Cowboy Summer - 4. Breathing in Time

“You need to look after him.”

“Babe…”

“I can’t Cay,” Sam hated that he was doing this to his partner, “Look I’ll clear up around the yard and go out and patch up all the fences but I can’t be with him all day.”

Caleb frowned at his boyfriend and reached out to touch Sam’s dusty white hat.

“What happened yesterday?” Caleb let his hand get trapped in Sam’s fingers, “You were all shook up yesterday after you got back from the lake.”

“You were right babe,” Sam exhaled deeply and brought Caleb into his arms, wrapping himself around the slightly shorter man, “I think he has a bit too much wide-eyed lust.”

“You didn’t…” Caleb left the sentence unfinished.

“He’s a child Cay! I can’t believe you would even-!” Sam saw the wry grin on Caleb’s features, “Oh, you’re fucking with me…”

“Every day babe. Fine, I’ll take him. You take the truck and fix the fences.”

“Yes cher.”

Caleb kissed his boyfriend and grinned.

“And drive into town and buy something fun for dinner. I gotta go wake up our new recruit.”

As he ascended the stairs it dawned on Caleb that perhaps his treatment of Rhydian was going to be cruel. Going to wake a guest who hadn’t asked to be woken in the early morning would definitely be considered mean, and Caleb had a plan for the boy who had been ogling his man. If there was one quality that he and his horse didn’t share, it was that Caleb was really possessive. It had taken him a long time to allow Sam’s affections into his life, but now he had him, he wasn’t willing to let him go.

As if Sam would actually go… Caleb smiled to himself, then knocked in a perfunctory manner on Rhydian’s door and pushed it open.

“Rise and shine boy!” This statement was met by a general grumbling. Caleb answered by opening the curtains and removing the covers from Rhydian at the same time. Luckily the kid was still young or sensible enough to sleep in boxers, “We got a busy day ahead of us bucko. Up! Up!”

And through this jovial method of half shouted instructions, Caleb had Shura’s boy up and outside in under twenty minutes, dressed and standing if not actually upright, then at least mostly vertical and partially awake.

“Right then. Go get your horse.”

“I ache all over.” Rhydian whined.

“Like I give a damn” Caleb sighed, he was being mean, “Can’t be helped. Horse needs riding, and you need to be a better cowboy.” Caleb slapped the side of his fringed brown suede chaps, “Go on then, you know where the head collars are.” Rhydian grumbled and muttered something indistinct as he started walking out towards the yard. Caleb grinned to himself and followed him out. He took a long plain length of lead rope off a pin in the stable and wandered out to the paddock where Boy Latte and Shura were waiting. Sam had taken off in the truck, and Ikara was off at the far end of the paddock, grazing and uninterested. Caleb tied a thick knot in the end of the rope as he walked, made a non-standard slip knot in the end and wound the rest of the length into a loose coil. Boy Latte nuzzled him as he walked into the paddock, and Caleb stroked his strong neck with one hand, looped the knotted end of the rope over his head and brought a loop of rope through it, placing it over the quarter horse’s nose to create a simple little halter.

He hung back to watch Rhydian lead Shura in, and he saw an echo of the shapes that Sam’s body made when he lead in the horses. The teenager lined up his shoulder with Shura’s elegant head, and moved with him as he walked, making sure to keep a good line between himself and the horse. Caleb smiled as Boy Latte walked out with him, one hand on the rope, the other playing with the thick cream mane. Rhydian was learning fast, that was for sure.

The boy got Shura into the stall and took the halter off before going to find the brushes. Caleb put the cremello into the stall next door and kept a whole eye on Rhydian as he moved about the other horse. He brushed well, massaged the dapple grey neck and shoulders, and combed out the thick dark mane. Caleb rubbed Boy Latte down and wiped the horse’s eyes and nose with a damp cloth. When he handed Rhydian the hoof pick the boy looked at him blankly.

“Feet?”

“Um…” Rhydian stared at the four big black and tan hooves blankly, “And how do I persuade him to do that?”

“Ask.” Caleb made sure that Rhydian was looking, then ran his hand down Boy Latte’s leg and clicked his tongue as he reached the hock. Boy lifted the foot, jerked up the hoof and Caleb snuck him palm under the keratin and held the hoof next to his calf. “Use your body language to ask him things. He’s a good horse, he’ll listen to you if you listen to him.”

It took more than twice as long as it would have taken Caleb to saddle up three horses, but Rhydian moved well, and it was clear that he was starting to listen to the horse, even if he wasn’t sure what he was listening to. Out in the sand school Rhydian began walking out to the mounting block in the centre.

“No way kiddo.” Rhydian stopped and stared as Caleb spoke. Boy Latte was following him without being lead, and Caleb was holding a few lengths of various ropes. “You’re not getting on that horse until you know how to control him.”

“But I do know how to control him.” Rhydian scuffed the sand with one boot, and tugged on the reins towards the steps.

“No. Most people ride around without any idea what their horse is doing underneath them. A horse has a back half and a front half and if all you do is hold the reins and steer you’re only using the front half.” Caleb hooked Boy Latte up to a hitching post at the side of school and walked towards where Rhydian stood glaring at him. “And you can wipe that look of your face. You do realise that actually being on top of the horse is only about ten percent of riding?”

He handed Rhydian one of the flat purple leads and moved up the side of the horse, stroking the dapple neck. Rhydian walked over to the horse’s other side, looking perplexed. Under Caleb’s instruction they hooked the clips to the bit, worked along the horse’s sides to run the long reins through the stirrups. Caleb used a piece of baling twine to tie the stirrups under Shura’s belly and then walked around to the back of the horse, uncoiling the rest of the length of rope.

“This is called long reining.”

“OK…” Rhydian didn’t look like he was especially on board with the idea.

“Think of it as riding without sitting on his back.” Caleb took up the long reins while he spoke, playing out the length until he was standing about ten feet behind the horse. He clicked and flicked the reins and Shura started walking. “By using the long reins you’ll be turning the bit as well as using the stirrups properly. You can actually ride without reins at all, but it’s not recommended. Good riders hold on with their knees and steer with their legs.” Caleb began to move the reins in his hands, “Hold your hands close together and pull gently on the rein when you want him to turn. You see the tyres laid out along the middle there?”

Rhydian nodded.

“You want to weave through them but keep as close as possible. Turn around each end in a tight circle. Remember you’ll have to go wide to keep the stirrups in contact. Opposite stirrup to rein. Remember you’d kick on the left if you wanted him to turn right yeah?” Caleb turned around the end and was pleased to find Rhydian following him closely, watching the way he used his hands, “Step in behind then and take over, then…”

Rhydian took the reins in his hands and started to turn through the tyres. He went wide on the first turn, then missed the second one altogether. Then Rhydian trod on the trailing long rein and Shura jerked to a halt. He made a frustrated noise and shuffled the reins in his hands.

“Listen to him Rhyder,” Caleb used the nickname that Sam had given the boy, “You’re not going to build this relationship in minutes. It takes time.”

Twenty minutes later and Rhydian could think of nothing except walk, turn, left rein, right rein, swinging himself out wide to let Shura turn tight around the end tyre, the sixteen hand horse treading in his own hoof prints. He clicked and snickered to Shura, encouraged him along with the reins and a little shake here and there. When Caleb called out ‘jog to trot’ Rhydian flapped the long reins so that the stirrups touched the horse’s side and double clicked his tongue. He jogged behind his horse, watching the rise and fall of the horse’s hooves, seeing the ears swivel backwards to listen to him, checked the ground, the position of the tyres and didn’t even think about moving his hands. After they’d done the circuit twice in trot he slowed, pulling ever so gently on the reins and allowed Shura to walk while he cooled off.

“Get on.” Caleb was smiling at him, and Rhydian dropped the long reins as Shura stood patient and quiet as the stirrups were released and the long reins unclipped and folded up. Rhydian walked to the mounting block and Caleb swung up onto Boy Latte’s back as Rhydian mounted with a confidence he had not possessed two days before.

“One hand on the reins.”

Rhydian found himself obeying Caleb’s instruction before he’d even finished speaking, and steered Shura around the edge of the school with a little touch of his heel on the right flank.

“That’s very nice, now do it again.”

Rhydian steered with his heels, Shura kept an ear trained on him and they completed the circuit while Caleb watched from the back of his own horse. Into the trot, he rose when he knew he should have, fell back as the horse came under him, a rocking motion that told him when to sit and stand as they fell away from each other, rose to meet again at saddle and seat. It was nothing like it had been the day before when all he’d done was follow Ikara and Sam around like a donkey. He broke from the tyre pattern with half a touch to the horse and began to trot around the outside of the school. When Rhydian felt someone else behind him he was surprised to turn and find Caleb and Boy Latte two lengths behind them.

“Just breathe with your horse Rhyder.”

Rhydian went across the middle of the school, turned in a neat figure of eight and then came up along the long side again. Later, he had no idea what made him do it, but it just seemed natural to grip with his knees and thighs, squeeze the horse and slap the reins against his neck gently as he rose out of his seat. Shura moved from the up and down motion of trot, stretched out his limbs and then they were moving like a wave over the sand, breathing in time with each other as they cantered around the edge of the school.

After a lap, Rhydian relaxed his thighs and they fell back into trot, then walk, then stopped. He slapped and rubbed Shura’s neck with both hands and the horse snorted and whinnied.

“You did well. Both of you.” Caleb rode up next to them, “We’ll turn you into a rider yet bud.”

After that Caleb had him de-tack Shura in the school and they left the horses to roll and frolic in the sand while Caleb showed him the right way to dismantle and clean his bridle and saddle. Left alone for an hour with the saddle soap and the scent of leather, Rhydian thought of nothing but the ride, the action of the horse under him, the rise and fall of his breathing with the horse, and it was a surprise to look down and find that he’d finished the tack and re assembled the bridle without noticing. Caleb was standing leaning against the door jamb with his hat in his hands, checking over the work he’d done.

“Very nice. You ready to go again?”

Caleb had him tack up in the school and get right on. Shura followed him to the mounting block with no hesitation, and Rhydian found himself focused on the horse, the set of his shoulder and his heels as they cantered around for the warm up. Then there was cantering and trotting over poles on the ground, round a tyre at the end and then Caleb handed him a stack of rubber rings in various colours.

“You see that post by the mounting block?”

“Yup.”

“Drop one over the top.”

Walk. Drop.

Circle back; trot; drop; miss.

Circle back again; trot; aim; hit.

Rhydian whooped just as Shura snickered and when he’d run out of rings he was throwing them for nearly six feet away while trotting.

“And now you gotta do it at a canter.” Caleb handed the rings back to him, and off they went again.

So passed the rest of the long day. After each activity, Caleb would have him turn the horse out and give him a job to do. Rhydian cleaned the tack, washed out the buckets, refilled the feed bins, hauled hay from the barn loft into the mangers. He tidied up the brushes, cleaned all the bristles of hair, made up the dinners for the evening. He went out with Caleb and combed the sand in the school, helped to fix a flapping fence panel and scrubbed the yard with a stiff bristle broom and a barrow full of water. Caleb taught him to drive the tractor and they hauled the muck truck out to the big compost heap, introduced him to the chickens and the vegetable garden and the pigs.

And he rode with his horse. By the end of the day Rhydian could tack up nearly as quickly as Caleb could, but he couldn’t mount from the ground quite as easily. They trotted and cantered around the school, through the tyres and round them, both with and without reins, and Caleb sent him up to bed completely exhausted.

Sunset, sunrise, and Caleb had him up at the crack of dawn to collect eggs and fetch the feed buckets, fill the water bowser and drive it around to make sure everyone had full troughs for the day. He showed him how to make the quick rope halter and Rhydian lead Shura in and tack up like he’d been doing it his whole life. When Caleb handed him the coiled rope of the lasso, Rhydian stared at him like he was mad.

“You what?”

“It’s a lasso. You’re going to learn to throw. Just don’t hit Shura in the back of the head.”

“What am I aiming for?” Rhydian shuffled the coil in his hands. He was suddenly gripping the reins tighter than he had all the previous day.

“Me.”

“WHAT?”

“You’ll be fine. Just hold the rope about a foot from the knot and twirl it above your head. No, use the other hand.” Caleb walked backwards as he spoke, standing in the middle of the school of white sand in his scuffed up boots. “Flick your wrist like this, slow away from you, then quick around the back. Don’t hit the horse.”

Rhydian twirled the rope experimentally, and caught himself across the bridge of the nose.

“Ow!”

“Try again.” Caleb must have had the patience of a saint, and Shura was as steady and reliable as any horse could be as Rhydian tried time and again to throw the lasso. After about ten minutes of hitting himself in the back of the head he could manage to throw the lasso sort of indirectly at his host and instructor. Huffing and feeling like an idiot, Rhydian dismounted and set about un-tacking Shura and cleaning out the stalls before Caleb would let him try again.

Rhydian whooped in delight when the lasso fell from his hand over Caleb’s head and the native man gathered the stiff rope back up and handed it to him.

“Again.”

‘Again’ was Caleb’s favourite word that day. Once Rhydian could consistently rope him from a standstill from a bunch of points in the school he had the horse walk and made him throw from that. When they started to trot Rhydian started falling off. Every time he slipped it seemed a little more controlled and he got back on the horse more aware of why he’d fallen, more determined not to make the same mistake again. It hurt, but each time hurt less. A whole day with the lasso in batches of an hour, with plenty of ‘breaks’ where Rhydian brushed his horse, polished all the little brass discs that hung from the tack in the tack room, saw the other visitors to the ranch come and go. Moreta came out and brought them lemonade and sandwiches while Rhydian threw the lasso from a loping canter without managing to fall off, though he still missed, and clapped and smiled in pride at his efforts.

“Stick at it Rhydian.” She called out before heading back to the house, and Rhydian sat straighter in the saddle for hours after that.

It was the end of the day before Rhydian could lasso Caleb from the edge of the school at a canter and he was exhausted. Caleb practically had to pour him into bed, tugging off his boots and leaving him half passed out in his dusty clothes.

The third day he lassoed Caleb from the edge of the school first time round, and then feel off a lot as Caleb started having him trot and jump over low cross poles. Neither of those were as scary or thrilling as learning to steer without holding the reins (though Caleb said never to do that on the fields) and Rhydian found himself breathing in time with Shura, gripping with his knees, sterring by turning his body rather than his hands or feet. Shura responded better and better as they breathed together, listening together, moved together until Rhydian wasn’t sure where he finished and the horse began.

Caleb has him trot around some barrels in the school, holding a tight circle around the big steel drums, and Shura made the decision to go all out, and Rhydian lifted himself in his seat, gripped the reins and the dapple horse’s strong neck and pushed forwards as they took off towards the barrel. Two seconds later he wasn’t on, and Shura was trotting back towards him, head swinging low, and expression on his face like he wasn’t sure why Rhydian had gotten off.

“Racing canter is a lot faster than a regular canter. Shura’s done this before.” Caleb reached out a hand to help him up, “Did you ask for that canter?”

“No. It’s just felt…”

“Well you need to decide Rhyder,” Caleb stroked the horse’s velvet nose, “Love him and trust him, but make sure that you get things your way. Make your way the way he wants to do things too. Now get back up there.”

Red golden sunlight was pouring along the ground as they walked the horses out the paddock. Sam was in the field with Ikara, stroking and talking to his horse, and the blond cowboy grinned wide as the sky when Rhydian un-hitched his horse and stroked him before turning him away.

“You did good today Rhyder.” The Texan said, turning from his horse, “I saw.”

And to Rhydian that was worth more than the ride itself.