Chapter 5 #2
“Then, you’re going to scrape out all the dirt around here, and down in this groove. Just be careful of this triangular part in the middle here. That’s the frog, and it’s sensitive.”
The frog? He’s gotta be fucking with me. I’m looking that up later.
He moves, repeating the process on her hind leg.
“The hind legs are a little harder, but Flash is a good girl. She won’t cause you any trouble.
” Flash is standing there in the most awkward-looking position, with her back leg hiked up, but she really doesn’t seem bothered.
In fact, when I glance toward her front end, her head is drooping between the ropes holding her in place, long lashes blinking sleepily.
He finishes up and hands me the hoof pick, leading me over to her other side.
Butterflies form a swarm in my stomach, but I move in beside her, sliding one hand down her leg like he showed me. She obediently lifts her leg, but I’m so surprised I drop it the first time.
“Just get a good hold on it.”
He steps in closer, but I wave him off. “I got this.”
Second time’s the charm, and I try to copy what he did on the other side, digging the dirt out with the metal hook and staying away from the frog (what a stupid name for a part of a horse’s foot).
Quint makes gentle corrections and offers pointers, and I’m feeling pretty good about the job I’ve done.
Until it’s time to move to the back foot.
That end definitely looks more dangerous to me.
I take a breath and slide my hand down her leg, channeling Willow Sterling.
Willow Sterling isn’t afraid of horse feet. She cleans horse feet all the time.
At first it goes okay. She lifts up like she did for the front one, but then her tail comes whipping around, lashing me in the face like a whip, and I squeal, releasing the leg and jumping away.
I look up to see Quint struggling not to laugh at me.
“What are you laughing at? That hurt.”
He shakes his head. “Nothing. Try one more time, and then we’ll take her out for a graze before lunch.”
I blow my cheeks out, steeling myself to get back in there while my heart pounds. There’s no further incident on the second try, and I straighten up, stepping away from her. The relief I feel is almost as tangible as the sting on my skin from Flash’s tail.
“Good job,” he tells me, and it sounds like he means it. “I’m just gonna put this back in the tack room, and we can head outside. It’s a beautiful day to bask in the sunlight.”
I reach up to rub a hand down my cheek. My lotion has SPF 45 in it, so I’m covered.
He pulls a red cotton rope off the stall door, turns around and starts to laugh.
“What?” I ask with a frown.
He reaches a hand up, pulls it back and waves it at his own cheek. “You’ve a got a little dirt.”
Heat crawls up my neck, and I reach up to swipe at my cheek, but he shakes his head.
“I’ll grab something. Give me a sec.”
I turn to the horse. “Seriously?” But she just tosses her head and opens her mouth up to show me a wild set of yellow teeth. “Are you laughing at me too? Figures.”
“You talking to her now?” Quint steps beside me, brandishing a wet wipe.
“No.”
“It’s a good thing. I wasn’t criticizing.” He holds out the wipe.
I snag it, our fingers brushing in the transfer, and that little zip of electricity travels up my arm. And again, I curse my past self for choosing the hottest cowboy in Canada, possibly North America, to be my riding instructor.
While I’m wiping the dirt off my face, he snaps the lead rope under Flash’s chin before unsnapping the side ropes. Crossties, he called them. I’m going to have to research all the horse terms before the crew gets here. That is, if I can get the riding part solid enough to keep the role.
He explains how to lead a horse, one hand under her chin, one farther down the rope, but not looped around my hand. There are so many rules to follow. Good thing I’m used to that.
“What do I do now?” I ask once my hands are properly positioned on the rope.
“Just walk. Follow me, and she’ll come along.”
I twist my neck and side-eye Flash. It can’t be that easy.
“They’re just like giant dogs,” he says.
“Not reassuring. I’ve seen what some dogs do to their owners.”
“True. Some horses are like that too. Whether they’ve been poorly trained, they’re young, or they’ve been mistreated.
That’s why you always have to be careful around unfamiliar horses.
But Flash has been around the trail more than a few times.
She’s a sweetheart. You’ve got nothing to worry about with her. ”
Okay, then. Quint turns and walks down the aisle, and I take a step forward. Damn it if he isn’t right and the horse follows along beside me, head gently bobbing.
Until we get through the big open door. My arm is jerked forward and a burning pain sears my palm as the rope runs along it with force. I hiss in a sharp breath.
Quint takes the rope from me. “You okay?”
“Fine.” I inspect my palm, but the burn is already subsiding.
“Flash, bad girl. You’re supposed to wait.” His words are scolding but his tone is gentle. He hands the rope back to me. “Now you can hold her while she grazes. Let her eat away to her heart’s content. Move around with her. Give her slack, but don’t let the lead get tangled or under her feet.”
“Sounds super relaxing.” I’m on high alert, watching the rope, watching the horse, watching where I’m standing.
He doesn’t seem to catch my sarcasm, tilting his head up to let the sun shine on his face. It paints him in a beautiful light, highlighting those sculpted cheekbones and the nose that might be a little too large on another man but suits him just perfectly.
The horse is munching away at the grass, ripping it from the ground with soft tearing noises.
Quint rolls up the sleeves of his button-up shirt, then steps in to lean on the horse’s back.
She doesn’t even lift her head at the pressure.
But I can’t stop looking at those forearms, tanned from the sun, not from a tanning bed, pronounced veins running over the muscles.
The sun beats down on us, and a handful of people move about the fields and the larger barn to our left, but no one bothers us.
No one walks up to ask for an autograph or shoves a camera in my face, and slowly the tension seeps out of my body.
There’s still a manure smell lingering in the air, but it’s not as pungent out in the wide-open space.
But it’s the lack of noise that’s really stark.
There are no cars honking, people yelling, or sirens blaring.
Instead, all I can hear are birds singing their unique tunes, the horse munching, and the occasional stomp of a hoof.
Blissful, serene, strange. Like I’ve landed on another planet, or another timeline at the very least.
After a time, Quint straightens up. “We should probably be getting her back in. It’s about time to head in for lunch and then, like I said, I’ve got things to do around here. Not all of us have that Hollywood money to fall back on.”
Spell broken. “It’s not all fun and games, you know. And if I can’t keep this job, that’s going to have to last me the rest of my life.”
He purses his lips. “I didn’t mean to insult you. I was just commenting.”
“Yeah, you and everybody else.”
I gather up the lead line, pulling at the horse’s head, but she ignores me, continuing to devour the lawn. Excellent for my grand plan of storming off.
“Hey, hey, sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”
He steps toward me with his hands up and palms facing me, getting closer as I yank at the horse, trying to get her to lift her head from her feast.
“Hey, let me just help you there.”
I frown, shoulders sinking in defeat. “I thought you said she was obedient.”
“Generally, I’d say she is. But when it comes to fresh grass and sunshine, she can be a little stubborn. Can you blame her?”
“Guess not.” I’ve spent enough of my life watching what I eat to fit someone else’s expectations about what looks good onscreen to sympathize with the desire for a tasty snack.
Quint steps in closer until the toe of his worn cowboy boot brushes my ridiculously shiny brand new one that is in fact rubbing my heel something fierce—not that I’ll ever admit it to him—and his fingers brush mine as he wraps them around the lead rope.
As soon as he has a hold on it, I take a hasty step back.
“Come on, girl,” he says with a gentle tug on the rope. He makes a clucking sound with his tongue, and the horse lifts her head up.
“That easy, huh?” I ask.
“Don’t take it personally. We go way back.
” Then his lips curve into a smile and years of memories flash across his face.
There’s something about his smile that’s captivating.
When he’s looking at the horse as the sun shines down, it’s a screen-worthy moment, and I can feel it.
That little tingle I get when I have the opportunity to do a project that’s going to take off.
This place, the actors, the showrunner. It has all the ingredients.
This could very well be my ultimate comeback. My best role yet.