Page 11 of Wild and Unruly
My brother, who would barely speak to anyone, when he was once my best friend in the entire world and now just…existed.
I picture him in my mind, staring out the window of the apartment he shared with my mother, a blank and hard expression on his face.
He barely left the apartment except to work his nine-to-five job. He didn’t engage with friends or family. His ex-girlfriend, who vowed to stay by his side, was somewhere on the East Coast now, far away from him and leaving him to his own fate.
And honestly, I couldn’t totally blame her. After a year of hertrying, he snapped and yelled at her, begging her to leave him be and let him “rot.”
She left heartbroken, and he pulled himself deeper into his shell.
He needed to get out of the apartment, and God bless her, away from our mother, who worried over him constantly, probably making him feel like he was five years old.
I couldn’t hurt the Trevorses, and I didn’t want to hurt Stetson or any of their friends, but for justice for my brother, I was going to find out what happened, and I was going to find a way to make things right.
The sun was high in the sky the next day when I showed up to talk with Dani and her team again. Today I would get to meet her other cousin and get to see what kind of work she did with her equine therapy. I was more excited than I expected to be.
I park my truck and grab my phone, making sure the recorder is ready, and reach for my hefty camera, stepping out of the truck to strap my harnesses on so it can safely hang at my sides while I work but within easy reach so I can snap some good shots while I was at it.
Heading into the barn, I see a bustle of activity at the gate of their indoor arena and quietly head that way. There’s someone in the barn mucking stalls who waves happily at me before returning their attention to their work.
At the gate stands Dani and Stetson, watching who I assume is Logan, on a horse.
I lift the camera and snap the photo of the family together.
The click of the camera draws Stetson’s attention, and he grins broadly at me before walking away from the gate.
“Hey.” His voice is soft, and I nod my head at him, embarrassed that yesterday I pictured his face to get myself out of a panic attack.
Why did I do that?
“Logan’s mare he’s got is still a little fresh so we’re giving him quiet to work, but you’re welcome to come watch.” He motions me forward, and I make my way to the gate, standing beside Dani. Stetson stays right behind me, and I close my eyes at the close contact, feeling the heat radiate off of his body.
I don’t think he realizes how close we are to each other, and I don’t move away or say anything. I just give Dani a polite smile and turn my attention to the man on the horse.
Man, what did they feed these Cash boys? Logan has the same hard jawline that Stetson does, only his hair is a little longer under his cowboy hat and curled at the ends. His build and Stetsons are almost identical, though, and there’s a shiny metal wedding band on his left hand.
I watch him rub the horse on the neck and gently pull her head to one side, waving his leg on her right and making her turn. Then he lets off pressure, and she stops, keeping her head bent. He rubs her on her head before pushing her forward and turning her the other way.
He’s working on softening her. It’s a technique that I love, growing and building the trust between horse and rider, making the bond stronger and her attention to him more rapt. I watch in fascination at the way he’s treating this horse, with so much patience and kindness that I nearly get emotional.
It’s the way every horse should be treated, and it kills me that it’s not. That there are “trainers” in the world that believebeing rough with their horse is the only way to get them to listen.
“How much do you know about what he’s doing, Bonnie?” Dani asks, nodding toward Logan.
“I know he’s softening her, getting her to trust him. I love this technique.” I cross my arms, watching closely at how gentle he is with her as he starts trotting her around the arena, warming up her muscles.
“Yeah, it’s one of my favorites too. So, have you been around horses long then?” Dani’s question sparks a hint of defensiveness in me, but when I look at her, I don’t see anything but curiosity.
“Yeah, most of my life.”
“What kind of discipline?”
I walked right into that one. “Mostly cutting. A little cow horse. I tried my hand at rodeo for a bit but was told it wasn’t going to cut it.”
Dani hums. “That’s interesting. Sometimes, the stigma between performance horses and rodeo is ridiculous. I’ve never understood what the big deal is.”
“Me either.” I shrug. “It’s all fun.”
“You’ll have to show us your skills while you’re here.” The voice comes from behind me, and I stiffen. Somehow, I’d forgotten he was there.
