Page 8 of Ace of Spades
WESTON
“Did you try using a different bit?” Chance calls out from where he’s perched on the arena rail.
“Yes,” I tell him, pulling the gelding beneath me into a tight circle to prevent the little fucker from trying to buck me off again.
“Try pulling his nose to your boot!” Chance suggests.
“Do you want to get on and try?” I snap.
“Hell no, that horse is the devil.”
“Says the man who rides bulls for a living,” Rafe cuts in, strolling over to the rail beside Chance.
“Oh, I know! How about recommending they sell the horse to theglue factory?”
I roll my eyes at Chance, changing directions and spinning the gelding beneath me as he tries to take off once more.
“Can I give him a go?” Rafe asks.
Rafe and I were the two resident horse trainers at Hidden Creek Ranch, both of us having been riding since we were old enough to walk. If there was ever a horse that neither one of us could figure out, that’s typically when we’d deem it a lost hope. There was something about this gelding though, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. He had outstanding ground manners, and clearly knew what he was doing under the saddle—he just had a temperament unlike any other.
“Have at it,” I tell him, hopping out of the saddle and leading the little grey horse to two of the other co-owners of this ranch as Rafe hops over the railing.
He barely has a foot in the stirrup before the horse spooks, sitting on his hind quarters and pulling back.
“Do Clint and Rina hate their daughter or something? Cause that’s the kinda horse I’d only gift to my worst enemy,” Chance comments from beside me. I give him an unimpressed look, turning my attention back to Rafe as he tries to work the gelding. Looking from the outside, I try to get a better picture of what’s going on. I take in all of the non-verbal cues that the horse is giving us, noticing something that I hadn’t before.
“Hey, Rafe—bring him over here real quick,” I call out, squatting on my haunches to remove my spurs.
I’m slow to get back in the saddle, taking my time with it until I’m comfortably in my seat. Instead of nudging my spurs into him, I only use the slight pressure in my legs to nudge himforward, the gelding breathing heavily through his nose as he advances.
I walk him in slow circles, turning him to the right with a slight squeeze from my inside leg before doing the same in the other direction, and then nudging him into a lope.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the horse whisperer of Hidden Creek Ranch!” Chance exclaims.
“Looks like their daughter was a little too spur-happy,” Rafe adds, trudging through the sand towards us as I pull the gelding up beside him and Chance.
“Yeah, and she’s not gonna love it when I tell her she can’t use them anymore,” I tell him.
“I’ll deal with them if they give you any shit.”
“I’m not worried about it.”
“Yeah, 'cause Sophie is practically in love with you,” Chance comments.
“Twelve-year-old girls aren’t my type.”
“She doesn’t need to be, as long as you keep her parents giving us paychecks.”
“He’s not a bad little gelding,” I admit, disregarding Chance’s comments. “Wouldn’t mind keeping him for myself. She wants him as a starter barrel horse but he’s definitely a cowy little dude. He’s got the cutting gene in him somewhere.”
“Mind if I feel him out?” Rafe asks.
“All yours,” I tell him, hopping out of the saddle as Rafe removes his spurs and takes my place. He spins the gelding beneath him a few times in the same manner that I did, using solely his legs to guide the horse.
“You see what I’m sayin'?” I ask.
“He’s gonna be a good one for sure. Shame we can’t keep him on as a ranch horse.”
