Page 27 of Spur of the Moment
The horse's ears were pinned back as they walked through the rows of pens before he stopped in front of one, swinging the gate open. He led the horse into the pen, closing the gate behind him and unhooking the lead rope, but keeping thehalter fastened. The man climbed through the metal fence before disappearing inside the auction house.
I walked down the aisle in front of me, feeling my throat tighten at the sight of all these horses awaiting an unknown fate. Some would get homes, work on ranches, maybe become some little girl's dream, but some wouldn’t get so lucky.
I knew that lower bids were typically from kill buyers. Some kill buyers would try to resell them privately at a higher price, but most shipped them off to Canada or Mexico for slaughter. Hate was too nice of a word to describe how I felt about them. Growing up with the rescue and knowing too many horror stories, I wished we could own the whole state of Idaho and take them all there for sanctuary.
I wasn’t oblivious to the fact that sometimes, euthanasia was the best route. I never wanted an animal to suffer, but if there was a chance we could help them without letting them go to a kill pen, I wanted to do all I could to make it happen.
My parents had been doing this for years before my brothers and I were born. They started Bottom of the Buckle Horse Rescue after attending their first horse auction and seeing all the malnourished horses going for cheap, knowing what that meant.
My mom had the biggest heart and I liked to think I got that from her. Charlotte Bronson wanted to save them all, and that rubbed off on me growing up when I’d hear my parents arguing after a long trip, my mom heartbroken over the ones left behind. My dad would comfort her, like he always did whenshe was upset. He’d become her punching bag for the emotional toll animal rescue took on her. It was hard, but it was worth it. Saving even one life may seem like such a small act, but to that one life, you were changing their entire world. I couldn’t help but hope that gray horse the man just locked away was on my dad’s list to come home.
In all my life of being around horses, I came to quickly find that you can’t force a horse to do anything. You have to emotionally connect with them, reason with them so they understand why you’re asking them to do something. Horses were more like us than a lot of people might think.
I came up to a pen where a bay filly was nursing on her mother, then made my way to the one beside it to an older chestnut gelding who was basically skin and bones. I set my hands on the metal fencing, emotion swelling as he stood there, looking defeated. I already knew he was on the list. My mom had direct contact to this auction house, and the owner always called her when they got ones like this.
“You’ll be safe soon, buddy,” I whispered to him, his ear twitching as a fly landed on it.
Continuing on my way through the pens, I stopped to admire a palomino mare, her muscles indicating she was most likely used on a ranch most of her life.
“Pretty one, ain’t she?” a male voice said as a figure came up beside me, leaning his elbow on the fence to face me.
“Yep.” I didn’t bother looking at him, hoping he’d take the hint and continue on his way.
“You’d look good riding her.” Though he was talking about the horse, I knew what he was insinuating with the comment. I pushed away from the fence and moved to the other side of the aisle, not giving him the reaction he wanted.
“What’s your name?” Of course, he followed.
I kept my body facing the pen as I looked at him. He was wearing a faded baseball cap, stained jeans, and an old Bud Light shirt.
“Wouldn’t you care to know?”
He flashed a smile that he must’ve thought got him all the ladies. “Wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t.”
Turning back to face the horse in front of me, I grabbed the dusty metal. He took a step closer, my shoulder almost brushing his chest. “That’s not very lady-like, now is it?”
“You’re not being much of a gentleman yourself,” I retorted.
He grabbed the fence above my head, caging me in from the side. I bit the inside of my cheek. “That’s alright, we don’t gotta know each other's names to have a good time.”
Barf in my mouth.
“Back the fuck up.”
Looking to my left, I saw Bailey standing behind the guy, smoke practically coming out of his ears as he took in how the guy had me caged. The man threw his hands up in mock surrender, taking a step back and turning to come face to face with Bailey.
“My bad, man. Didn’t know she was taken.”
Bailey stared him down, his fists flexing at his sides as he clearly tried to contain the rage building inside of him. Not wanting to be a part of it if they made a scene, I turned to my right and headed further down the aisle, dust kicking up behind my boots as I went. I turned the corner, my arms crossed against my chest.
“Lettie, hold up,” I heard Bailey say somewhere behind me.
Ignoring him, I continued walking, seeming interested in the horses I passed.
“Lettie.” He grabbed my elbow, his grip gentle before I shook him off, spinning on him.
“What was that?”
He blinked, shaking his head before gesturing to where we were standing moments ago. “That guy was making you uncomfortable.”
