9. Candice
9
CANDICE
Nathan and I start really working with Brown Sugar a few days after the night he comes over for dinner. She’s ready—she tolerates both of us to a reasonable degree, and she’s done with her quarantine, so I’m slowly introducing her to the rest of the herd. Maggie has already accepted her, which bodes well for the others. I hope that she makes a few friends, too. Jazz Apple and Buckles are fast friends and likely won’t let anyone else into their little group. But Nico is looking for a new buddy after Tiana was adopted last month, and I think his boisterous personality might help Brown Sugar find her feet—hooves, that is.
All in all, we have twenty-two horses at Star Mountain at the moment, though we’ve got space for a few more—if not the actual funds to support them. Some, like Jazz Apple, are just waiting to find their forever home. Others, like Christabel and Wally, will probably spend the rest of their days here. They’re both old and in poor health because of previous mistreatment, and we’re just trying to give them a few more happy years. In truth, I wish Star Mountain had enough money to provide sanctuary to more horses—to the aging, yes, but also to the ones who just wouldn’t benefit from being re-trained and adopted.
Maybe with Nathan’s help, though, I’ll finally be able to earn some money for that. We already have over five thousand followers on the barn’s social media, though I suspect most of them are female fans of Nathan’s, hoping to see more of what he’s up to. There have also been some snide comments about the bar fight he got into left on my most recent post, but I haven’t responded to any of them.
I walk through the stables and over to where Nathan is standing with Brown Sugar. She’s got a halter on for doing some basic groundwork.
“First things first,” I say. “We need to see how she feels about going into the ring. I’m not sure what her level of comfort is at this point.”
“Well, hello to you too, Candice,” Nathan says.
“We’re training horses, not serving tea. It doesn’t matter if I say hello or not.” I fight the urge to flip him off as I say this.
“If we’re going to work together, then some common courtesy would be nice.”
“Oh? Really?” I say, crossing my arms. “Just like the common courtesy you’ve shown me every time we’ve interacted?”
“Hey,” he says, stepping away from Brown Sugar and towards me, “I didn’t start this. You did.”
“Excuse me? Are you fucking insane?” I say, because honestly.
“The first time we met, you treated me like dirt on the bottom of your shoe for no good reason.”
“Nathan, are you having a stroke? Because that is not what happened.”
Before Nathan can respond, Brown Sugar jerks her head up and I say, “Let’s go. We’re going to make her anxious if we keep fighting.”
“Well it’s impossible not to fight with you when you’re rude as hell all the time.” He grinds his teeth as he says this, and it makes me smile. “I’m pretty sure we won’t get anywhere training together if you’re constantly attacking me.”
“And I’m pretty sure you won’t learn anything from me if you keep expecting me to be like one of the many simpering fools who fall over themselves just to have the honor of polishing that ridiculous championship belt buckle with their tongue. Now, let’s go.”
Nathan looks like he doesn’t have a comeback to that, thank God, so we head over to the ring where I do groundwork and train all of our horses. Immediately, Brown Sugar blanches at the sight of the unfamiliar building. She stops dead in front of it, and refuses to follow Nathan inside.
“I guess she’s a bit more nervous than we thought,” Nathan says. His voice carries a note of sadness in it, and to my surprise, he doesn’t pull at her halter and try to tug her forward. He just stops and starts petting her on her neck and telling her it’s alright. “The ring isn’t scary, Brownie, I promise,” he says.
“I’ll go get Maggie,” I say. When he shoots me a quizzical look, I explain. “She’s already met Maggie and likes her, and Maggie is confident and calm. A lightning strike wouldn’t shake her. If Brown Sugar sees Maggie go into the ring, she’s more likely to know it’s safe. And having Maggie around for training will help, too.”
I head back to the barn, grab a halter, and bring it with me to Maggie’s paddock. She’s munching on a bit of hay and I feel a bit bad for taking my girl away from her food. But I give her a treat from my pocket, and like always, she’s happy to do whatever I ask.
“We’ve got a nervous one on our hands, Mags,” I say softly, leading her towards the ring. “You need to show her how it’s done, and that everything is okay.”
I bring Maggie up to where Nathan and Brown Sugar are standing, and Brown Sugar immediately greets my horse, which melts my heart. I love watching the horses at Star Mountain make friends.
“Maggie is beautiful, Candice,” Nathan tells me. “Where’d you find her?”
I push a bit of Maggie’s mane away from her neck. Nathan takes in the numbers etched there and understanding dawns on his face.
“She’s a mustang,” he says.
“Yep. She must have been at a holding facility at some point, but she got loose. The owners of the ranch she was running around called Grandpa and we went to go get her, and immediately decided we wanted to adopt her. She was skinny, and scared, and completely unsure of herself at first, but I worked with her until she got her confidence back.”
“Are there any other mustangs here?” he asks me.
“We’ve got a few. Buckles is a mustang who was in a wild horse race at a local rodeo a few months ago and he was injured…” I trail off, unsure of how Nathan is going to take this, especially after our conversation about barrel racers.
“I don’t like that event,” he says quietly. “I know it’s traditional and has a long history, but if someone treated Ballantine the way those horses get treated I’d skin them alive.”
“Good,” I say, nodding, and forcing myself to meet his gaze.
“Found something we agree on, I guess,” Nathan says, that charming smile of his stretching across his face.
I avert my eyes—I’m not interested in the charming version of Nathan. It’s too dangerous.
“Let’s see if Brown Sugar will follow Maggie’s lead,” I say.
“Sure thing.”
I lead Maggie into the ring, and Nathan follows behind me. I don’t turn around or try to see what happens, wanting to project total confidence. I park Maggie near the back of the ring, and when I finally do turn, I see that Brown Sugar has just the tip of her muzzle through the doorway. Nathan drops the halter and after a few moments she starts walking forward by herself, evidently more concerned with making friends with Maggie than with her persistent fear of the ring.
“Are we going to lunge?” Nathan asks when he reaches me.
“No, not yet," I say. “All Brown Sugar knows right now is go, and go fast. That’s what barrel racers are trained for. If we try to lunge her, I think she’ll just zoom in circles around us. For the moment, I just want you to work on getting her to back up and then walk forward.” I pass him the long training stick I keep in the arena. “Just use it to get her attention. Light taps?—”
“I’m not going to whip her, Jesus Christ, Candice.” Nathan’s smile disappears from his face, like storm clouds rolling over the horizon.
“Well, good,” I say, though I feel a twinge of guilt for being such a micromanager.
Nathan says nothing else, so I start talking him through the exercise, explaining how to hold his body next to hers, and how to guide her with the training stick.
“We use rewards training here,” I explain. “I give them a small treat every time they get something right. And try to stay calm. As calm as you are with Bally.”
Nathan pats the front pocket of his shirt. “I’ve got a few carrot rounds in here,” he says. “And I’m always calm.”
Nathan starts asking her to back up, but Brown Sugar holds herself high and on alert, with tension in her face and eyes, and doesn’t respond immediately to Nathan’s guidance. He’s gentle with her, but she doesn’t trust him. Not yet anyways. I can tell that he’s disappointed, but that’s life. Horses heal at the rate they need to, and sometimes it takes a while.
After about fifteen minutes of work, I pause our session.
“That was really good,” I tell him.
“Was it?” His voice is slightly bitter, and Brown Sugar flicks her ears towards him, zeroing in on the energy that he’s giving off.
“Really, Nathan. I mean it. You’re doing everything right, she’s just very nervous right now. We’ll do more here tomorrow. But for the next hour or so, why don’t you just walk her around the property? Let her sniff and explore anything she seems interested in, too.”
“To teach her that not everything has to be go, go, go all of the time?” he says.
“Exactly.” I can’t help it—I actually flash him a smile as I say it.
He’s surprised me by getting it so quickly. Not every rider does, especially not if they’ve been focused on competing for so long.
“See, Viper? That wasn’t so hard, now was it?” Nathan says.
“What?”
“Playing nice with me.”
And just like that, my good mood sours. I pick up Maggie’s lead line, and walk out of the ring with her without another word.