preferred spending time with Dane.
She couldn’t wait to tell him about finding the horse, about watching her get better and about the new crazy colt they’d taken on. Dane was not a horse person. “Never been on one, thank you, and never tempted,” he said. “I’m more of a cat person.”
“You should let me take you for a ride sometime,” Lilly said. “I go so seldom myself, but I know enough to pick out a very gentle horse for you. And I’d be there to protect you the whole time.” Then she grinned at him.
“We shouldn’t waste our time—I’m not interested. I love hearing you talk about your horse stuff, though. Your eyes sparkle.”
“You should see the new guy at the clinic—Navajo with hair down to his butt. High cheekbones, kind of grim-faced. When he gets alone with that stallion in the round pen, it’s like a kind of hypnotism is going on, he’s so focused on the horse. And when the colt rears or pulls away—”
“Okay, stallion or colt?” Dane asked.
“A very grown-up unbroken colt. A big two-year-old male, a stallion, which means a male that hasn’t been gelded, over a thousand pounds of horse with very long, very strong legs and a lot of attitude.”
Dane whistled. “See now, when I think of a colt, I think of a cute little thing about the size of a rocking horse. This doesn’t sound like a youngster.”
She laughed. “If this guy didn’t like your face, he could stomp you to death in a second and feel no regret. But Clay, the new vet tech, he gets up close and personal, and when the colt resists him, they look into each other’s eyes for a second, the colt calms again and they start over. The colt only gets touched or talked to when he does a good job of minding his manners. It’s very cool to watch. The guy has phenomenal control and insight into the animal. They’re communicating.”
Dane tilted his head. “You sure it’s the horses that interest you? Sounds like the man has some mystical savage thing going on….”
“Native men do not appreciate being referred to as savage, ” she informed him.
“I bet there are times they’re not totally insulted,” Dane said with a smile. “I think you like him.”
“A Navajo man? Ah—that brings back some very unpleasant memories. I stay far away from Native men.”
Dane held her hand across the counter. “That was all a long time ago, Lilly. Ever consider moving past that?”
“I don’t want to move past it.”
“Did I mention you could use counseling?”
“About a thousand times,” she said.
“Okay then. Want to catch a movie Friday night?” he asked.
“That would be cool,” she said. “Yeah, let’s do that.”
Four
C lay Tahoma was honest to a fault and hated to mislead anyone, but when the future of a fine horse was at stake, he was willing to go there. If something wasn’t done about Streak, he could wind up being put out to pasture, gelded, maybe even put down. Unless he could compete, race, breed or function as a family pet, his future wouldn’t be too bright.
Once Clay had the name of the previous owner’s trainer, he realized he knew him. They hadn’t been close, but Clay had met Joshua Bledsoe on several occasions. He called him at once and was direct; he explained they were boarding and training the colt for the new owner. “I’m hoping you’ll tell me the rehab or training techniques you used on Streak following the accident,” Clay said.
“Accident?” Josh answered.
“Yes. Before we got him. There doesn’t seem to be any physical problem—it’s all emotional. But if I know what you did, I won’t cover the same ground. I think he’s salvageable. In fact, I’m sure of it. While we’re on the subject, I could use more details about the accident.”
“Details about the accident?” Joshua repeated.
“Just get me up to speed—how deep was the pit or hole, how long was he trapped and how’d he end up in it—I can’t imagine someone rode him into it. Then tell me
She couldn’t wait to tell him about finding the horse, about watching her get better and about the new crazy colt they’d taken on. Dane was not a horse person. “Never been on one, thank you, and never tempted,” he said. “I’m more of a cat person.”
“You should let me take you for a ride sometime,” Lilly said. “I go so seldom myself, but I know enough to pick out a very gentle horse for you. And I’d be there to protect you the whole time.” Then she grinned at him.
“We shouldn’t waste our time—I’m not interested. I love hearing you talk about your horse stuff, though. Your eyes sparkle.”
“You should see the new guy at the clinic—Navajo with hair down to his butt. High cheekbones, kind of grim-faced. When he gets alone with that stallion in the round pen, it’s like a kind of hypnotism is going on, he’s so focused on the horse. And when the colt rears or pulls away—”
“Okay, stallion or colt?” Dane asked.
“A very grown-up unbroken colt. A big two-year-old male, a stallion, which means a male that hasn’t been gelded, over a thousand pounds of horse with very long, very strong legs and a lot of attitude.”
Dane whistled. “See now, when I think of a colt, I think of a cute little thing about the size of a rocking horse. This doesn’t sound like a youngster.”
She laughed. “If this guy didn’t like your face, he could stomp you to death in a second and feel no regret. But Clay, the new vet tech, he gets up close and personal, and when the colt resists him, they look into each other’s eyes for a second, the colt calms again and they start over. The colt only gets touched or talked to when he does a good job of minding his manners. It’s very cool to watch. The guy has phenomenal control and insight into the animal. They’re communicating.”
Dane tilted his head. “You sure it’s the horses that interest you? Sounds like the man has some mystical savage thing going on….”
“Native men do not appreciate being referred to as savage, ” she informed him.
“I bet there are times they’re not totally insulted,” Dane said with a smile. “I think you like him.”
“A Navajo man? Ah—that brings back some very unpleasant memories. I stay far away from Native men.”
Dane held her hand across the counter. “That was all a long time ago, Lilly. Ever consider moving past that?”
“I don’t want to move past it.”
“Did I mention you could use counseling?”
“About a thousand times,” she said.
“Okay then. Want to catch a movie Friday night?” he asked.
“That would be cool,” she said. “Yeah, let’s do that.”
Four
C lay Tahoma was honest to a fault and hated to mislead anyone, but when the future of a fine horse was at stake, he was willing to go there. If something wasn’t done about Streak, he could wind up being put out to pasture, gelded, maybe even put down. Unless he could compete, race, breed or function as a family pet, his future wouldn’t be too bright.
Once Clay had the name of the previous owner’s trainer, he realized he knew him. They hadn’t been close, but Clay had met Joshua Bledsoe on several occasions. He called him at once and was direct; he explained they were boarding and training the colt for the new owner. “I’m hoping you’ll tell me the rehab or training techniques you used on Streak following the accident,” Clay said.
“Accident?” Josh answered.
“Yes. Before we got him. There doesn’t seem to be any physical problem—it’s all emotional. But if I know what you did, I won’t cover the same ground. I think he’s salvageable. In fact, I’m sure of it. While we’re on the subject, I could use more details about the accident.”
“Details about the accident?” Joshua repeated.
“Just get me up to speed—how deep was the pit or hole, how long was he trapped and how’d he end up in it—I can’t imagine someone rode him into it. Then tell me
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