“Yes,” said Austin. His eyes were bright with the challenge of putting his booted foot in Gwen’s stirrup to pull himself up and into the saddle. Then he sat there, almost shocked that he’d done it, and grabbed the saddle horn when Gwen stomped her foot to adjust herself beneath his weight. “Man, it’s a long way to the ground from here.”
“It’s shorter than you might think,” said Clay smiling, and then he allowed himself to pat Austin’s leg. Though he meant to pat his knee, Gwen moved, shifting again, and he ended up patting Austin’s thigh, which was long and muscled and just right at eye level, making it very hard not to stare. “We neck rein here, so to go right, you pull the reins across her neck to the right. To go left, pull the reins across her neck to go left. And to stop? Pull back gently. To go? Nudge her with your heels. Okay?”
“Okay.” Seeming delighted with both the pat and the easy instructions, Austin drew his whole body up into a single line, like he was ready to march through whatever fears he might have.
Brody led the lesson, giving instructions for the guests to walk their horses around the arena, then picking up the pace a bit to a trot. His instructions were in a calm tone of voice, the one he used when working with any horse, any person, and it made the lesson go smoothly.
The riders were confident enough to even do a bit of a canter, then a trot, and then a canter. It was when Brody instructed them to slow to a walk and turn their horses to go the other direction that the trouble started.
Most guests were just happy to be on a horse, happy to follow instructions, happy just to be riding. But one rider, a young man who, as Clay suspected from the get-go, was extremely bored with the whole thing, had leaned forward to unbuckle his horse’s bridle. Like a kid who is messing around to see how much he can get away with.
The young man was astride Beltaine, a sweet, dark mare who adored her friend Gwen. Sensing her bridle was off, Beltaine must have figured the lesson was over, for she gave a slight hop and bucked her rider to the ground, then trotted briskly over to where Austin was dutifully trying to turn Gwen to go the other way.
“Hey,” the young man shouted. “She fucking bucked me off! My dad’s going to hear about this, you wait and see. I’m going to call him.”
Aroused by the shouting, the horses grew a little anxious and their riders with them. As Brody worked to settle everyone down, Clay hurried to Austin who didn’t know how to back his horse up to untangle himself from the situation he found himself in, which was with Beltaine sidling up to Gwen, who was now pressed to the fence line.
There wasn’t enough time to grab Beltaine’s bridle from the ground, so Clay scooted over and shouldered his way in between the two horses. Not the smartest thing, as each weighed enough to smash him, should they so choose. Austin’s face was white, though he sensibly did not yank on Gwen’s reins, but held onto the saddle horn. He needed rescuing, and Clay was going to be the one to do it.
“Just sit tight,” said Clay. “Here, girl, here.” He reached under Beltaine’s jaw and cupped his hand around her soft chin and gave a little tug. “C’mon then, Beltaine, there’s a good girl. Walk this way, okay?”
All the horses on the ranch were treated with kindness and slow hands, so inside of a minute, Clay was escorting Beltaine over to where Quint had entered the arena and had picked up the unbuckled bridle to hand it to Brody.
“It wasn’t her fault,” said Brody, quickly.
“I know it,” said Quint. He seemed to tower over everyone and everything as he pointed at the miscreant. “You. Get out of the arena.”
“I want my lesson,” said the young man. “I paid for a lesson and riding and stuff and I’m going to get it.”
Quint moved close, so close that only Clay could have heard what he was saying.
“You will get out of this arena or I will pick you up and carry you out, understand?” Quint’s glare was enough to shock the young man into stillness. “You disrupted the lesson and scared these good people, not to mention distracting Beltaine from her job, so if I hear one more word, you will pack up your stuff and go home. No refund. Got it?”
There was a long, still moment, and then the young man, looking a little pale beneath the dust on his face, nodded and followed Quint’s instructions to the letter. When the arena was quiet, Quint half-bowed to Brody and then to Clay, and slipped between the wooden rails to walk back to where he’d come from.
“Well, then,” said Brody. “Y’all want to try that again? Just take it slow, and gently pull your reins against the horse’s neck until they are facing the other way. No rush. We’ve got time.”
To Clay he said as he patted Beltaine’s neck, “Just take her back to the barn and give her a good brushing and carrots or something, for a treat. She deserves it for being so patient.”
“You got it,” said Clay, and though he really wanted to stay and help Austin learn to ride a horse, he slipped the reins around Beltaine’s neck. Then he opened the gate and led her back to the barn, sighing the whole while, feeling like the fates must be furiously trying to keep him from Austin.
Except maybe the fates wanted to reward him for sticking to his work, for just after dinner, when he was clomping down the wooden stairs of the main lodge, head swiveling to catch sight of Austin, he actually saw him just beyond the small green glade in front of the staff quarters. His head was down, he had something tucked beneath his arm, and he was headed at a fast clip to the barn.
“Where are you headed?” Clay called out as he hustled to catch up. “I didn’t see you at dinner. Where are you going?”
“Oh.” Austin stopped, gripping what looked like a small box that might or might not contain paints, and a pad of paper to his chest. “I was going to ask Leland if I could borrow his truck, as I wanted to find a view to paint. You know, to pick it up now that I don’t have to justify it to—”
Clay knew that Austin was thinking about Mona and had just revealed she didn’t think much of his painting, but he kept his ongoing negative opinion to himself.
“Can I come?” he asked in a hopeful voice. “I mean, I know some great views. I could take you in Ladybelle, if you’d like. Leland would probably lend you his truck, sure, but I’d be happy to take you.” When Austin paused, hesitating like Clay had asked him if he wanted company while jumping off a cliff, Clay added, “I won’t pester you or anything, but I could show you this view I’m thinking of and next time you could take yourself.” He had to let this go if Austin truly didn’t want him along, even though it would be hard.
“Sure, okay.” Austin still looked like he would rather go alone, a nervous light in his eyes and the way he held his supplies tight, like he thought Clay might try to take them away from him.
“Really?” asked Clay. “I can get you there in ten minutes and then wait in the truck or walk along the ridge, whatever you need.”
“Thank you,” said Austin. “I don’t mean to be a heel about it, I’m just used to—I’m just used to it being more difficult than this.”
“Well, I’ll make it as easy as pie, just you wait.”
