Scared or Mad/Tally 4

My work at the barn progressed steadily. My student load increased, horses kept trickling in and the boss had started letting me ride their buckskin stud River.

He was home from the trainer for the breeding season and needed regular exercise. Since Bill had loaded up Tally and headed to his home in Canyon City they had no one who was comfortable enough with the horse to exercise him.

River was the first stud horse I had ever consistently worked with. My previous experience with stallions was starting a 4-year-old Morgan cross for some friends while I was in college.
My friends kept this horse with a herd of equally indiscriminate looking mares in a mountain pasture outside of Ft. Collins.

Having equal amounts of youth, inexperience and bravado I broke out the colt in the pasture with a halter and a bareback pad.

Since the stud had a kindly nature and the gods seem to have a soft spot for children and idiots on horseback I managed to get the job done.

River was a different story. He had been in training for most of his life. He was big, buckskin and meaner than a snake.

“That’s the way studs are,” the boss told me, “he has to be handled with respect.”

I soon learned to slip into his stall quietly, halter him with an elbow ready to guard my face and body, slip a stud chain across his nose and tie him short and high.

River was quick with his feet and quicker with his teeth. He could sense the first second of inattentiveness and turn it into a rodeo.

Once a week the boss and I would haul him out to the trainer, Devin’s, and I would get some help riding him.

I was learning about the world of pleasure horses and the basics of reining. I was also learning how to stay alive when I handled the Riv.

“I have never handled a worse horse on the ground,” Devin snarled, “this son of a bitch needs to be gelded.”

River didn’t behave like the other horses in the all-around trainers barn. They stood quietly in their stalls and rarely nickered. If tied in the cross ties they never fussed or became impatient. The studs stood with their heads low and their eyes averted no matter what went on in front of them.

They sure didn’t act like the horses I’d been around. I knew I had a lot to learn and riding Riv was a way to learn it.

One afternoon I was at home jogging him around the indoor, thinking about my seat, Riv’s cadence and his drive. The slow, even jog was mesmerizing. As usual the boss slouched back in his folding chair with his legs crossed. His hands were busy repairing a bridle as he watched us work.

“You know, Bill says he’s really getting on with Tally,” he said.

“Good to hear,” I answered.

“He’s about ready to ride her,” he continued.

“Great!” I said with all the enthusiasm I could muster.

I put Riv into a lope and started to work on transitions. I wanted to be too busy to talk about Tally.

The little bay mare with the coarse head and doe eyes had stayed in my mind. My anger had no place on the job. The horse belonged to the people I worked for and the decisions involving her were theirs.

I wrapped my legs tighter around River and rolled my calves. He lifted his back, hung his head low and drove deep with his back legs.

This pleasure gig threw me. The harder I squeezed with my legs the slower he would go. It was wild. Learning to ride a horse with the reins two feet longer than I was used to was also pretty amazing.

“You think you’re up to showing him?” The boss asked.

My heart started to pound.

“I’ll sure try,” I answered as we loped past.

“Good enough,” he smiled, “I’m going up to the house to tell Carolyn, she’ll be pleased.”

I slowed Riv to a walk after the boss left. I couldn’t believe it. They were going to let me show their horse. I was proud and scared at the same time. What if I couldn’t control him? What if he ate me? What if I looked totally stupid?

I was to excited to deal with the Pleasure stuff any more. I started on my circles, forcing myself to look ahead, keep my speed up and think round and perfect.

River picked up on my energy and crow hopped a little. I snapped him down and put my mind back on what I was doing.

We were kicking up dust with our stops when the boss walked back into the door.

“I need you to feed,” he said.

His dark eyes had sunk deep into his face. The boss’s normally sun bronzed face was haggard and gray.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Bill’s in the hospital. His horses all showed up at his neighbors place. The found him all busted up on his property.”

“My God, what happened?”

“Tally’s running the neighborhood in a saddle and bridle, what the hell do you think happened? I’m going to kill that bitch.”

He turned and stalked out of the arena, his shoulders stiff and tightly drawn together.