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I shoot Cookie an apologetic look, still feeling bad leaving him with a mess. It’s not how I was raised. Actually, I was more likely to be the Cookie in this situation, the one left cleaning up after a bunch of rowdy boys. Maybe that’s why I feel so guilty.
I fall into step beside Silas outside. He starts rambling instructions so fast, I wish I had a notebook to write it all down.
“First up, grooming. Now today, the guys are gonna do most of it on their own because you weren’t out here. Since you’re training, they’ll cut you some slack. Horses need to be brushed, hooves picked, and tack ready to go by the right horse by six-thirty sharp. Are you following still? Farrell likes his saddled, and so does Austin. Getty likes to do it himself, and Rhett won’t let anyone do anything. Buddy likes everything done, even the bridle. He wants to walk out and mount, but then, sometimes he doesn’t show up. Wait fifteen minutes longer than everyone else and then put Chief back in the corral. I don’t really care either way if you get Sugar ready for me. And Buck is the same way. Houston is weird about it, changes week to week. Either way, he’s probably gonna yell. Just learn to take the hits. Hey, am I going too fast? The guys all say I talk too fast.”
“What? No, well, maybe a little. I’m hoping it’s like a card game and once I start it’ll get easier.” The barn is getting closer by the second and despite all my years of training, I feel like a newbie. “What’s after grooming?”
“Stalls. Gotta muck them all. Start with Chief’s since he’s Buddy’s horse. Then work through the rest, plus the corral. Check the rest of the herd that isn’t working and make sure no one is lame. Are you okay doing that?”
“Yes, I’ll manage.” Finally, something that feels up my alley. “And after stalls?”
“Clean up the staging yard. The guys are slobs most of the time and never put anything away. The tack room is a wreck. I haven’t kept up on it. And somewhere in there, Cookie will probably bring you some lunch.”
I hate to even ask, but I need to know. “Anything after lunch?”
“Riders come back as the sun goes down. Tack gets put away. Horses get cleaned up. They all need to be fed. I’ll teach you all that. I already fed them this morning. I hope you don’t mind getting up early. I’ve been getting started about five a.m. to get everything done before breakfast.”
Normally, I’d balk a little at the hour. But considering my alternative is a life on the run, I’ll suck it up.
“That’ll be fine.”
“Dinner at six and then after that your time is all yours.”
It sounds like a twelve-hour day at a minimum. I feel tired thinking about it.
Knowing how hard I’m going to work, I can’t help thinking how my Dad would be grinning ear to ear to see his princess shoulder to shoulder with the hired hands. If only he could see me now.
Rhett
It’s hard not to rescue her. Sunny struggles at first. Her version of grooming versus ours is miles apart. We focus on where the tack goes and making sure there’s nothing to irritate the horse between the equipment and their body. Sunny seems more used to a traditional top to bottom show groom.
More than once, Houston snaps at her for taking too long. I start to say something, but Dad shoots me a look to remind me that she has to learn. Still, I hate it. I hated learning that way when he taught me, and I hate watching someone else struggle in the same way.
“How’d the guys handle a hen roosting in the rafters?” Dad asks after a couple minutes of silence.
“She seems to fit in fine.” I’m glad I don’t have to lie. He’d see right through it. “She’s not as weak as you think she is.”
The old cowboy frowns. “She’s not the one I’m worried about. I’ve watched you bring home ailing animal after ailing animal in the hopes to rescue them. And what has happened every time?”
I don’t want to answer. There was the raccoon with the broken hand. It got healed up and first chance it got, he attacked me. I needed stitches. Then the feral cat I tried to turn into a barn cat when I was twelve. Different start, same ending, more stitches. I rescued a bird from that feral cat, nursed it back to health, and while I was climbing a tree to set it in a nest, I fell and broke my arm.
“This is different.”
“How so?” His voice has turned colder. “You found a wild animal, you think you can rescue it, tame it, and you’ll be bosom buddies. She’ll turn on you, son, it’s just a matter of time. Mind my words, keep her at a distance.”
Chance dances as if he loathes this line of conversation as much as I do. “Looks like everyone is ready. I guess I’ll head out.” I rein to pull around and whistle for my team to follow, all too happy to leave Dad in the dust. This may have started as a rescue for Sunny, but it’s quickly shifting to showing Dad that I know what I’m doing. I feel like if I can get her to truly be a member of the team, I’ll prove I’m finally a grown man, out from under his thumb.
Sunny
It’s a blur, a really wild blur of saddles, brushes, Houston screaming at me for getting the wrong saddle, and forgetting almost everything Silas said to me. Bless his sweet heart, he manages to right my every wrong and in reality, he should be the one being paid to be a groom. By the time all the crew leaves the yard, I’m ready to throw in the towel and walk straight into the ocean and not stop until it carries me far far away.
“Here ya go, Sunny.” Silas extends a manure fork to me. “We better get to work. We’re already behind.”
“You don’t have to remind me,” I say under my breath, but of course the sweet kid hears me.
“It’ll get better. My first morning stepping in after Getty, I wasn’t sure what I was doing either, but I learned. And you will too.”
“Why don’t you stay the groom, and I’ll hit the road?” I slide my fork under the first manure pile and heft it to the wheelbarrow. “You’re better at it anyway.”
