Me and the Big K

There was no wind. We sat our horses, letting them air up. The sun warmed through the back of our Carharts.
Steam rose off our horses flanks, and puffed a steady beat from their flared nostrils.
I scratched my horse's hip in idle synchronization. Salt quickly packed my fingernails.
"Look at her go to that mare." The Big K said.
I watched the young exchange student ride by. She pulled and tugged at the mouth of the struggling horse. Her spurs rolled up and down the heaving sides, asking for even more lift.
As soon as the young horse responded she called for an ill-timed whoa. The resulting mess ended in a lot of jerking and spurring on the part of the exchange student, and even more head flinging and tail wringing from the mare.
"They always go there." The Big K said.
"Go where?" I asked.
"They see me get after a horse and think, Aha! That's how he does it."
"Does what?"
The Big K looked at me and half grinned.
"Does what, she says. Train them. They think that's how I train them."
"What do you mean?"
The Big K leaned forward and ran a hand down his gray filly's neck.
"I get these new people in here. They follow me around, waiting to figure out THE BIG SECRET."
"Yeah, you're full of secrets."
I think I snorted a little.
"Any ways," he tried to look all mean, but he was about to crack up, "they come here and see me knocking a horse around, and they figure that's the trick. You have to start kicking them around."
The exchange student went burling past us, whaling away at that poor mare's face.
"What they never seem to see, is how much time I spend doing this."
Big K gave a vague wave toward his horse's ears.
"Doing what?" I asked.
"Well shoot, you're really good at it, I think you'd know. Doing nothing. Just sitting here."
"Whatever."
"No. I mean it." He continued.
"I might get after them pretty good, but it's maybe ten percent of the time. The rest of the time I'm just sitting on them. Being quiet.
Nobody seems to see the ninety percent. They only pick up on the ten."
I leaned back against my cantle and pushed my weight into my stirrups. My bay colt cocked his hip and switched his tail in mild irritation.
"Why don't you tell them?" I asked.
"Seems to work better if I let them figure it out."
"What if they don't?"
"Then they'll give it up soon enough. I can't change a mind set better than a horse can."
"Isn't that hard on the horse?"
"You know I don't put the new ones on the good horses."
"When did I go through that?"
"Shoot, I'm still waiting on you."
"Say what?" Sometimes his cowboy ways can be a might wearing.
"I wish you'd get mad at them once in a while." He said.
"I get mad."
"Psssh. You only get mad at me and your dogs."
The Big Kahuna's gray filly started to paw at the dirt. He lifted his reins and looked towards the indoor arena. She immediately loped off, ears perked.
"C'mon", he said over his shoulder, "Those buffs aren't going to work any better if our horses are cold."
I looked over my shoulder before we stepped into the cold twilight of the indoor.
The exchange student had set her horse up for another rundown.