“Yeah, for Beau.”
Because they both knew if they got together and it didn’t work out, Beau would be hurt, as well. Brooks didn’t want friction in the Preston family. He was the newcomer. He was trying to fit in and become a part of this family. It would do no good to have a repeat of what happened at the C’mon Inn. His father and this family deserved more than that from him.
Brooks’s brain was on board. Now if the rest of him would join in, it wouldn’t be an issue at all.
That settled, he gave the horse’s nose a stroke. Under his palm, the coarse hair tickled a bit, yet it was also smooth as he slid his hand down. “So, what are you doing with her today?”
“Today, we’re working on gullies and water.” Ruby jumped right in, eager to share her knowledge. “People sometimes think horses know what’s expected of them from birth, but nothing is further from the truth. This girl is water-shy, and she doesn’t know how to jump over a gully. Both frighten her. So I’m working with her today to make her more comfortable with both of those situations. Here, let me show you.” She walked Cider over to a dip in the property, the gully no more than a yard across. “First I’ll let her get familiar with the terrain.”
Ruby released the lead rope and, using her stick, tapped the horse on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’m not hurting her. The stick on the withers or neck lets her know she’s crowding my space. When she gets scared, she closes in on me. I’m trying to get her into her own space.”
Ruby worked the horse up and down the area. The horse avoided the gulley altogether. Ruby gave the horse room to investigate, leading her with the rope. “See that, Brooks? She’s stopped to sniff and get her bearings. That’s good. Now I’m going to bring her in a little closer. She won’t like it much—she doesn’t know what to do about the gully—but she’ll figure it out. I keep sending her closer and closer to the gap and tapping, like this.” She tapped Cider again and then gave the horse time to overcome her fear. Back and forth, back and forth. Then Cider stopped again, put her head down and sniffed around. The next time Ruby led her close to the gulley, she jumped. “There! Good girl. That’s wonderful, Cider.” She stroked the horse again, giving praise. “Good girl. Want to try it one more time?
“I’ll keep this going,” Ruby explained to him. “Leading her back and forth near the gully. And soon she’ll be a pro at jumping over it. It’s a start.”
“It’s amazing how she responds to you, Ruby. I saw a change in her in just a few minutes. Will she go in the water?”
“She’ll go near it and take a drink. But she won’t go into the water. That takes a bit more time. She’s thirsty now, which will work in my favor. But I won’t push her right now. She can have a peaceful drink.”
Ruby let the rope hang very loose, taking off any pressure, and approached the water. Cider resisted for a few seconds. Then, without being prompted by the stick or the rope, she walked over to the bank and dipped her head to lap up water. “See how wary she is? She won’t put her feet in. But she will, very soon.”
“I never thought about horses not feeling inherently comfortable with their surroundings. I don’t know a whole lot about horses, that’s for damn sure. I guess I figured they were naturally at ease with jumping and going in the water.”
“Yeah, I know that’s the perception. But horses, like children, need to be trained to do the things we know they are capable of doing. They certainly don’t understand what it means when we put saddles on them or bits in their mouths. The truth is, when I train the horses, they tell me what they need help with. And I listen and watch. The reason this method works so well is that I give the horse a purpose. I kept sending Cider across that gully and let her figure out how to solve the problem. It’s a matter of knowing what they need and providing it.”
Brooks spent the remainder of the morning watching Ruby work miracles with this horse, completely impressed with her knowledge and the ease with which she worked. When his stomach grumbled, he grinned. “Are you going back to the house for lunch?”
“No. I’m not done with Cider yet. I brought my lunch out here.”
“You’re eating here?”
“Yep, under that tree you were holding up earlier.”
He laughed. “Sounds peaceful.”
She stared into his eyes. “It is.”
“Okay, then, I should get going. Let you have your lunch.”
He turned and began walking.
“There’s enough for two,” she said, a hitch in her throat, as if she couldn’t believe she’d just said that. Hell, if she was inviting, he wouldn’t be refusing.
He turned and smiled. “If it’s Lupe’s leftover fried chicken, I’m taking you up on it.”
“And what if it isn’t?” she asked.
“I’m still staying.”
Ruby’s mouth pulled into a frown as if she was having second thoughts.
“As your friend,” he added.
Her tight expression relaxed, and a glint gleamed in her pretty brown eyes. “I lied. It is chicken, and Lupe packed me way too much.”
“So then, I’d be doing you a favor by staying and eating with you. Wouldn’t want all that food to go to waste.”
She rolled her eyes adorably, and Brooks was glad to see the Ruby of old come back.
She grabbed her backpack, and together they walked over to the tree where swaying branches provided shade on the packed-dirt ground. Ruby tossed her stuff down, but before she sat, he put up his hand. “Wait a sec.”
She stood still, her eyes sharp as he pulled his shirt out of his jeans and began unbuttoning until his white T-shirt was exposed. “Never did like this shirt anyway.” He took off his shirt and made a bit of a production laying it on the ground. Then he gestured to Ruby. “Now you can sit.”
Her expression warmed considerably. “Galahad. You’re too much.”
“That’s what they tell me.”
She plopped herself comfortably down on his shirt so that her perfect behind wouldn’t be ground into the dirt. “Thank you. You know, that’s about the sweetest thing a man’s done for me in a long while.”
“Well then, you’re meeting the wrong kind of men. Present company excluded. And boy, am I glad you’re not into all that feminism stuff, or I’d be dead meat right now.”
She smiled. “Who says I’m not? I believe in the power of women.”
“So do I.”
“But I can also recognize a gentleman when I see one, and I don’t feel like it’s diminishing my role in the world.”
“And this is Texas, after all,” he said.
“Right.”
“And I have developed Southern charm.”
