He could teach and reward, teach and reward, teach and reward—and the horse would do it every single time. Not only that, but they loved him for it, and he loved them right back. “All right, DC,” he said. “I’m gonna pull you real tight in this time.”
He urged her to move, and then trot, and then gallop. He took her around the full circumference of the arena before aiming her at the far barrel and spurring her into a barrel-racing run. “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!”
He yipped and leaned low over her head the way his rider would. He weighed far more than a female barrel racer ever would, and that only meant that Daisy Chain would be able to handle whoever rode her.
“Tight, tight, tight,” he yelled as he pulled hard on the left to get her to go closer to the barrel than she’d ever gone before. She hit it with her shoulder, and he cursed mentally but urged Daisy toward the next barrel, impressed with the way she picked up her gallop—the exact way she’d been taught.
He cut her in tight on the right this time too, and she refused to do it. Tarr straightened and slowed her, not bothering with the third barrel, which would be another turn to the right.
He needed her to get left and then right correctly before he moved on. “All right, sweetheart,” he said. “Let’s try again.” He moved her into an easy canter and then a gallop, and then aimed her for the far barrel again.
She cut close to this one, and he managed to keep her from knocking into it. She still wasn’t as tight as he wanted her to be, but he told himself he’d only been leading her around the barrels at a walk. She knew them, obviously, but he wanted her to be able to sense them and cut close, using her strong legs and hooves to get her where she needed to go in less time than ever before.
They approached the second barrel and Daisy Chain fell out of her gallop. “Hey, what’s going on?” He straightened again, the reins in his hands tight, giving her no room. She loped around the barrel, clearly not wanting him to make her cut that close.
“All right, let’s just do an easy one, then.” He took her around the barrels and this time aimed for the one that was usually on the side. She cut around it just fine, moving at probably half the speed as before. He approached the barrel she wouldn’t go around, and she did that one fine too, and the third one.
“So you’re just being lazy today. Is that it?” He chuckled as he imagined Daisy Chain saying,You worked me hard, cowboy. I’m allowed to have an off-day.
And she was. He just didn’t want it to be during a competition. Animals had to be mentally strong as well, and that required training too.
Tarr ran her through a few more exercises and then spurred her toward that far barrel one more time. “Come on, girl,” he yelled. “You gotta get it once.”
She once again cut close to that first barrel, far more hesitant to get close to the second. She did it, though, at her usual distance, and Tarr yipped as he ran her toward the third and final barrel. She cut right for this one, and she did that extremely well. She’d always been better at going right than left, which made that first turn even weirder.
He waved his arms left and right, though he didn’t carry a whip with him during training, and urged Daisy all the way to the end of the arena at her fastest clip. His adrenaline pounded through his body as he eased up and the horse slowed. He kept her galloping and then moved her into a canter, simply going around the arena at an easy pace.
“That was incredible, girl.”
He heard someone whistle, and he looked over to find Briar sitting on the top row of their bleachers. She grinned and waved, and Tarr reached up and lifted his hat to her.
Daisy ran for a few more minutes, and then Tarr moved her into a walk. Her sides heaved, and he went around and around with her, checking the enormous clock at the end of the arena to make sure he had time to rake things out before Rosie arrived for her training. She’d been meeting with Tuck to go over things on paper and run through them in her mind before they showed up at the arena, and Tarr had been using that time to train his horses.
He hoped Daisy Chain would be ready for this summer’s rodeo season, and he had another month or so before he’d need to put up videos and start trying to find a buyer for her.
He brought the horse to a stop in front of Briar. “How long you been sitting there?”
“Just for the last ride,” she said. “She’s looking good.”
“She’s not cutting tight enough on that second barrel.” He stroked a hand down Daisy Chain’s neck. “But we’ll get ‘er there.”
“She’s beautiful,” Briar said.
Daisy was a gray with mostly white hair and a dark mane and tail. Tarr would clean her up good and blow out her hair and probably put ribbons in it before he had Tuck film for the listing. Once, he’d paid someone to come braid a horse’s mane, and she’d sold in fifteen minutes. He knew it was more than aesthetics, but he also knew that cowgirls liked their horses to look as good as them, and showing that a horse had patience to have her hair braided went a long way.
Briar came down the few rows of bleachers and then climbed up a couple of rungs on the fence. “What are you doing later?”
He grinned at her. “The same thing I do every day, sweetheart.”
“Yeah, but you work with different horses,” she said. “And my paperwork is light today. I was thinking I’d go home and make chicken pot pie soup, and you could go grab us some bread bowls.”
“Oh, I see,” he said. “You want to use me for my shopping ability.”
She grinned at him. “That’s right, cowboy. I wouldn’t be opposed to some of that broccoli salad that you somehow manage to find in the deli.”
“It’s always there,” he said with a chuckle.
“I’ve never been able to find it. That’s all I’m saying.”
