Scarecrow on Horseback Page 2
He backed off from her as she got within reach of him but not far. She unlatched the gate and opened it invitingly. Zorro walked into the corral, and Mel shut the gate behind them both. The horses still left in the big open space had finished feeding and were standing in random groups of two or three. One horse nickered at Zorro, who stood still, his head hanging and his sides heaving slightly.
“I could get that saddle off you. Want me to do that?” Mel said. Cautiously she stepped to his side and laid the palm of her hand on his neck. When he didn't jerk away from her touch, she reached for the buckle to undo the cinch and heaved the forty-pound saddle off his back. She lugged first the saddle and then the saddle blanket into the barn and left them for the wranglers to put away. Sally should be pleased by his new hand's initiative.
Zorro was still standing in the same place when Mel returned to the arena. She was stroking his side when she heard more hoof beats on the road.
“Well, I'll be!” Sally said. Riding double with him on Rover was the girl with the braid. And following them into the corral was the man in the leather vest on Stilts. Sally swung out of the saddle and lifted the girl off Rover. “You feeling okay, sweetheart?” he asked her.
She nodded. “I'm sorry I fell off.”
“Not your fault,” Sally said. “Zorro was just feeling ornery this morning. How about I saddle you a nice, gentle horse and you and your Dad can start out again.”
“Her mother told me she was a rider,” the man whined as if he were being accused of something. “I took her word for it. How was I to know?”
“You never rode with her before?” Sally asked him.
“We're divorced. I live back east. I came out here just to meet my daughter.”
“Can I go home now? Please, Dad?” the girl asked. Her face was very white.
“You sore from that fall you took?” Sally asked.
She nodded. “I just need to go home now.”
Shamefaced, the man in the leather vest jumped off Stilts and put his arm around the girl. ”Okay, we'll get you to your mama, and she'll fix you up good as new.”
Mel thought the girl was brave not to cry.
As soon as the father and daughter had gone, Sally chuckled and said to Mel, “You're something else, girl. Won't trust a horse to carry you on his back, but cool as a cucumber with a high-strung animal like Zorro.”
“He didn't want anyone riding him today,” she replied.
“Yeah, I expect he's bugged about something. I'd better check him over good. Could be he got kicked in the ribs or something last night and is hurting.” He held out his hand. “Shake, Mel. I think you and me are going to be pals.”
Mel smiled and shook Sally's work-roughened hand. She was wondering if that girl lived close to the ranch, and if she'd ever see her again.
Chapter Two
That night in their little two-bedroom cabin, which was back up in the pines and hidden from the road, Dawn asked Mel how her first day had gone.
“Fine. I hung out in the big corral mostly,” Mel answered.
Dawn raised an eyebrow and smiled. “I figured if I couldn't afford to get you your own horse, taking you to live on a dude ranch would be the next best thing.”
“It is.”
Dawn sighed. “Well, we both found out something from last year in Cincinnati. You discovered horses. And me, I learned money isn't everything.”
“You were happy there at first, Mom.”
“Until I found out what snobs all those people were.”
‘Those people’ had been Max's friends and business associates. They'd made her mom feel inadequate, Mel knew. They'd been college graduates who had traveled and were good at things Dawn had no knowledge of, like golf and bridge and entertaining each other. Despite being the prettiest woman in Max's social set, she hadn't fit in any better than Mel had with Lisa's friends who talked of things with labels Mel didn't recognize and ratings she didn't understand.
“The Davises seem nice,” Mel said.
“Oh, yes,” Dawn said. “They feel like family already. I think we made a good move this time, Mel.” Her mother's face was alive with hope.
“Sure,” Mel said. “I like it here.” She would like it so long as she could be with the horses without being expected to ride one. As for her mother, who knew? Mom always started off hoping this new job in this new place was the right one. Then somehow in a year or two or three, it became wrong and she’d want to move on. Mel had lived in four states and six towns in her life. That should have taught her to make friends easily, but it hadn't. Instead, she'd become quieter and more self conscious, not qualities that attracted people to her, she knew. Lisa had been an exception. It had dazzled Mel to find a star like Lisa glad to be her sister. That was why she'd trusted that Lisa knew what she was doing when she made Mel ride Wonder Boy in the Hunter Under Saddle competition.
“I want that blue ribbon, and Wonder Boy needs those points,” Lisa had told her. “He'll show for you. He won't perform for anybody else but me, but he likes you, Mel. Don't worry that you've never ridden. Just sit on his back and leave it up to him. You nudge him with your heels when the judges say walk and pull back on the reins when you want him to stop. It's not jumping or anything. It's flat. You walk and trot and canter and turn around with a bunch of other horse. Nothing to it, honest.”
They'd only had one afternoon to practice, one afternoon for Mel to learn to ride when Lisa had had eight years of lessons. Max had talked about leasing a horse for his new stepdaughter, but he hadn't gotten around to it. Still Mel wasn't nervous. Lisa had been the nervous one. She'd snapped commands at Mel.
“Don't slump. Keep your back straight. Don't let the reins hang loose. Now you're holding them too tight. You're flopping around on the saddle, Mel. Can't you sit still?”
It seemed that Mel couldn't do anything right on Wonder Boy's back.
Finally Max had come out and ordered them to the dinner table, and Lisa had spent the rest of the evening frantically searching for riding clothes that would fit Mel. The trouble was Mel's legs were too long and her feet too big. The only part of Lisa's formal English riding outfit that fit Mel was the velvet covered hard hat. They ended up near midnight settling on an old pair of Max's riding breeches from when he'd been thin, and a long black jacket of Dawn's that was part of a business suit. Lisa's high black riding boots were too small for Mel, but Lisa said she would have to endure wearing them for the competition.
“They won't let you enter without the right clothes,” Lisa said as she tightened a belt around Mel's waist to keep Max's breeches from sliding down her narrow hips.
Max had suggested that Lisa withdraw Wonder Boy from the competition, but Lisa was adamant. The horse was going to win. She was counting on gaining those points. She'd looked at Mel with a frightening determination. “Mel can do it,” she told Max. “She has to.”
Had Lisa been able to ride Wonder Boy, Mel had no doubt he would have won. They would have stood out together with Lisa's waist length flaxen hair in its French braid matching Wonder Boy's braided tail and the tight straw colored braids in his mane. They would have been the most elegant horse and rider amidst the thirty parading around in a circle to the judge's commands. But Mel had ridden Wonder Boy, or she had tried to until her foot slipped out of the stirrup. She'd leaned to one side in the saddle and Wonder Boy shied. When she tried to sit upright and drew back hard on the reins, he moved backward against the flow of the other horses and got bumped. When he reared, Mel had promptly slid off his back and onto her butt on the ground.
The next thing she knew, Lisa was screaming at her in the arena in front of everyone in the stands, “You scarecrow. You stupid scarecrow. You ruined my horse.” Mel shuddered remembering the utter humiliation of it, the shame that she still couldn't shake. Her skin burned with it. Her stomach knotted up at the memory.
* * * *
The morning of her second day on the ranch Mel dressed in her worn jeans, oldest sweatshirt, and winter jacket
to report for work in the big corral. Sally was already there filling feed buckets. The sun was just peeking through the V in the mountains to the east, but the horses' hefty rumps were already arranged in a semicircle inside the fence as they waited for breakfast.
“Sorry I'm late,” Mel said. “But anyways I'm here. So what should I do?”
“Late? You're early. What's the matter with you, girl? I thought teenagers liked to sleep in.” His grin signaled that he was teasing.
“I saw lots of horse poop on the road. Want me to clean it up?”
“Trying to show me what a glutton for punishment you are?”
“I like to work.”
“Yeah, me, too. Well, get the wheelbarrow by the barn. You'll find the square-edged shovel we use for poop scooping next to it. Leave the barrow beside the gate for me to dump. It'll be too heavy for you. When you're done, you can tack up that Arabian there. Her name's Lily, and she's a real sweetheart.” He indicated a delicately boned white horse that looked to Mel like an equine ballet dancer. “Jeb's using her for some five-year-old kid coming in today.”
“Okay,” Mel said agreeably. But as she turned to go, she stopped to ask, “When does Jeb show up? Do I have to do what he tells me, or can I just work for you?”
Sally laughed. “Jeb's boss. We both do what he says. As for showing up, he comes when he wants.” Sally hesitated, then he advised, “Jeb's a little off his feed lately, Mel. Had a big fight with his girlfriend. She took off just before you came. Be smart if you sweet-talked him some.”
“I don't know how to sweet talk,” Mel said. “Why's he 'off his feed'?”
“Well, for one thing, Joy, his girl, was one of our regular wranglers and now we're short-handed.”
“Good. Then you really need me.”
Sally laughed, and she went to work on the road filling the wheelbarrow with horse dung in short order. Then Sally showed her what tack to use for a small horse like Lily.
“She's not that much bigger than a pony,” he said. “Less than fifteen hands high. That's about five feet. A hand's four inches.”
“Yes, I know,” Mel said. She could hear Lisa giving her that same bit of information in the shrill voice that rang out like gunshots. Mel went about tacking up the white horse while Sally watched approvingly. He left to work elsewhere when he was satisfied that she knew what she was doing. Though Sally hadn't told her to do it, Mel got out a brush and comb and began teasing the tangles out of Lily's white mane and tail. Lily muttered at her as if she liked the attention.
“Don't you hold your head high and proud,” Mel told her. “I guess you know you're pretty special. Some people say Arabians are the best. Think you are? Want to be my horse, Lily, my special horse?” She stroked Lily's smooth, long neck, but then the gelding next to Lily reached over with teeth bared to nip at the mare and Lily shied away.
“It's okay. I won't let him hurt you,” Mel said. She patted Lily's shoulder, and the mare settled with a sigh and touched her nose to Mel's ear. That was the instant Mel fell in love with Lily.
Jeb appeared behind Mel then. “Don't be thinking you can ride that horse,” he warned. “She's assigned to a guest.”
“I don't want to ride,” Mel reminded him.
“Why not?”
She shrugged, not liking him well enough to explain that having made a fool of herself doing something, she knew better than to give a repeat performance.
“It don't take much to trail ride. You just hang loose and stay on,” Jeb said. “We could use your help with the littlest kids. We got a four-year-old girl coming next week. Her mama insists the kid can ride, but I'm not about to send her out on a trail.”
“I could just walk around a ring leading her on Lily, couldn't I?”
“Not likely. The mother would feel she wasn’t getting her money's worth that way. Why don't you show me how you ride, and maybe we can figure out something. You've ridden, haven't you?”
“Sort of, but not western saddle.”
“So what happened? A horse throw you?” His grin was knowing.
Mel shrugged again. Let him think she was scared to ride. Let Jeb think what he wanted.
Sally assigned her two other horses meant to be ridden by children. The horses were old, slow, and tractable horses. When she'd finished saddling them and was fussing with their manes and tails, she noticed that Jeb and Sally were mounted on a pair of strong looking bays.
“We're going to test ride these new horses to see how they do on the trails. You could ride along with us on Lily. We're not going far,” Jeb said.
“No, thanks.” Mel tensed, fearing that he was going to try and bully her into it.
“Suit yourself,” Jeb said. “We'll be back soon. Think you can manage to lead Lily into the big barn at eleven? That's when we lay out our riding policy to the new guests and match them up with horses.”
“Sure, I can do that.”
“Well, maybe you better practice walking Lily around the corral. Give her some exercise anyway.” Jeb turned his horse and led the way to the road. Sally winked at Mel and followed Jeb.
Mel released Lily's lead line from the railing and clucked at the mare. Lily dipped her head gracefully, stepping up next to Mel at once. Mel stroked her mushroom-soft muzzle with one finger. “You are a sweetheart. I wish I could ride you. Maybe if we end up alone somewhere and no one's watching. What do you think? Think I'm hopeless?”
Lily's curled lip made Mel laugh. “Obviously, you do.”
* * * *
Later that morning an announcement came over the loudspeaker that new guests were invited to attend a trail riding orientation in the big barn. By then, Lily had become so comfortable following Mel around the corral that Mel could drop the lead line and Lily's head would still be at her shoulder. The horse's trust was touching. How could the big animals have such blind faith in the weak, two-legged creatures that fed and groomed them? Well, Mel meant to deserve that trust. Proudly, she walked out of the corral and across the road with Lily poking along at her side.
They entered the main barn and moved to the shadows at the far end where Jeb's pointing finger directed them. Only a few guests were in the stands on the side of the barn opposite the doors. Mr. Davis had said that snow still blocked some high mountain passes, but few of the riding trails were passable.
A family with three teenagers straggled in and crossed the scuffed dirt floor to climb into the stands. Mel spotted a small boy already seated up there with another set of parents. They were all in jeans and T-shirts. Good, Mel thought. At least she'd fit in around here clothes wise. Jeans and T-shirts were about all she owned. She'd already grown out of the few fancy outfits Lisa had chosen for her.
Jeb stood in the middle of the big, empty arena—an oval formed by the railings inside the squared off walls. He was dressed like some ideal model of a wrangler in a white felt cowboy hat, jeans with a big silver belt buckle, leather chaps, and a plaid shirt with pearl buttons. Well, he was sort of gorgeous, Mel thought. She wondered what his girlfriend had been like. Would she return to him when she got over being angry? Mel hoped so. He'd be easier to get along with if he weren't 'off his feed.'
“Now,” Jeb began, his ocean depths voice carrying without need of a microphone, “we're going to introduce you to your horse. We already matched you up with one according to those forms you filled out and mailed in, so you shouldn't have any problem, except maybe you might hit some ice on a trail. We're so high up in these mountains it don't warm up till late June.”
Finally Jeb said, “Now here comes Sally with the fool horse he favors, name of Rover—the horse's name that is. Sally may not look too sharp but he knows horses, probably got the smarts of one. He'll demonstrate how to mount and direct your horse. That is, if him and Rover are up to it today. They're both kind of geriatric, old that is.”
A hot rage rose in Mel at Jeb's put-downs of Sally. But Sally walked in smiling, leading Rover, who, on command, bent one front leg and drew back on the other three in a s
ort of bow. Then Sally tickled Rover under his jaw and Rover gave his horse smile. The audience laughed obligingly.
“Now there's a few rules to follow,” Jeb droned on, after he'd talked about the mandatory riding helmets for kids being optional for adults. “You always approach a horse from his left side, and don't walk too close behind him where he can't see you or he might kick. You stay with the wrangler leading your ride and let him or her deal with any problems, like dropped water bottles or lost hats.” His list of rules made the children fidget on the narrow benches, and still, Jeb talked on. He reminded Mel of last year's seventh grade social studies teacher, nicknamed Mr. Sandman because he put half the class to sleep.
“You folks are going to use mounting blocks, so there won't be any problems getting up on the horse,” Jeb said. “Remember you approach from the horse's left.”
Sally put the mounting block down on the wrong side with a one-handed flourish. He stepped onto it, pretending to teeter on one foot. When a child in the stands yelled, “Oh oh!” Sally, waved, grabbed the mounting block, scooted with it under Rover's belly and hoisted himself gracefully into the saddle from the right side.
“Well,” Jeb said, “at least he got on facing the right end of the horse today. Once you're in the saddle, a wrangler will adjust the stirrups and tighten the cinch. We'll stop again soon after we start out to check that the cinch is tight. If Sally's your wrangler, you might have to remind him about that. At his age, he don't always remember so good.”
Sally kept smiling through the remarks. Mel had realized the clown act was to amuse the guests, but she didn't like it or the part Sally played in it. He illustrated, as Jeb explained, how to start and stop and turn the horse. To Mel, Sally looked like a centaur, as if horse and man were one, as he had Rover walk to the left and the right and around and back up and then jog and lope and stop.
“So if old Sally can do it so good, you're not going to have any problems, right?” Jeb asked the audience.