Chapter Six #2
Seth draped the saddle blanket over the horse’s back, smoothing it carefully. “Nah, she’s just showing off.” He settled the saddle, buckled each strap with ease, then motioned for Hayes to mount.
Hayes shook his head with eyes wide. “I can’t.”
“Sure you can. Just put your left foot in the stirrup, grip the horn and cantle, then swing up. I’ll adjust the stirrups after.”
Hayes’ voice wavered. “Isn’t there a stepstool I could use?”
Seth sighed. “Mr. Hayes, just how long ago was your last riding experience?”
“Uh, I was just a kid. It was at the fair.”
“Are you telling me, you rode the ponies around under a tent?”
“Yes, but I was on a horse,” Hayes pointed out.
“That and this are night and day, Mr. Hayes. I don’t appreciate being lied to. I’ll get the stool for you and if you ever lie to me again, about anything, you’re gone. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, sir. I just wanted to impress you.”
“You don’t need to impress me, but you would have if you’d been honest. I’ll be right back.” Seth headed back into the tack room and returned with a short wooden stool, paint chipped, legs uneven. He set it by the horse’s side. “Here you go. I’ll tack up my horse while you climb on.”
As Seth moved to another stall, he saw Ryan approaching. She winked at Seth; he grinned as she stopped beside him.
“So why didn’t you suggest the stool for me?” she teased.
Seth leaned in. “I didn’t suggest it. He did. Besides, I wanted to cop a feel.”
Ryan laughed, then looked at Hayes.
“Come on, Sean,” she called to Hayes. “Get on, or you’ll never make it to the fence line before dark.”
Hayes glared. “You think you’re the expert now?”
“Oh, no,” Ryan replied, nudging Pearl into motion. “But I did manage without a stool.” She waved and led the horse away.
Seth watched as Hayes squared his shoulders, stepped onto the stool, and hoisted himself into the saddle. The horse swayed under his weight, ears flicking back at him. Seth adjusted the stirrups and studied Hayes’ boots hovering uncertainly above the horse’s flanks.
“Alright?” Seth asked.
Hayes nodded as if afraid to speak. Seth grinned then vaulted into his saddle, then he looked at Hayes.
“Just gently nudge her with both knees. She’ll follow.
Relax in the saddle. The horse will feel your tension, and it will make her tense.
It’s not good for her and trust me, it’s not going to be good for you either.
” Seth watched as Hayes did as he said. With a gentle cluck, he urged the horse forward into the golden pasture beyond.
Seth drew Zephyr to a gentle halt on the sunbaked trail.
He shifted in his saddle and watched Hayes fidgeting in the seat of his horse.
Sparse grass crackled under hooves, and a breeze stirred dust at the edge of the fence line.
Hayes had asked only a handful of questions so far; Seth could tell the man was unnerved by the height and the animal beneath him.
“Mr. Hayes,” Seth called, voice calm against the whisper of wind through the oaks, “any more questions for me?”
Hayes swallowed hard, cheeks paling. “Uh, yeah, but they’re on paper in my pocket.”
Seth let Zephyr shift his weight on his haunches. The horse’s coat gleamed in the afternoon sun. “Then get it out.”
Hayes hesitated. “I’m not sure how without spooking the horse. What if she runs?”
“She won’t,” Seth said, low and assured. “We’ll stop at the pond up ahead. Let her drink. You’ll have all the time you need.”
Hayes nodded, shoulders stiff. Seth eased Zephyr forward, leading the way along a winding path. The sun set high above the fenceposts, and the scent of sage drifted around them. At the next bend, Seth reined in again. A sagging section of wire fence lay tangled on the ground.
“I need to fix this,” he said. “If you want to dismount, now’s your chance. It’ll only take a few minutes.”
Hayes’ voice trembled. “I’ll stay up here, if you don’t mind. Once I’m down, I’m not sure I can climb back on.”
“Suit yourself.” Seth slipped from the saddle, boots crunching on dry dirt. He opened a leather saddlebag, retrieved wire cutters and pliers, and set to work. Under his skilled fingers the fence straightened, taut once more against the blue sky.
Hayes cleared his throat. “Why do you carry that rifle?” He nodded toward the long barrel strapped to Seth’s saddle.
Seth paused, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. “Plenty of wild animals out here; bears, mountain lions, and wolves. I don’t go looking to kill them, just to scare them off. Only pull the trigger to kill if I absolutely have to.”
Hayes scanned the sagebrush as though expecting a cougar to leap out. “Trust me,” Seth added, “they’re more afraid of you than you are of them.”
“Yeah, right,” Hayes muttered, and Seth laughed. Tool kit stowed, he swung back into the saddle and beckoned Hayes to follow.
They picked their way down a narrow dip in the land until they could hear the gentle gurgle of water. A small pond lay nestled among cottonwoods, its surface rippling in shifting light. Seth dismounted again, let Zephyr’s reins fall to the ground and approached Hayes.
“Let me lead Clover over to that rock so you can step down,” he offered.
Hayes exhaled, stiff-legged. “Okay.” Seth took Clover’s reins and guided her beside a flat outcropping. With one careful step, Hayes slid from the saddle. Seth watched him steady himself, then led both horses to the water’s edge. The animals lowered their muzzles and drank, nostrils flaring.
Seth removed his hat, ran fingers through his hair, then settled it back in place. The air smelled of sun-heated earth and fresh water. The temperature was rising, which was a good sign. He turned to see Hayes gingerly shifting weight from one foot to the other.
“You weren’t kidding about muscles you didn’t know you had,” Hayes said, voice rough.
Seth nodded. “Ride often enough, or do any physical work, and the soreness goes away.”
“How long have you been riding?”
“Before I could walk, my father put me on a horse with him. Raised me on his ranch. It’s in my blood.”
Hayes cracked a grin. “I’m surprised Ryan got on one.”
Seth’s jaw tightened. “She doesn’t seem like the type to back down from a challenge.”
“She’s not, seen her do some crazy shit for her magazine shots.” Hayes shrugged.
Seth said nothing. He had no desire to talk about Ryan with this man.
“Are you two an… item?” Hayes prodded.
Seth forced a smirk. “Figured that was coming.”
Hayes leaned back; arms crossed. “She seems taken with you. Probably because you’re so different from men she knows, no suits, no fancy dinners.”
Seth blinked. He didn’t bother to deny it.
Hayes glanced toward the horses, then reached into his pocket. Seth crossed his arms, sun warming the sleeves of his flannel shirt. When Hayes attempted to sit on a rock, he nearly fell off, scrambling upright with a groan. Seth bit back a laugh.
“Hope you can move tomorrow,” Seth teased.
Hayes rubbed his backside. “Think I’ll soak later.”
“I’ve got salve,” Seth offered. “Take a jar.”
Hayes nodded and finally fetched his paper, the pages crackling as he thumbed through them.
They settled on the sloping bank, golden reeds whispering against their denim-clad legs in the afternoon breeze.
Hayes fired questions about soil rotation, forage yields, irrigation, and his pencil poised above his notepad.
Seth answered patiently, his fingers occasionally plucking at a reed as he spoke.
He recited the same information about the feed that he told Ryan, watching Hayes's neat handwriting fill line after line.
Then the questions turned personal, Hayes's voice dropping half an octave as he glanced at Seth.
“Have you ever been married?” Hayes asked.
“What does that have to do with growing feed?” Seth replied evenly.
“Nothing, just curious.”
“I’m not answering personal questions.”
Hayes hesitated. “But—”
“None,” Seth cut in. “We can head back.”
Hayes stood, letting his horse drink. Once she was done, Seth led Clover to the rock, and Hayes clambered into the saddle, face set in a thin line.
Seth mounted Zephyr, heart thudding, and they turned away from the pond.
The clop of hooves and whisper of reins were the only sounds as they rode back in silence, the late sun gilding their path.
****
After petting Pearl, Ryan set down a metal bucket of cool water, then sprinkled a handful of sweet-smelling oats into a feeding trough.
The earthy scent of spent straw and horsehair filled her nose as the mare nuzzled the grain.
Ryan slid her palm along Pearl’s velvety neck, feeling the warmth of muscle beneath the coat.
“I’ll miss you, Pearl. You’ve slipped right into my heart, just like your owner,” she murmured, resting her cheek against the horse’s mane. A single tear traced a path down her cheek.
After a final, lingering pat, Ryan pushed open the heavy stall gate.
The hinges groaned, echoing down the barn’s aisle of rough timbers and golden straw.
She made her way out of the barn, hoping to find Cull.
As she stepped outside, sunshine spilled over her face.
The vast Montana sky stretched overhead; an endless azure dome pierced by distant snow-capped peaks.
Rolling fields of amber grass shimmered in the breeze, and she couldn’t help but smile at the raw, untamed beauty surrounding her.
It was warm today and just recently, it had snowed.
“Ma’am?”
Ryan turned to see Micky coming from around a stack of hay bales. He was tall, hat tilted low, dust fanning out from his boots. A faint grin tugged at his lips.
“Hi, Micky. Do you know when Cull will be back?”
“He’s fixing the fence,” Micky replied.
“Yes, he did tell me that. I just… have no clue what to do next.”
Micky tipped his hat. “Seth’s got the walkie-talkie. You can radio him.”
Ryan fished her phone from her pocket. “I have this—”