14. Lettie
Lettie
A fter parking in the dirt lot, we headed inside the auction house.
The building looked like an oversized old barn from the outside.
Saddles were stacked on racks directly inside the doors, and as we continued on our way, halters of every color, bits, stirrups, and spurs lined the rows of tables.
Behind the tables were wooden bleachers that formed a U around the dirt sales ring, which had a tall structure on the other side of it that looked sort of like a lookout tower.
There were large openings on either side of it, and through them, I could see horses corralled in small pens outside, people walking about as they viewed them.
We approached the long line of people waiting to get their bidding numbers from the elderly lady at the window.
“I’m going to go out back while you get our number,” I said to Bailey.
He surveyed the crowd before looking down at me. “Just be careful, alright? I’ll come find you after.”
“No promises,” I said with a wink.
He rolled his eyes as I turned to walk down the narrow hallway, squeezing against the wall when people brushed by to avoid shoulders clashing. I blinked against the sun when I made it out of the dimly-lit hall, walking down the ramp beside the building.
A few feet away, a man gripped a lead rope, pulling it to try to encourage the horse attached to it to walk.
Seeing that he was clearly struggling, I approached with caution before swinging my arms up, clicking my tongue.
The horse eyed me before stepping a few feet to the side, tossing his head up in the air and swishing his gray tail.
“Be careful, little lady, he’s a wild one.”
Ignoring the name, I swung my arm closest to the horse's rear, clicking my tongue again. After a few tries, the horse took my direction and stepped forward, lowering his head slightly, his flea-bitten coat taut over his muscles as the man took advantage and led him away.
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 the halter 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 when she 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.”
“I had it handled.”
“Sure looked like it.”
I pursed my lips together and turned on my heel, but before I could walk away, he grabbed my elbow again. “I’m sorry. I just, I saw that look on your face and-”
“I don’t need saving.” I whirled on him, but he didn’t flinch.
“I’m just looking out for you, Lettie.”
My fingers dug into my arms as I stared at him. “Well, I don’t need that, either.”
He dropped his hand, pulling his hat off and running a hand through his hair. “It’s hard not to overstep around you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? ”
He set the cowboy hat back on his head, then grabbed the fence beside him.
“It means my whole life, I’ve watched you whither under your brothers’ concern for you.
I’ve seen the way you tense when you think someone sees something wrong, or the look on your face when your parents tell you that you can’t do some reckless shit they wouldn’t think twice about letting your brothers do.
I’ve had to tiptoe around my feelings for you since we were kids.
Every time I worry about you, I have to hide it, Lettie, and even more so since you got back, because I’m scared that if you see it written on my face, you’ll disappear again. ”
I dropped my hands to my sides, gnawing on the inside of my cheek. He was right. He was the only one who didn’t try to shelter me, and he paid the most for it when I left. It wasn’t fair to him.
“I’m sorry.” All I could do was apologize.
He looked down at his boots, dropping his hand from the fence. “You don’t have to be sorry.”
“I am, Bailey. I’m sorry I made you feel like you couldn’t care about me.”
He looked back up at me, his green eyes full of emotions he’d been holding captive since I got back. But I knew he wouldn’t voice them because of the fear I had instilled in him. This was the same way he’d looked at me when I’d made the decision to leave and not say a word.
“Even if you push me away, Lettie, I’ll always care about you. ”
“I know.” And he’d proved that the moment he’d caught me from falling off that ladder.
He visibly swallowed and his expression changed in a flash, a slight smile spreading on his face. “Let’s go save some horses.”
I gave a closed-lip smile, thankful he didn’t push the subject further.