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“Okay.” Pete pulled his phone. “Hey, you still got Strawberry saddled? Good. Why don’t you come across the road? Wiz is ready for her first ride out of the arena. Uh huh. Yep. Good.” He slid the phone back into his coat pocket. “He’ll be here in a few.” Pete held up a finger. “Now, the only thing different about riding out there is staying alert. You can’t drift off into a trance. You have to be looking for things that will injure or startle a horse. Big holes in the path, downed trees, deer running, dogs that don’t know horses, and people. Or a branch or tumbleweed. Or a plastic shopping bag—those things are the worst. Any little thing can startle a horse. Or nothing. You have to be ready for that, or you end up walking.” Pete chuckled. “Or not walking, if you’re dumb enough to ride in city boots.” He raised his voice.
Tom stopped Strawberry near the arena gate. “Thanks, Dad. Appreciate you reminding me. Again.” Tom’s low voice rumbled with self-depreciating amusement. He looked so natural sitting on a horse. Big, confident, with an easy smile and his eyes slightly wrinkled from the sun. Unlike Pete, he wore a fleece beanie, not a cowboy hat, but a similar tan jacket and jeans. He sidled his horse next to the gate and opened it.
On her horse, she could meet his gaze. Almost an equal in physical power, it gave her the confidence to face him. Although her late-night phone call still made embarrassment burn through her. Good thing her skin was dark and the cold already pinked her cheeks.
“Sure, son. Anytime.” Pete winked at Wiz, then turned his horse and walked across the paddock. Rusty ran ahead, nose to the ground, turning back to Pete every fifty feet.
Wiz lifted the reins and squeezed her thighs, and Brownie plodded ahead, following. Tom rode up beside her on Strawberry. From her sidling and shifting, she wasn’t very happy. Tom didn’t seem to have any trouble controlling her or keeping his seat. Brownie ignored the fractious mare. Wiz wanted to watch Tom but paid attention to her horse and the path.
They rode in silence for a while, along the pasture fence, crunching through the snow. Strawberry eventually settled down, seemingly resigned to her fate. Wiz relaxed into the slow walk, enjoying the sun on her face, the brisk breeze, and the crisp scent of snow.
“You look pretty good up there for a newbie.” Tom patted Strawberry’s neck.
“Thanks. Your dad is an excellent teacher.”
“He’s had lots of practice. Taught me, my brother and sister, their kids when they come out, the neighbor kids, just about anybody. I think it’s one of his favorite things to do.”
“Lucky me.” She was extremely fortunate to have so much help.
Pete circled back, bringing his horse on Brownie’s other side. “You’re not too cold, are you? I know you didn’t plan for the outside.”
“No, I’m fine. It’s a nice day, and the sun is warm.” She always wore gloves, and the arena was often colder than outside, since the sun was too weak in the winter to heat it.
“Oh, so I’m not the only one who wasn’t told about this outing?” Tom chuckled.
“Nope.” Pete smiled. “I didn’t plan it, but I figured you needed to get Strawberry there out with other horses, and Wiz was ready.”
Tom raised his brows. “Uh huh. Pull the other one, Dad.”
Pete grinned. “It wasn’t planned until you told me you were going to ride Strawberry. She does need the work, or we’ll never get rid of her.”
“You’re going to get rid of her?” Wiz was shocked; she didn’t think Pete would ditch a horse.
Pete slashed his hand through the air. “Oh, not that way.” He frowned. “You should know I’d never do that.”
Wiz swallowed hard. She knew better. “Sorry.”
Pete kept talking. “We’ll find a kid who needs a horse for 4H or show. Strawberry needs some manners first, though, and she’ll never be a good beginner horse. But she’s perfect for somebody who has progressed and is serious about riding, someone who wants to work with horses. She’ll teach the right person some good lessons about control. Probably a girl, with the coloring. No boy is going to want a pretty palomino.”
“Maybe. Might find the right boy.” Tom shrugged.
Pete snorted. “Not who will admit it around here. Still too backwards sometimes.”
“Maybe, maybe not. Anyway, we’ll have to talk to the folks who work with kids.”
“Yep.”
They rode in silence again, turning to cross the back end of the field. Strawberry tried to shy at the fence, but Tom wasn’t having any of it.
Pete pulled his hat down. “The family I got her from, well, the girl had gotten her to show in the ring, and they’d bought her just for looks. They didn’t know anything about horses. So, she’s been spoiled and lazy because she really couldn’t be ridden safely. Then the family had to move, and they couldn’t find anyone to buy her, so I ended up with her. But she’s too nervy to be a good cow horse.” Pete chuckled. “By the time we get done, she’ll be grateful to be ridden by some kid half of Tom’s weight.”
They turned back toward the arena. A small herd of deer looked up as they approached and leapt over the fence, bounding away. Rusty chased them for a hundred yards, then ran back. Brownie just snorted, and even Strawberry stopped only momentarily.
“Now, you see what Tom did there? He saw the deer and knew Strawberry would try to shy, so he tightened up a bit to let her know ahead of time that she wasn’t going to get away with it.” Pete nodded firmly. “Proactive. That’s how you have to ride.”
They neared the arena. Pete pointed. “Wiz, did you leave anything in there?”
“No.” She hadn’t brought anything except what she wore.
