Except this wasn’t a movie, and Maverick wasn’t an angsty teen. Well, I guess you could argue he might be a bit angsty, but that was beside the point.
I glanced over my shoulder at Cash. “You’re right. Heislike a fairytale princess.”
Cash’s lips pulled up into a grin, his gaze never leaving Maverick. “It’s crazy, isn’t it? The connection he has with them.”
I nodded. “It doesn’t seem real.”
“It’s real alright,” Mister Mooney added.
We all watched as Maverick took a step back and held out his left arm to gesture across the pen. The filly arched her neck, and for a heart pounding moment I thought she might rear, but with a snort, she started forward in a brisk trot. Maverick clicked his tongue at the horse, the only sound he’d made so far. As if understanding his request, the mare sped up into a gallop, though not quite into the balls-to-the-wall run she’d been at when he’d first gone in.
“So does he speak horse or does the filly speak English?” Goodie asked.
Mister Mooney blew out a puff of smoke. The sweet scent of tobacco enveloping me. I breathed it in deeply, savoring the familiarity of the smell. “Neither the one, nor the other. They don’t speak the same language at all. They just understand one another.” He nodded toward the arena again. “See, watch.”
Maverick lowered his hands then, and stilled in the center of the pen. Even went so far as to drop his head down toward his chest. He didn’t say a word, but it was like the air shifted. I sensed it. Badand Cash and Goodie sensed it as well. Especially the horse, as she stopped in the arena and looked to him—ears forward, harsh lines of her face softening a bit. Maverick took a step to his left, moving out past her head. Taking a step back, she turned around, starting in the other direction at a slow jog.
Maverick clicked his tongue once more, urging her faster. The filly obliged.
Goodie sighed. “I’ll be damned.”
“Likely.” Mister Mooney blew out another puff of smoke and chuckled. “Very likely.”
I watched, in awe, as Maverick worked the filly for a few more minutes, stopping her and turning her around every so often. She was steaming and dripping sweat, but relaxed into the work instead of trying to find a way to get loose and go on a killing spree.
Maverick stilled once more. The horse stopped and walked towards him, meeting him in the middle of the pen. He petted her face for a long moment before turning and walking back towards us.
I’d always thought he was attractive, talented. But fuck…there was something so fucking sexy about what he’d just done. That calm, quiet confidence. It made me think of last night. Of the way everything he’d done had been with purpose and that same, slow surety. A shiver went through me.
“If I turned my back on that pig, she’d put hoofprints on it,” Goodie marveled as he climbed back over the fence toward his charge.
Maverick shook his head, but Mister Mooney’s voice drew our attention. “She ain’t a pig, you're just a dumbass.”
“Well,” Goodie sighed. “You know what they say. If it looks like a pig and acts like a pig, it’s probably a red mare.”
“And what does that make you?” I asked, immediately cupping my hand over my mouth. Shit. I hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Damn my big, fat mouth.
Cash and Mister Mooney burst out laughing. A smile even graced Goodie’s face. Maverick just cast a meaningful glance back at the horse, now sniffing around the pen. After a moment he nodded toward Goodie.
We all frowned. I didn’t know what he was asking. Looking to Cash, I wondered if he understood, but Cash glanced at me and shrugged.
Mister Mooney was the one to speak. “No, you ain’t takin’ on another baby, Maverick. You’ve got Blue Zeus, and Goodie has that red filly. You don’t have time to work ‘em all and I don’t want Blue Zeus endin’ up like this one.”
“Are you suggesting I can’t break a baby?” Goodie demanded from beside Maverick.
“Who got the filly to calm down?” Mister Mooney shot back.
Maverick shook his head once, before lowering his eyes to the ground.
“You think she’s too much horse for your uncle?” Mister Mooney asked. I don’t know how, but he seemed to speak fluentMaverick. I guess it made sense. Maverick lived with them, he probably hadto get good at reading his body language to know what he was thinking, but it was still impressive as hell. Not even Cash could do that.
Maverick nodded before casting an apologetic look at his other uncle.
Goodie dipped his hat. “No, I agree.”
Mister Mooney stomped out his cigarette, a scowl forming on his lips. “I don’t. Goodie’s gotta learn how to communicate with pigs just like Maverick did—” He glanced at his brother, before turning and leveling his nephew with a pointed stare “—and Maverick’s gotta learn to let other people figure some shit out for themselves.”
Maverick looked like he wanted to argue, his dark brows knitting together as his jaw clenched. And I don’t know what came over me, or what the hell possessed me to open my mouth, but there was no stopping it once the words fell from my lips. “I’ll take over.”
