A Wife in Wyoming (9 page)

Garrett looked at Ford. “The rebirth of the grizzly. Do you think he's in pain?”

“I think he's tired of being treated like an invalid.” Maybe Wyatt regretted turning the ranch over to a bunch of rowdy teenagers. Or, quite possibly, any one of the pressures he worked under on a daily basis could have flared into a crisis. Ford reminded himself to find a few minutes to talk to his older brother, discover if they had a problem.

He heard a chair crash in the dining room.

Make that a problem
besides
the obvious.

Chapter Six

Nate let the rest of the group get ahead of him going up the hill to the barn. He'd been waiting all morning to meet his horse, but he couldn't go running up there like some little kid overjoyed to see Santa Claus.

His sister, Amber, would do just that. At five, she could get excited about the smallest thing—a butterfly in the grass or a bird on a tree limb.

Thinking about her should have made him smile, but he was too worried to smile. Their dad was supposed to hear whether or not he had a job today. If he did, things would be okay for a while. If he didn't...

Nate shivered, even though the sunshine was warm. He didn't know if he could stay here and just wonder if things were all right at home. His mom had made him come, said she really wanted him to take this chance. She'd insisted, so he'd given in.

But he was beginning to wonder if it was a bad idea. Maybe he needed to be at home, in case things got rough.

Then he walked around the corner of the barn and there they were. The horses. Two bays, a chestnut and two buckskins, an Appaloosa and that pretty grulla he'd been talking to before lunch. Kind and patient, every one of them, with their big, dark eyes and soft muzzles, but full of flash and fire, ready to take whoever asked on a race with the wind.

At the corral, Mr. Ford had climbed up on the fence. He sat on the top rail like falling wasn't even an option.

“Take your time,” he was saying. “Talk soft, move easy. Horses react quickly to something that scares them, such as yelling or sharp movements. You want to be careful and calm and then the horse will be, too.”

Lizzie shook her head. “I can't do this. They're too big.”

“Why'd you come if you're so scared?” Thomas rolled his eyes. “You knew there'd be horses.”

“My parents made me, of course.” She looked close to crying. “I didn't want to.”

Miss Caroline stepped next to her. “I'll be right there,” she said. “I'll help you get used to the horse. We won't go any faster than you're comfortable with.”

Lizzie sniffed and shut up.

“There's four of us, so we'll take you into the corral in two groups.” Mr. Ford hopped off the fence. “The gate is over here.”

He stopped in front of the gate and turned to face them again. “Big, important, unforgettable rule right here. Leave a gate the way you found it. When it's closed, make sure—and I mean check two or three times—that you leave it closed. If the horses get loose, we spend hours getting them back. In the middle of the night, if necessary. None of us enjoys it.” He raised his voice to near a yell. “So be sure you close the gate.” When he grinned, everybody understood he was serious, but not mad. “Okay, the first four—let's go meet your ride.”

Marcos, Thomas, Becky and Lizzie went into the corral, leaving Nate outside with Justino and Lena. He moved near the fence to watch the process, see who got which horse. He hoped that no one else was given the one he wanted. The grulla.

Justino and Lena stood beside him, but they were staring at each other and didn't bother Nate. They got in trouble at school for kissing in the locker hall. Now they were holding hands behind Lena's back. Did they think they fooled anybody?

In the corral, Lizzie stood staring at the chestnut, which shone like a polished penny in the afternoon sunshine. Miss Caroline was petting the horse and talking softly, probably trying to ease Lizzie into coming closer. The horse itself couldn't have been much quieter and still be breathing. Nearby, Thomas frowned as he held the rope to one of the buckskins—he'd made fun of Lizzie, but Nate got the feeling he wasn't too comfortable with the idea of riding himself. Marcos looked more relaxed, stroking the neck of a dark bay. It was funny that Becky, with her freckles, got the Appaloosa, which had plenty of brown spots across the white of its hips.

The grulla was standing by herself on the far side of the pen, rear leg cocked and head relaxed, as if she was taking a nap. So far, so good. If they gave her to Lena or Justino, maybe he could convince Mr. Ford or Miss Caroline to let him trade.

Yeah, right.
Like he could make anybody listen. Talking wasn't worth the effort, not with grown-ups. And once you started, you might say the wrong thing. It was safer just to keep quiet.

Mr. Ford left Marcos and came to the gate. “Okay, you three, come on in.”

Justino and Lena jumped and separated, looking guilty. Justino stepped up to open the gate, and Nate followed Lena through. Justino hurried to catch up with his girlfriend, leaving the gate wide open.

“Hold it,” Mr. Ford ordered. “What did you forget?”

Justino and Lena stopped, but obviously didn't have a clue.

“The gate,” Nate said. “You're supposed to close it.”

“Right. Everybody has to be responsible for checking. If somebody you're with forgets, take care of it, or everybody has a problem. Got it?”

Nate went back, pushed the metal gate to the post and made sure it latched, testing it, just in case.

“Great,” Mr. Ford said. “Now let's meet your horses. Justino, yours is the dark buckskin over with Garrett.” He pointed to the far side of the circular corral.

Nate held his breath. The next horse would be Lena's. Would she get the bay or the grulla?

“Lena, your horse is up next to the barn—we call her Calico, even though she's dark brown. And Nate, yours is—”

“Blue Lady,” Nate said, starting toward the grulla.

Mr. Ford came up behind him. “How did you know her name?”

Nate shrugged a shoulder. “She looks blue. Just guessed.”

“We usually call her simply Blue. She's a friendly horse.”

But Nate hardly heard the words. He walked to Blue's head and held out his palm for her to sniff. The hairs on her chin tickled his skin, and he couldn't help but smile. Stroking the other hand along her neck, he felt the warmth of her body through the sleek hair. He loved everything about her—the black stripe down her spine, her dark legs and the one back foot that was white. Beside him, Mr. Ford clipped a lead rope to Blue's halter. “Lead her to a place on the fence, and I'll show you how to tie her up. Then we'll get her bucket, and you can do a little grooming.”

Nate took the rope, though it seemed as if he didn't need it, that Blue would follow him because that was what he wanted her to do. The other animals were standing along the perimeter of the corral, all of them patient and quiet while a bunch of dumb kids figured out which end would bite and which end kicked.

“You strike me as someone familiar with horses,” Mr. Ford said, showing Nate where Blue's bucket hung in the barn. “Did you grow up with them?”

Nate shook his head. “I read.”

“About horses? In that case, you probably know more than I do.” Mr. Ford reached into a bin and brought out some nuggets that smelled like applesauce. “Treats always smooth the process.”

Nate put a horse cookie on the flat of his hand and held it out to Blue, who gently lipped it into her mouth.

Mr. Ford gave Blue a pat. “I'll let you enjoy yourself. Just yell if you have a question.”

Taking a stiff brush out of the bucket, Nate began to brush in short, quick strokes that brought the dirt up out of her hair to be flicked away. Lady Blue got shinier and sleeker the longer he worked. And she stood quietly, flicking her tail at a fly now and then, eyes half-closed as if she enjoyed being groomed. Nate could have spent the rest of the day just brushing
his
horse.

Around the corral, though, things weren't going so well. Thomas's horse kept stepping away from him, probably because he brushed too hard and was in too big of a rush to get done. Mr. Dylan kept trying to calm him down, asking him to be gentler. But Thomas got more frustrated every time the horse moved until finally he threw the brush into the dirt and stomped toward the barn. Throwing the brush upset the horse even more, and Mr. Dylan had to spend time quieting the animal. Then he followed Thomas into the darkness inside the barn.

Marcos's bay horse was standing still, but it had its head up in the air, and its ears were twitching. Its black tail whipped from side to side—not lazily, like Blue's, but the way some people snapped their fingers in irritation. Marcos didn't seem to be doing anything wrong as he brushed the dark brown horse, but Nate had read that a horse would sense your mood and respond in kind. Marcos's impatience with the whole process showed in the way his horse acted.

Beside Nate and Blue, Becky and her Appaloosa seemed to be getting along pretty well. Becky talked to the horse as if it was a human being, which the horse seemed to appreciate. She was even combing the brown-and-white horse's tail, which Nate wasn't sure he would be brave enough to try at this point.

Closest to the barn, Lizzie still acted terrified. Even though Miss Caroline held the chestnut's rope instead of having it tied to the fence, Lizzie barely stood close enough to touch the horse with the brush. The beautiful animal was pretty much ignoring her, anyway, because Miss Caroline was keeping its attention. Lizzie wouldn't go near the rear legs, and she flinched every time the horse moved its head, as if it would reach around and bite her.

Meanwhile, Justino looked bored. He brushed the horse but didn't put much effort into it, so the dirt fell onto the hair again. Lena was a little more energetic and actually seemed to enjoy making her horse shiny.

Thomas slouched out of the barn. His attitude seemed worse, if possible, but he did pick up the brush and return to the horse, which sidled away. So he just stood there with his hands on his hips, shaking his head.

“The horse senses your emotions,” Mr. Dylan said, loud enough for everybody to hear. “And responds honestly. If you're angry or frustrated, the horse gets worried, even scared. That's not going to help bridge the gap between you.”

“Why should I care?” Thomas dropped the brush into the bucket. “In case you didn't notice, we use cars to get around these days. I can already drive. I don't need to ride a stupid horse.”

Mr. Dylan stared at him. “So why are you here?”

“Hell if I know. My parents made me, 'cause
she
talked them into it.” He jerked his head in Miss Caroline's direction. “Said it would be fun. I don't see nothing fun about standing in the dirt trying to brush some stupid horse.”

Nate heard Justino mutter, “Got that right.”

Miss Caroline tied the rope of Lizzie's horse to the fence and headed in Thomas's direction. But Lizzie screeched, “Don't leave me!” and made a grab for Miss Caroline's arm.

The chestnut horse startled at the noise and jerked against its rope, panicked because it couldn't get free.

Next thing Nate knew, all the horses were upset, dancing around on the ends of their ropes, trying to see what was going on all around them, whinnying and tossing their heads. Even Blue Lady seemed worried, and wouldn't stand still. The rest of the kids ran to the center of the corral and stood butt-to-butt, staring at the chaos around them. Except for Lizzie, who covered her face with her hands and cried.

Mr. Ford, Mr. Dylan, Mr. Garrett and Miss Caroline went from one horse to the other, making soothing sounds and petting them, until the animals calmed down. Nate quieted Blue himself, stroking her neck and shoulder until she relaxed. He figured that would be the end of the horse session for the day. Not a terrific way to finish up.

Instead, though, Mr. Ford came to the center of the corral. “Walk slowly to your horses,” he said. “Yes, you, Thomas. Lizzie, you should go back to your horse, too. When you get there, just put your hand on the horse's shoulder. Gently. Stroke the shoulder, the neck. Talk in a low, soft voice. Doesn't matter what you say, just that you say it quietly and calmly.”

Miss Caroline spoke up. “This horse, the one you're touching now, will be your friend for the next couple of months. You can say things to the horse you wouldn't tell anyone else. And the horse will never betray your secret.”

Thomas rolled his eyes, petting his horse like he would an annoying dog. The horse gave a big sigh, as if it wished he would just leave. Lizzie put her fingertips on the chestnut, but the horse probably couldn't even feel her touch. Nate heard some of the other kids talking to their horses, but he couldn't understand the words. He hadn't spoken to Blue—he wasn't sure what he would say. So he just kept stroking her neck on both sides, and her shoulders and along her back, enjoying the shape of her, the way her ribs floated underneath her skin, the roundness of her hips and the firmness of her chest muscles.

“You're sweet,” Nate said softly. “I'm glad you're mine.”

Mr. Dylan came up beside him. “You've done great,” he said. “You and Blue are meant to be together. We'll work with the horses again tomorrow, but for now you can head on out the gate.”

The others were leaving their horses, too. Thomas was the last—he didn't seem as angry as he had before, maybe even a little sorry to walk away. Lizzie, on the other hand, practically ran across to the exit. Standing outside the corral, with the gate securely closed, the kids watched as the grown-ups untied the horses and took off their halters.

And that was when Lizzie should have been scared, because the horses took advantage of their freedom to act up—running around, hopping and bucking, kicking their hind feet into the air. At the far end of the pen, near where Nate had been standing with Blue, Mr. Ford opened another gate. He gave a short whistle, and the horses started trotting toward the opening. Not quite a stampede, but Nate wouldn't have wanted to get in the way. They flowed through the gate and, in the next minute, were galloping across a huge field, so big you almost couldn't see the fence on the other side, with all the grass they could want to eat under their feet. In a couple of minutes, each horse had found its place to graze, some in groups of two or three, some by themselves.