15. Beau
fifteen
Beau
It’s early afternoon, my T-shirt is damp with sweat, and Ollie shadows me while I groom the horses.
We drove up to Santa Rosa over the weekend, and after wandering around a store for ten minutes, a sales assistant helped us pick out new jeans, shirts, and boots for Ollie, as well as shorts and sweatpants for time off and sleep.
It cost me more than I thought it would, but the card didn’t decline, and I owe Daisy for helping me out with no questions asked.
Might have been better if she did give me a hard time, or at least made a smart comment. I’d feel less like a charity case and more like someone she wants to spar with. Her equal. Then I remember I’m not.
Once I’ve finished brushing Mabel’s coat and picked over his hooves, I turn to Ollie, who’s brandishing his brush beside me, and plant my hands on my hips.
“Okay, buddy. You’ve proved yourself an excellent horseman this week. I think it’s time you helped tack up.”
Ollie’s brown eyes brighten, and I meet his excitement with a grin. The way he’s taken to the horses makes me proud. He’s quiet and serious most of the time, but when he does speak up, his questions are sharp. And I was right about him being a natural.
“Really?” he says.
“You bet. Daisy’s niece, Izzy, is going for a ride with her aunt this afternoon, so we need to get Mabel and Chardonneigh ready. Think you can handle that?”
“Yes!” he says. “When do we start?”
“Right now.”
Ollie sticks to my side while I lead Mabel out of his stall and into the open air, where I secure him to a tie rail. I retrieved the tack earlier, and I pick up the saddle pad.
“Always tack up from the left side—or the near side,” I say.
“Why?”
“That’s just the way it’s done. Now watch closely.” I heft the pad in my hands. “This is the saddle pad. It collects sweat and prevents rubbing while riding.”
Ollie nods, eyes trained and mouth serious, and I hide my smile as I throw the pad over Mabel’s back, follow with a half pad, and then pick up the saddle.
“Settle this on top and adjust until it’s in the right place.” I heave the saddle onto Mabel’s body, then push it farther down the gelding’s back. Next, I tug on the saddle pad above the withers. “Allow at least three fingers here. Or in your case, a whole hand.”
I slip my hands under Ollie’s arms and lift him so he can see what I mean, and he puts his hand under the edge of the saddle pad to check the fit.
“Looks good,” he approves.
I set him down and pick up the girth. “This is Mabel’s belt,” I explain. “Watch closely how I attach it to the saddle.”
Ollie lifts onto his toes to study the way I snap and loop the leather strap, then shadows me to the other side, where he helps me finish buckling the girth. I test the give in it.
“You want room for the shoulder to move here,” I tell him. “And space for the horse to breathe.”
“Got it.”
“And you want to check this again before you ride,” I add.
Ollie pays close attention as I replace Mabel’s halter with a bridle, looping the reins over his neck and gently slipping the bit into his mouth.
I watch as Ollie buckles the throat lash, and I show him how to check the give.
Mabel tosses his head while I do up the nose band, and I move Ollie back to keep him out of the way.
“So,” I say when we’re done, “think you can remember all that?”
“Yes!”
“All right. Let’s try again with Chardonneigh.”
We’re finishing a final check when Daisy steps into the lot. She’s in her usual jeans, boots and braid, holding the hand of a little girl with dark hair. Izzy’s wearing breeches and tall boots, and she balances a riding helmet between her arm and her hip.
They approach easily, Daisy lengthening her stride when her niece skips ahead.
“Hello,” the girl says, pulling to a dusty stop in front of Ollie. “I’m Izzy and I’m seven. Who are you?”
My nephew shuffles closer to me, and I give him a gentle nudge with my elbow.
“I’m Ollie,” he answers. “And I’m ten.”
Izzy grins. “Pleased to meet you, Ollie.”
Daisy’s quiet, and I squint up at the midafternoon sky, then wipe the sweat from my face with the back of my forearm. “Good day for it.”
“It is,” Daisy agrees. “Thanks for tacking up.”
“No problem.”
We stand there awkwardly until Daisy notices Ollie’s new clothes. They fit better than anything he owned before, and she hinges forward at the waist to get a better look.
“Well, hey there, cowboy! You’re looking smart in your new boots.”
Ollie glances down at his toes. “Thanks. We got them on sale. Twenty percent off.”
I chuckle and shake my head. “True.”
“Are you going riding with us?” Izzy asks Ollie.
The little guy lights up like a glowworm, then turns his hopeful brown eyes on me. “Can I?”
My heart splinters into a thousand pieces. “Oh, buddy, I don’t think—”
“Please?” Izzy adds, tugging on her aunt’s arm. “That sounds like fun!”
“Well…” Consternation coasts across Daisy’s brow, but it’s gone when she turns her attention to Ollie. “Have you ridden a horse before?”
Ollie wilts a little. “Oh. No, I haven’t.”
“That’s okay,” Izzy says. “Isn’t it, Aunt Daisy? We can teach him.”
Daisy throws me a questioning look. I cover my surprise and answer her with a slight nod, after which Daisy matches her niece’s smile. “Would you like that, Ollie?”
“Yes!” Ollie trembles a little, and I realize he’s on the verge of tears. “I would really like that.”
Daisy grins and taps the brim of Ollie’s hat. “Okay, then, cowboy. We’ll stay in the yard and Izzy can help me teach you some of the basics—how to mount properly, keep your balance, hold the reins. Let’s saddle up Pony Noir. I think he likes you.”
Heat bursts into Ollie’s cheeks as his face splits with a grin. My chest expands at the sight of it. I catch Daisy’s gaze over the top of my kid’s head. Thank you, I mouth.
She takes a second too long before she finally says, You’re welcome.
Daisy and Izzy mount and ride at an easy pace around the paddock while Ollie and I get Pony Noir saddled. My boy bounces on his toes the whole time.
“Can you believe it, Pony?” he asks the patiently waiting horse. “I finally get to ride you!”
The lesson starts with Ollie on his feet and Daisy revising things I’ve already taught him.
I try to keep an eye on Ollie while untacking Chardonneigh and getting shit done around the stable.
Daisy doesn’t need a reason to think I’m slacking off, but eventually, I give up.
I don’t want to miss a moment of Ollie’s first ride, so I lean back on the fence, arms crossed and hat shading my face, as Daisy picks up the lunge line.
Ollie puts a foot on the step to mount, pausing to gaze up at the animal he’s going to try to master, and hovering there between living out a dream and giving in to fear. He searches for me, uncertainty clear in his expression, and I cross the yard without a second thought.
“Hold on to the saddle here,” I say, showing him where to grip the leather. “And put your other hand over here. That’s right. You’re going to pull yourself up and throw your leg over at the same time. One smooth, swift movement.”
“He’s so big,” Ollie whispers, quiet enough that I need to lean in. “I don’t want the girls to think I’m scared, but I am. Just a little.”
“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” I murmur so only he can hear. “It’s always a little intimidating the first time, but I’m right here. I’ll catch you if you fall.”
Ollie gives me a firm nod, then with a big breath of courage, he hoists himself onto the saddle. I grin and make sure he’s settled, then step back to let Daisy show him the correct way to handle the reins.
“Loosen your fingers,” Daisy prompts. “You don’t need to hold so tight. Pony’s not going anywhere.”
Ollie’s fingers slacken, and as Daisy tugs the gelding into a gentle walk, I keep up on the other side.
Except for a sideways glance, Daisy ignores me and concentrates on Ollie.
His shoulders are high, his knuckles white on the reins, and if he doesn’t loosen his muscles, he’s going to be complaining tonight about the ache in his thighs.
I can tell by the way Daisy studies him that she notices it too, and within a few minutes, she corrects his posture.
With Izzy on Mabel a few paces behind us, I stay close for a little longer. Daisy keeps coaxing Ollie toward confidence, and once I’m sure he’s more comfortable, I hang back to let Daisy do her thing.
Against the fence, I pull my hat lower, ostensibly to block the sun from my eyes, but really to hide the way I watch her.
She’s magnificent. Distracted the way she is by the horses and guiding Ollie, and with Izzy competent enough to ride on her own in slow, safe circles, I’m able to lean back and just look.
I’ve seen her this way a hundred times. Maybe even more. So confident and capable and incredibly beautiful. My throat tightens when I think about our first night together, then every night after that, and not for the first time, I wonder about all the things I gave up when I gave up on us.
“That’s it!” Daisy exclaims as Ollie completes a lap.
His shoulders are looser than they’ve been so far, his spine is straighter, and the rhythm of his hips finally matches his horse’s gait. Daisy encourages him with gentle direction, and Ollie wavers between intense concentration and unbridled joy as he learns something new, then gets it right.
To the side and a little behind them, Izzy follows on Mabel’s back, calling encouragement and corrections like she’s Daisy’s little deputy.
Ollie doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, I think he likes it.
His grin gets wider every time Izzy’s perky shouts reach him, and his happiness loosens the month-old tension in my chest. It feels so good to relax that I forget we’re not supposed to be here and we’re not going to stay.
Daisy brings Pony Noir to a halt at the hitching post, and I push off the fence to help. Daisy assists Izzy’s dismount while I pick Ollie out of his saddle, then set his new boots on the ground.