Page 13 of Rolling Thunder

It was late afternoon. The sun was losing its bone-melting intensity when she heard his bike rumble to a stop at her gate. She met him in her driveway, expecting a moment of awkwardness. Should she kiss him hello? Were they a thing? She didn’t know.

“Hey,” she said with a quick smile. He had a black bandanna pulled down on his forehead above dark shades, but she saw his slow smile return hers, and he jerked his head subtly to tell her to get on. His charisma wrapped around her and erased her unease.

“So, I had a different idea,” she unlocked her gate and swung it open. His eyebrows went up, but he rolled the bike in and leaned it over onto its kickstand. “Let’s take a different kind of ride.”

“I like that sound of that,” he said, and she shot him a look that she hoped did Bonnie justice. He just grinned at her, not to be as easily intimidated as Clyde. Still, she hoped by putting Evan in her territory, she’d feel more in control. Bonnie and Clyde hadn’t been ridden that day and it was in her best interest to keep them ridden regularly so that they would be calm for the tourists. Like Monty, most horses got fat, spunky, and out of practice when they sat in a pasture too long.

She motioned for him to follow her down the driveway, where she had Bonnie and Clyde saddled and tied, waiting.

“Now, do these horses have rabies like that other one?” he asked dubiously, and she laughed.

“I’m quite sure they don’t. They’re very trustworthy. I put all my beginners on them.” He walked up to Clyde and rubbed his neck experimentally. Clyde nuzzled him.

“What are their names?”

“Bonnie and Clyde.”

“Oh sure, they’re named after violent criminals.”

She chuckled. “I’m pretty sure people die on motorcycles more than they do on horses. You’ll survive. Ready?”

“No?” he replied suspiciously. She led Bonnie up to a wooden mounting step, which had been there for at least twenty years since Canyon Bill had built it for her grandmother.

“Just lead him up to the step here, left foot in the stirrup.” She demonstrated, climbing the step so that it was easy to reach the stirrup on her side of the horse and swing over. She moved Bonnie a few feet so that there was room for Evan to bring Clyde to the mounting block. Evan managed to get himself on the horse without much problem.

“So, you just pull back gently on the reins to stop, or squeeze gently with your legs to go forward. Don’t do anything drastic. They know what to do. Plus, he’s in love with Bonnie, and he’ll want to have his head up her ass the whole time.”

“So, all men are the same, huh?”

“They really are,” she replied, laughing. Clyde tossed his head impatiently and sidestepped.

“Why is he doing that? Does he want to kill me?”

“No, he just doesn’t know what you want. You’re pulling on him, telling him to stop, but he’s already stopped. Just let your reins out. He’ll follow Bonnie.” Evan relaxed his death grip on the reins, and Clyde moved closer to Bonnie.

“Ready?”

“To die?”

She laughed. “I don’t want you dead. Neither does Clyde. Relax.” She urged Bonnie to walk off, and Clyde immediately followed.

“So he just does whatever she tells him to do?” Evan asked from behind her.

“Yep.”

“Not much for balls, huh?”

“No, he’s a gelding. Means he’s castrated.”

A strangled sound came from behind her. “Why would they do that to him?”

“Same reason we neuter dogs. Makes them easier to handle.”

Evan petted Clyde’s neck sympathetically. “Sorry, buddy.”

“The cattle guys have a saying…they castrate the bulls being raised for slaughter so they think about grass, not ass.”

Evan laughed. “Damn. You ranch girls are…different.”

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