Page 22 of Cowboy Don't Go

“Call her crazy, but I think she knows exactly what she’s getting into,” he said, chugging his last sip of coffee. “And far be it for me to dissuade her from marrying into the dysfunctional chaos known as the Hardesty clan.”

“But it’s a lovely chaos, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “It definitely is.”

*

After a day split between working on the glamping tent site with Liam, which they’d nearly completed, and training the newly adopted dun mare they’d named Delilah for her long, dark mane, Cooper had watched Ryan work with Kholá as evening crept over the ranch. With days growing shorter and Ryan’s early mornings taken up with football practice for his school team, he’d already made remarkable progress with the filly considering his time with her.

The days spent in quarantine were not wasted on Kholá as Ryan had spent the time earning the horse’s trust. The filly had come with some trust issues, mostly a fear of being struck, and Ryan had worked a lot with her to convince her that she could trust him not to hurt her. All this had to happen before any attempts to train her were possible and, while Ryan had watched Cooper work with the other horses, he’d never seen such a quick study as Shay’s boy. He had a natural affinity for horses and seemed to have some instinctive ability to calm them.

Training a horse from scratch, Cooper had learned long ago from Birdy, his old mentor at the Four Sixes, wasn’t simply about getting them to do what you wanted them to do. It was really about getting them to want to do what you wanted them to do. By the end of quarantine, Kholá was following Ryan around the ring like a puppy. Sure, he had treats, but more than that, she was learning to trust the hand that fed her and began to let go of whatever she’d suffered through at the hands of her previous owner that had sent her on a path to the kill pens.

After watching Cooper working with Delilah to get her over her fear of the rope by brushing it over her everywhere as she would tolerate it, Ryan had gotten Kholá to the point where he could throw the saddle blanket over her back now without spooking her. Next would be the saddle and the cinch. For now, he worked with just the halter. The reins and bit would come later. Ryan wanted the filly to learn the feel of his body on her first and not fear a bit in her mouth. If he could have competed in the Youth Encounter bareback, he would have preferred it. Cooper had to hand it to him, the kid had no fear. But he was enjoying watching Ryan’s training process grow and develop.

After Ryan had put Kholá up and fed her, he lingered in the barn as Cooper groomed Delilah with a curry comb and then cleaned out her hooves. He did this as much for himself as for the horses, who loved getting fussed over. They craved attention that didn’t involve actual riding. They enjoyed the touch and the grooming and even the affection human bonds could bring. So often, horses were viewed as utilitarian animals, born to simply work and earn their keep.

Which was true of ranch horses to a large degree, just as it was true for the humans who worked the ranch. But often forgotten was this simple, extra effort that strengthened the bond between human and horse. And if, as often happened, that quality was lost in the shuffle of everyday labor and busyness, then he was happy to spend a little time after work filling in that void with a little grooming.

He ran a hand over Delilah’s jaw and stroked her soft nose, enjoying the contented quiver of the horse’s skin in response. Delilah’s eyes were half closed with pleasure. “There’s a good girl,” he murmured. He tossed the curry comb at Ryan who caught it handily and dropped it in the bucket beside him.

“You did real good today with Kholá, Ry,” he said. “Your plate’s pretty full these days. How’s school going?”

“Okay.” The word was more of a sigh than an endorsement. Ryan was usually tight-lipped about whatever was going on in his life, but he seemed to be wanting to talk.

“That sounds a little less than enthusiastic.”

“I guess. School sucks.”

“Can you be any more specific?”

“We have check-ins coming up in two days for team sports and I’m failing math. If I do, I can’t play, and if I can’t play, I lose my position on the team.”

“Math, huh? That’s a tough one. How close is your grade to failing?”

“Two points. I have a math test tomorrow and, really, there’s no point. I just can’t do it. So, I’m just gonna fail.”

Cooper put Delilah up in her stall. Ryan had already filled up her water and alfalfa. “I was pretty good at math when I was in school. Maybe I can help you.”

“Nah. I’m just no good at algebra. It probably won’t help.”

“There’s always that chance. But on the other hand, what have you got to lose? And two points? Phhffft! You got this. What’s got you stumped?”

“X,” Ryan said, and laughed. “Basically, X.”

Cooper laughed, too, remembering solving equations in beginning algebra. There was a chalkboard there in the stable they used for keeping track of medications, feedings, etc. and he erased last week’s entries to make space for an equation. “Okay,” he said, putting one on the board. “Let’s see you solve this for X.”

*

That was where Shay found them as she came looking for Ryan a half hour later, huddled together in front of the chalkboard, scribbling equations. Damned if Cooper wasn’t actually teaching Ryan some complicated strategy for solving compound equations—something her son absolutely wouldn’t attempt with her. Because . . . why? Because she was his mom.

But with Cooper, there Ryan was, shoulder to shoulder, his face alight with concentration, solving the equation like a pro. After, the two high-fived each other like bros on the football field.

Shay covered her smile with her fingers, not wanting to break this scene up, but they turned and saw her standing near the doorway, watching. Ryan grinned up at her as he pointed to the equation as if he’d mastered quantum physics.

“I see,” she said, smiling now. “That’s awesome, Ry. I knew you could do it.”

“Cooper just showed me a different way of looking at it.”

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