We manage and we do get things handled, but at some point, we’re going to need to bring in some additional help. Our horse training business has taken off and is beginning to feel a bit overwhelming at times.
I see Cash in the distance, turning around on his horse as he waves for us to follow him.
“Look, over here!”
I dig my heels into the sides of my gelding, sitting deep in my seat as he immediately rocks, breaking into a lope. Austin clucks his tongue to the dappled mare he’s on, breaking into the same gait as we head in the direction of where Cash is sitting on his horse.
Cash slides his feet from his stirrups, throwing his leg around the withers of his horse before sliding onto the ground. He walks over to the suspicious looking post and begins to wiggle it.
It moves in the ground and when it does, it creates just enough space for a calf to slide under the rails.
“This must be where he got out from.”
I glance around, pulling out my phone to mark the exact location. Reaching into my saddle bag, I pull out a red ribbon and hand it to Cash to tie around it.
“Let’s keep them out of this field for now,” I tell Cash, glancing around the pasture. “We can get it fixed tomorrow.”
Cash shakes his head. “I can get it today, that way we don’t have to worry about it anymore.” He walks back to his horse, grabbing the reins in his left hand as he grabs onto the horn. He slides his left foot into the stirrup, grabbing the back of his saddle with his right hand as he hoists himself back into his seat.
“We’ll all get it,” I say as we begin to ride back toward the barn. I glance over at Austin, mischief dancing in his eyes. “I’ll race you there.”
Cash erupts with laughter, immediately leaning forward on his horse as he squeezes her body with his legs. “It’s on!”
We all break out into a gallop, our horses kicking up dust as we race across the hollow. My gelding’s legs stretch, his stride long as he carries me ahead of my brother and friend.
The wind whips past me, pushing my hair from my forehead and stinging my eyes as we all race to the barn. My reins areloose and I let my horse go at the pace he wants. Austin’s mare inches closer, but my horse refuses to let them get past us.
We all race until we’re reaching the edge of the field and I beat the two of them by a furlong.
“You cheated!” Cash yells, his horse slowing from a gallop into a lope and finally a jog. “You got a head start.”
“Don’t be a sore sport,” I retort, rolling my eyes at him. “I didn’t cheat.”
“Come on, boys,” Austin interjects. “I don’t want to be out here all day, so let’s get this done so we can go get food.”
I hop off my horse, kicking open the gate and my brother rides past me, giving me the middle finger. I give it back to him, before laughter spills from my lips.
Typical Wild brother behavior.
And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Austin leads the way as we walk through the front doors of the restaurant. We end up at Harvest by the base of the mountain and head out to the veranda where they’re serving lunch. One of their hosts seats us at a table on the far side with the best views of the mountain. We sit and order our drinks before browsing the menu.
It doesn’t take either of us long to settle on what we’re ordering and when the server comes back with our drinks, we tell her what we both want. Austin lifts his glass, taking a sip of the mixed drink before washing it down with a gulp of water.
“I wanted to ask you about Vera’s gallery,” I start after following suit and taking a sip of my own drink. It’s strong and burns my throat as the liquor slides down. It’s a little earlier than I’d prefer it to be to drink, but it’s only one.
Austin’s cousin Vera is a world renowned art dealer with one of the biggest galleries in the country, right in the heart of Wyoming. People come from all over the world to see the art she showcases in her gallery.
Vera’s parents divorced at a young age, so half of her time was spent in Silverspur Springs and the other half was in the city.
She stumbled into the art industry after she went to school for sculpting. She was a talented artist herself and her brand originated and grew from the sculptures she created.
Austin and Vera have always been close. Her mother lived with his family for a few years while we were kids, so in a sense, they were more like brother and sister than cousins.
“What’s up?” He questions me, tilting his head to the side. “Are you looking for a painting or something?”
“I’m not,” I say, shaking my head. “Although, I have met an artist I think Vera might be interested in.”
