Dad.” Kylie strolled into the barn, yawning but fully dressed and ready to go. The only time she got up willingly was when the day involved horses.
“Hey.”
She had on her good black cowboy hat, her T-shirt with a barrel racer emblazoned on the back and her new jeans, which were already getting too short. Shopping time again. He’d have to see if Sadie’s mom had a trip to Elko planned in the near future. No, maybe he’d take her himself. He didn’t want her in Elko without him just now.
“You look ready.”
She grinned at him. “So do you. Are you up first today?”
“Nope, second.” Del liked to go first. He was the headliner.
“Can Stubby come?” Both Kylie and the young border collie looked at Will hopefully.
Will shook his head. “Not yet.”
“He’ll behave.”
“He’ll eat the interior of my truck.”
“He didn’t eat much the last time.”
No. Just the gearshift knob, but Will wasn’t taking any chances. “Not this time.”
Kylie bent down to explain to the collie that he had to stay home, then she got into the truck as the pup slunk to the porch steps to watch them leave without him.
Will waited as Kylie fastened her seat belt and the surge of protectiveness he felt as he watched her small hands work the latch was almost overwhelming. He knew logically there was probably nothing to worry about, that Brett had been in the area for more than a month and he’d made no attempt to contact them, but paternal instinct and logic did not always jibe. In fact, in Will’s experience they rarely did.
“Ready?” Kylie’s dark eyes were shining with excitement. She loved any and all horse events—especially those that involved her dad. He smiled.
“Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.”
Kylie gave him a patient look. “I know you hate having all those people looking at you, but just imagine them in their underwear.”
“That’s a frightening thought, considering some of the people who will be there.” Kylie grinned. “I’d never thought of it that way. Do you think old Grandpa Meyers wears boxers or briefs?”
“Stop now.”
Kylie started giggling and Will put the truck in Reverse. The day was actually off to a decent start.
REGAN WAS THERE.
He’d been scanning the crowd, while Madison introduced Del, looking for his brother, just in case, when he spotted her on the opposite side of the arena. And then, since it kept his mind off his upcoming performance, he continued to watch her. He’d never seen her in jeans before, but they suited her. And he liked the way her chestnut hair was pulled back in a haphazard non-teacherish ponytail.
She had a notepad balanced on one thigh and from the moment Del stepped into the ring with his horse, her attention was focused on his performance. She jotted notes every couple of seconds, it seemed.
Will watched her as she wrote, wondering if she’d take notes on him, too. He told himself he’d check, but he knew that, once he was in the round pen with the mustang, all his attention would be focused there. It was the only way he ever got through public performances—by pretending the audience wasn’t there. Kylie’s classic underwear strategy didn’t work, primarily because of people like old Grandpa Meyers.
Lunch was the usual free-for-all, with the high school’s FFA club flipping burgers and people hustling Will and Del for free advice.
Just before it was Will’s turn to begin his afternoon performance, he eased away from the person he was talking to and approached Kylie and Sadie in the audience.
“Hey, would you guys do me a favor and stay here during the demonstration? In the front row?”
“Why?”
“I need some feedback and I want you to watch in order to give it.” He pulled the reason out of thin air, but it sounded good and he could see that Kylie liked it.
“Okay.”
“You won’t get bored and wander off?”
“Nope.”
“Good. I expect something constructive.”
“Be careful what you ask for,” Kylie quoted one of his favorite sayings. Will reached out, tapped the brim of her hat down and she laughed.
“Stay put,” he repeated.
WHEN MADISON ANNOUNCED the start of the final demonstration, Will walked to the center of the arena, his short chaps flapping just below his knees, his gaze down, so that it was impossible to see his face under the brim of the cowboy hat. But when he reached Madison, he tilted his hat back, gave a tight-lipped, well-here-I-am smile and looked as if he’d dearly love to be anywhere but where he was.
Madison talked about Will, his background and training strategies, but Will’s eyes were on the chute through which the mare would enter the round pen. There was some banging on the rails, as the horse was pushed into the paneled runway, then she emerged, her eyes round and wild.
She circled the round pen at a full gallop several times before coming to a stop at the side farthest away from the crowd. The rails were too high to jump, but she bunched up as if she was going to try. She continued to dance at the edge of the pen, desperately looking for a way out.
Will stood quietly until the mare threw him a wild glance over her shoulder and snorted. He took a slow step forward and the mare took off, galloping furiously around the pen, her hind feet kicking up divots and her attention outside the rails. Will moved to the center, pivoting as she circled, keeping his eyes on her, waiting for her to slow. When she did, he stepped forward quietly to get her moving again. This time her canter wasn’t quite as wild and every now and then she looked at the man in the center of the pen, trying to read him.
“What Will’s doing is controlling the mare’s movements—showing her that he is the lead animal, the boss,” Madison explained. Will also had a microphone clipped to his collar, but Regan wondered if he even had it turned on. “Horses want to know their place in the hierarchy of the herd and that’s what Will is establishing now. He’ll keep her moving, then give her an opportunity to stop when he wants her to stop.”
The demonstration continued, the crowd watched attentively as Will eventually approached the mare and then touched her. When she turned away from him, he set her moving again, repeating the pattern until she understood that he wouldn’t hurt her but if she didn’t hold still for him she’d have to run. And running was work.
Will continued approaching and backing off, asking her to allow him to do as much as she could tolerate, then releasing pressure by backing away for a moment. In the end, he was able to rub her all over, halter her and saddle her. Madison kept up a running commentary throughout the entire procedure.
Finally, Will stepped away from the mare and walked to the edge of the round pen. The
