Chapter 7
CHAPTER 7
S pencer reached under the mare to adjust the cinch.
This wasn’t Bluebell’s first rodeo. When he’d first hoisted his heavy saddle onto her back, she didn’t flinch, not even a twitch or a flick of her ear. Some horses (like Alpine) threw a tantrum every time they were tacked up. They would toss their heads at the mere sight of a bridle and coaxing the bit into their mouth was a chore that demanded patience, finesse, and some good, old-fashioned persuasion.
There were horses that dreaded work, and there were the ones that thrived under it. It was what cowboys often referred to as a horse that liked having a job. He couldn’t be entirely certain just yet, but Spencer had a hunch Bluebell fell into that latter category.
The mare stood tied to the hitching post without fuss, no pawing or stomping, just licking and chewing, another good sign. When Spencer approached her with the bridle, she lowered her head to accept the bit eagerly.
“Good girl,” he praised, pulling her forelock out from under the leather strap and running his fingers through the tuft of hair. “You’ve done this before, huh?”
His plan was to saddle her up and take her down to the round pen to see how much she knew. She wasn’t green, that was obvious. But there were many levels to a horse, ranging from skittish to bombproof. If Nana Jo really did have hopes of using Bluebell as a lesson horse, she’d have to be as close to bombproof as possible.
Taking the reins, Spencer led the blue roan through the pasture and toward the pipe panel pen where they often exercised their horses, weather permitting. Thankfully, today was nothing but blue skies without any sign of rain or snow in the forecast. He knew if he didn’t take advantage of a beautiful, clear day like this, they could very well go all winter without exercising the new horse, and that would be a huge setback.
Bluebell followed along nicely, giving Spencer his space but not dragging too far behind. With every step, he grew fonder of the sweet mare. From what he could assess so far, she was definitely a keeper.
“Let’s see how much you know,” he said as he knotted the leather reins and moved them over her head, so they were out of the way. He gathered the lunge whip perched upright next to the gate and kept it low by his side, so as not to startle her. Some horses lost their minds at the sight of the training instrument, or even a plastic bag, for that matter. This particular tool wasn’t used to physically whip the horse, just as a stick to direct their movements, like an extension of Spencer’s hand.
Bluebell had obviously seen one before, because as Spencer walked to the middle of the pen, she immediately moseyed over to the rail, knowing the drill. He lifted the whip to his waist and directed the tip of it toward the horse’s rump. Immediately, Bluebell began walking in the direction Spencer urged her in. Good , he thought to himself, nodding. She does know a little something.
Making a clicking noise with his mouth, he asked for a trot, and just like before, she picked up on it immediately without Spencer even uttering the verbal command.
As Bluebell trotted along the perimeter of the pen, Spencer remained in the middle, tracking her as he pivoted on the heel of his boot to rotate in unison. Then, moving the whip into his other hand, he dropped his weight onto his left knee and, like she’d been doing this all of her life, Bluebell promptly turned around and began trotting in the other direction.
“Very good, Bluebell,” he praised. This was going better than he could have ever anticipated. Sure, any horse with even a little training knew how to lunge, but the willingness and attentiveness Bluebell showed was what impressed him the most. The horse not only wanted to please but knew how to take every direction he commanded.
After trotting for some time, he asked for a lope, and the horse cantered beautifully, her stride long and graceful. To his relief, she was sound at all three gaits, something they definitely took a chance on by purchasing her without a test drive.
The two worked in the round pen for almost a half an hour before Spencer decided it was time to finally try his luck in the saddle. Bluebell had proven incredibly trustworthy on the ground. It was time to see what she did with a rider on her back.
Dropping the whip to the sand, he uttered a soft “whoa” and the mare’s hooves instantly planted, her hind feet sliding expertly underneath her. Had she been a cutting horse in her previous life? Spencer could see it—the way she moved with such agility and precision, reminiscent of those highly trained horses that could turn and stop on a dime. Whatever the discipline, it was evident she was a good mare, possibly even fit for the lesson program Spencer’s grandmother had recently dreamed up. She was safe, sane, and sound—three things Spencer would never take for granted in a horse.
He approached Bluebell slowly, and she turned in to meet him in the middle of the pen. With every step, his confidence in this new horse grew.
“Hey, girl.” Running his hand down her dark mane, Spencer spoke softly. “You up for a ride?”
Her low nicker was well-timed, like she agreed.
Spencer adjusted the cinch again, pulling it another notch to tighten the latigo before he placed his boot into one of the stirrups. He didn’t swing his leg over just yet. He wanted to give her a chance to refuse or show signs of discomfort before he fully sat in the saddle. But, like everything else up to this point, Bluebell was unfazed, completely at ease with this next challenge.
“Okay. Let’s do this.”
Grabbing the horn, Spencer hoisted himself up and over, sitting astride the blue roan.
“You good with this?”
He couldn’t see her face but could hear the telltale licking of her smacking her lips.
“Alright, girl. Here we go.”
He collected the reins and relaxed his seat while he squeezed his legs gently to urge Bluebell into a walk. She did just that, picking up his prompts without hesitation. While some horses required specific cues like neck reining, Bluebell seemed to understand his leg pressure and balance in his saddle alone. She was absolutely push button, responding effortlessly to his guidance. With loose reins and subtle shifts in his weight, Spencer maneuvered her around the pen with ease.
“Someone put a lot of work into you,” he said, reaching down to pat her on the neck. He didn’t even have to ask for a stop verbally, simply sitting back on the pockets of his jeans was enough to signal his request. Bluebell halted instantly. “Good girl, Bluebell.” Another pat, followed by a scratch along her long mane. “You’re worth every penny Nana Jo spent on you, and then some.”
They spent the better part of the afternoon in the round pen, and when Spencer decided it was time to give the mare a well-deserved break, he rode her all the way back to the barn before climbing down from the saddle.
Nothing bothered her; not the pair of birds that zipped back and forth in front of them, chirping as they flew past, not the wind that picked up, making the leaves rustle and the pines sway, and not the shrill call from the rooster that announced their arrival back to the barn. Bluebell was calm and steady, taking everything in stride.
He wondered if it was premature, but he thought about sending Trinity a text to let her know about Bluebell’s progress. After all, he’d promised Mia he would keep them posted. But were they really ready to give lessons? Or was it just an excuse to contact Trinity? Because he’d wanted to talk to her again. Sure, they had the paint samples to choose; he could also use that as a reason to reach out. But he’d seen her the night before, and in some ways, it felt too soon to check back in.
Stop second-guessing yourself, he thought as he put his saddle away in the tack room and brushed Bluebell before leading her back to her stall.
There was no reason not to text Trinity. They were friends after all, right? He didn’t need to read into it.
Using that logic, he punched out a quick message, feeling like it was appropriate to do so.
Just wanted to keep you updated like I said I would. Took Bluebell out for a ride today and she did fantastic. She should be ready for lessons next week if that’s something you want to get on the calendar.
Leaning against the stall, Spencer rested his back against the rough wood, his boot heel tapping on the lowest rail as he read over the text. Was it too much? Too forward? Too soon? Was there a way for him to unsend it? Should he just chuck his phone into the manure pile and move on?
He chewed on his bottom lip and sighed.
“What are you huffing and puffing about?” Nana Jo broke his concentration when she appeared in the doorway of the big barn moments later. She crossed the aisle and came up to him just before Spencer jammed his phone into his back pocket and shoved off of the stall.
“Nothing.” He wasn’t about to tell his grandmother that he’d sent a text to Trinity. The woman would pry and prod, and who knows what she’d get out of him. He wasn’t good at keeping things close to his chest. “Just putting Bluebell away. Spent some time in the round pen with her today.”
“How’d she do?” Nana Jo folded her arms over the stall door and gave the mare a long look. “Did I throw away my money with this one?”
“Just the opposite.” Spencer joined his grandma at the rail. “She’s highly trained, and super motivated. Not a mean bone in her body. I’m not sure how she ended up with that horse trader, but I’ve seen horses like her sell for five times what you paid.”
“No kidding?” Nana Jo flicked one of her long gray braids over her shoulder and smiled. “You think she’ll make a good lesson horse?”
“She’s definitely got the patience. I’d hate to see her become dead-sided from being kicked by kids just learning to ride, though. Right now, she’s really responsive. Doesn’t take more than just a little pressure to get her moving. With the right rider, I think she’d be great.”
“I think Trinity’s girl might be a good fit. That Mia loves horses and has a lot of respect for them. She doesn’t strike me as the type of kid that would be anything but absolutely gentle. Sure, she’s only five, but that young lady has had to grow up quite a bit in the last year.”
Now that Spencer thought on it, it was surprising to think that Mia was just a kindergartener. She did seem more mature than that, despite her defiance with her mother the night before. But he agreed with his nana; Mia would be nothing but caring and kind with the mare. In his mind, they would make the perfect pair.
“I actually just sent Trinity a text about that,” he confessed. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, dismayed to see that she hadn’t replied.
“Yeah? I didn’t realize you and Trinity were like that.”
“Like what?” He gave his grandmother a look.
“On texting terms.”
“She’s a friend,” he explained with a shrug. “That’s all.”
Josephine cocked her head. “You have a lot of female friends back in the valley?”
“Other than cows and heifers, not really.” He chuckled because it was the honest to goodness truth.
“Hmm. Thought so.”
“I’m not trying anything here, Nana.”
“I know you’re not. What I’m saying is that you probably should.”
Spencer’s gut spasmed, a shock from his grandmother’s words. “What do you mean by that?” He wished she would just say what she meant outright rather than talking in these confusing circles.
“It’s no secret I think Trinity is a lovely lady,” Nana Jo said, tipping her chin toward her grandson. “And you know I think the world of you. What I’m hinting at is that I think the two of you would make a great couple. That’s all.”
There it was, finally out with the truth. But now that the words had been spoken, Spencer wasn’t so certain he wanted to hear them. “I’m not sure Trinity is in the place for a relationship,” was all he could think to say.
“It’s been almost a year, not that there is any real timeline for those sorts of things. Love’s timing is something only the Big Man upstairs can make any real sense of. It’s just that I see the way you are with her kiddos, the way you are with her. It’s different.”
“And how’s that?” He was genuinely curious.
“Protective. Caring. Genuine. Every good quality that’s in you comes out when you’re around them.”
He didn’t know how much of that was the truth and how much was his grandmother seeing what she wanted to see, but he appreciated the compliment. Nana Jo always had been his biggest fan.
“Let’s just say this,” he started. “I’m not opposed to something happening between us if that’s what’s meant to happen. But I’m not going to force it and I’m not going to rush it. What will be will be.”
He knew it would never satisfy her, but that was where he was going to leave things.
“Fair enough,” Nana Jo conceded, giving Spencer that tenacious grin that he would forever associate with his beloved grandmother. She sure was a spitfire. “You all done out here? Because I could use your help getting down a couple of old boxes from the attic. Clara will be here in the morning to pick them up.”
Wait…his twin sister was coming to town? This was news to him. “Really? Since when? She hadn’t said anything to me.”
“Oh, grandson of mine, you don’t know everything that goes on around here,” Nana Jo replied with a knowing chuckle and wink of her crystal blue eye.
Spencer was beginning to think he was in the dark about more than he ever cared to know.