Page 17 of Mountain Time
The joke is on Carson though; I’ve been training horses for a long time. I’ll get him calmed down.
I’ll be spending a lot more time around The Diamond Hart Ranch.
And Kacey Hart.
It’s taken me most of the day to fight through the heavy old broodmares. It’s late in the afternoon now—their feet were long, so it wasn’t a fast job. I’m sure the ol’ girls feel a lot better now.
It’s safe to say I’m definitely not going to the gym today, my lower back and legs were starting to shake on that last one. I stand and straighten my back out.
Carson unhooks the crossties. “Well, Champ, I guess now you know why no one likes trimming these mares.” He chuckles, but I can tell I’ve earned a little respect from him. “You’re a go-getter, I’ll give you that much.” He almost cracks a smile and leads the mare toward the barn door.
I’m calling that a win for the day.
“You ready to see what this outlaw is all about?” Kacey announces as she walks up, halter in hand. I lean against a stall, trying to give my legs a break without letting her see how tired I am. “Sure, let me pack up real quick and we can go see him.”
“You probably just want the hell out of here after doing those ol’ nags.” She half laughs but is also serious.
“Ah, they weren’t that bad. At least I never got kicked or bit.” I grin, even though one of them didn’t want me working with her back feet and did in fact try to kick me. I thought she was going to get me a few times.
Out in the round pen is a big, stout, 15.3-hand buckskin colored gelding. He has a wild look in his eye, and I already know he’s going to be a fun one.
“He’ll let you catch him, but he throws a fit if you do much else. Carson’s been working with him on and off since he was two, and I’m pretty sure Chet’s dumbass has been throwing a saddle on him and trying to ride him, although he spends more time in the dirt. Now that he has size to him, he can put up a pretty good fight. Got any bright ideas on how to go about him?” She raises a brow, and I get the feeling this is some kind of test.
“The same way I’ve gone about every horse I’ve trained.” I unlatch the gate and walk in.
I walk up slowly and halter the big three-year-old. I slowly reach toward his forelock, he bobs his head up like he’s going to fly backwards. But after a second, he lowers his head, realizing my hand isn’t that scary and I rub his forehead for a few minutes.
I lead him around the round pen, making sure I do both directions, and walk on each side of him. Most people don’t realize that a horse sees out of each eye separately, so you have to work both sides for them to be comfortable on each side.
Next, I step around him, smooching to him, letting him know to start lunging. He quickly takes off at a lope, hitting the end of my rope but keeping pressure off me.
Okay, so he’s done this before.
I turn him around and he goes the other direction perfectly. After that, I tie him to the big post in the center of the round pen—“the thinking post” I like to call them—and I start patting myhand on his back. He flies backwards, shaking his head when he hits the end of his lead rope.
“Woah, woah,” I say calm, deep, and slow, but loud enough he can hear me. He quits and stands straight. I repeat my same action, but this time I’m moving at a snail’s pace. He jumps a little but doesn’t freak out this time. I do this for the next few minutes, just patting him everywhere. His chest, neck, belly, and rump. After I can pat him anywhere and he doesn’t flinch, I untie him and turn him loose again.
“That’s all you’re doing with him today?” I was so focused on the horse, I completely forgot Kacey was watching. That’s one reason I like training horses—I can tune everything out and focus. I don’t have to talk to anyone. It’s just me and the horse.
“Yep, it’s not a race. I need him to trust me. Once he does that, he’ll want to start learning.”
She smiles. “Sure you don’t just want to cowboy him?”
“I think he’ll learn a lot more a lot faster this way.” I smile back at her, unlatching the gate to leave his pen.
I can’t explain it, but I really want to get to know her better. Yes, she’s beautiful, but there is something else about her I can’t seem to put my finger on. She’s quiet and reserved, but I can tell there is more to her . . . she just won’t let me see it yet.
“Want to go get some dinner? I’m starving.” I blurt without thinking.
“Uh.” Her eyes go wide. I caught her off guard. “I think I’ll take a rain check. I still have some things I need to do around here before I can call it a day. Thanks for the offer, though.” She seems sincere.
I’m slightly relieved at her answer. I didn’t think before asking her. Flirting is one thing, dinner is another. I don’t date, and I don’t want to give her the impression that I do.
I bend to pet the little red dog who just showed up to greet us. Rein had been in and out of the barn all day while I trimmed themares. “Alright, no worries. Bye, Rein. You’re a good girl.” I give her one more pet and her owner a smile before walking to my truck, calling, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” she questions.
“Yeah, tomorrow. I’ve got Buck here to work with.” I can see the moment it clicks in her brain. I’ll be at the ranch almost every day now.
