going to communicate with them is your body language. And your legs, once you get in thesaddle."
Julianne's nose scrunched. "What's bodylanguage?"
"It's how you hold yourself, short stuff," he told her. He made a show of slouching down, shoulders hunched. "If you walk up to a horse looking like this, the horse might think you're scared or don't have very much confidence." He straightened, standing tall. "If you stand and walk like this, the horse will know you believe in yourself. You're the boss. You’re strong and confident and ready toride."
While he'd been talking, Brady's spine had straightened incrementally. Julianne was already there, but her chin was up. The child exudedjoy.
