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I giggled. “Very, very true.”

Cole dismounted, ground tying Doobs who patiently stood, once more off in dreamland. “Just trot him out. I’m going to add some poles to the mix first. He is lazy.”

He was. Mack had beautiful extension in the paddock. He’d been given a top rating at his studbook certification as a baby due to movement, but he was lazy as could be for any warmblood.

“You do ground poles?” I asked.

Cole shook his head. “The horse standing there is a trail class machine. I’d love to see you take him out and do some lead changes and ride through the poles.”

I had no idea what he meant.

“I will look like an uncoordinated idiot, but I will do it.”

We worked through transitions, slowly coming off the rail to take poles at a nice trot, then to kick up. I hated how long my stirrups were and that posting like this wasn’t the most pleasant feeling. I felt constantly on edge that I might run into the pommel. As I moved Mack off the wall to start my serpentine, someone shouted at another person down the stall aisle off the connected barn. Mack took off like a shot. He bucked like a bronco and ran as if his feet were on fire.

I stayed on through some magic, channeling the calm built over years of being the kid who would ride anything for funsies. From there, I slowed his mind first at a hand-gallop then down at a not-at-all collected canter. He was now on the wrong lead, barreling around with his head in the air.

“Use your seat to slow him,” Cole said. “And pick his face up. He needs the reminder you’re there for him.”

I knew Cole was right but was out-of-sorts on a horse I’d never ridden, in a weird saddle where I felt my legs were useless—a passenger on what felt like a lurching couch. Still, I slowly collected my reins and pulled him into a nicer canter befitting the six-figure beast he’d hopefully end up being.

“Alright, that looks great. That’s the best canter I’ve seen from him,” Cole said, satisfied. “He’s using his hind well.”

I checked our reflection in the mirrors alongside the arena, pleased with what I saw for the first time.

“He’s good, yeah,” I agreed. “Listening.”

“Okay, really collect him and canter those poles.”

“Canter them?” I asked.

“Yes. And don’t use your hands. Just use your legs to bring him this way.”

I obeyed, pulling Mack off the rail with only my leg. When he responded well, I let him be, pointing him over the poles and bracing for him to stop dead or do something stupid. Instead, he cantered over them and took off like a shot again. Once more, I collected him, sitting deep in the saddle.

“Good, good. He’s feeling himself,” Cole chuckled. “He saved the best for Mom.”

I smiled.

“Let’s do a walk,” Cole said. “Slowly. We can work on those leads another time. I do want to point out that he actually⁠—”

“Switched to the right lead coming up to the poles? Honestly, it’s a good thing. He didn’t lose balance at all, just powered through.”

“Exactly. His spatial awareness is better than I credit him for. It just tells me he’s more capable than he lets on. I like having another rider get up, because they are different for everyone.”

Cole joined me, atop his calm mount. It was hard to believe these horses were born within three months of one another, but oh-so-different. And Doobs still had his manhood!

“Maybe he’s a showjumper?” I said. “He really liked his job there for a minute.”

“You rode that spook well,” Cole admitted. “He is a big horse, and you are a little woman, but you never flinched.”

“My parents are not horsey. I came to the barn desperate for any attention from the horses and staff every day. I would ride literally anything and since I was short until my late teens, I was a favorite for breaking in naughty hunter ponies.”

He snickered. “I refuse to train ponies. I had a POA come through for finishing for showmanship before her all-around days. I did a good job with her, and she went on to win a lot of prize money in her futurities, but she destroyed all the stalls in my parents barn at feeding time. We had to feed her outside or she would kick through a wall. And it wasn’t like she came to me abused. She was just born with an attitude. Thankfully, her owner spoiled her rotten and didn’t care about her foibles. I’d never have fixed her brain completely.”

“I love mares, but I understand. Ponies are the devil. How the hell did you even ride her?”

“I didn’t. I was hired only for showmanship. Her owner wanted to win, and Piper just won at Sun Circuit with her mare. A client connected us somehow. I am not good at everything, but I am a sucker for a good pattern horse.”