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Taking the Reins(4)

By:Kat Murray


Red pulled up to Three Trees thirty minutes later in his beat-up rig. He smiled as he heard the truck sigh, as if with relief, when he hopped down with the vitamins in hand. The vehicle was ancient, and ugly as sin. But it ran, and he had no need for anything nicer. His horse trailer, currently in the garage, was a tricked out piece of work. But that was a completely different story. A horse’s comforts were priority number one. He could drive anything, long as it ran well enough.

“Red. Took longer than I thought.”

He turned to see Chris Tanner striding his way. And the regret that he’d be leaving hit harder than he’d thought it would. Tucking his tongue in his cheek, he nodded. “Ran into a few folks at the store.” Nothing more needed to be said on that front.

“Well then. Ready to head over?” Tanner inclined his head toward one of the workout areas. “Boys have Fire all saddled up and ready to show off.”

“That’s the problem,” Red said mildly. “Y’all let Fire think he’s supposed to show off. Horse has a big head. He’s there to work. Do his job.”

“So you say. Repeatedly.”

“Because it’s true. You go back to that mind-set, you go back to the problems.”

Tanner just shook his head and took the shortcut through the stable, boot heels clicking on the clean cement floor.

Red didn’t bother explaining it again, as he had countless times before. There was no use. The man would either follow through with the training, or he wouldn’t. Nothing Red could say would change it at this point. Once his paycheck was cut, his work was done. Crying shame though, how some people refused to accept the help they paid for. Waste. They hired him for the name, the prestige. The ones that used his knowledge walked away with a good deal. The ones who didn’t, well . . . The best he could say was it didn’t hurt him any. It was their problem if they refused to follow through.

He headed for the barn himself, taking his time, saying hello to each pretty lady that stuck her head over the stall door in greeting. He couldn’t hold back a chuckle as he reached the end of the line and Daffodil, his favorite Three Trees mare, nudged him extra hard.

“No treats today. Sorry sweetheart.” He would have sworn she rolled her eyes in feminine disappointment before he scratched between her ears. That brought a sigh of contentment. “Maybe later, girl.” With a final pat, he headed on toward Tanner, who was standing in front of the workout pen. And he watched in silence as the cowboy led Fire through a series of exercises meant to work both man and horse to the limit.

“Looks good. Right? Looking better every day. I’d say he’s just about fixed now. Damn fine horse.”

“Nothing was ever wrong with the horse. Just the humans working with him.” As usual. Ninety percent of his job was spent fixing human error, not equine.

“Yeah, well, now we’ve got it all ironed out.”

Red just nodded and stayed silent.

“He’s gonna be ready for the Premium Rodeo this summer. Right?”

“I think that’s a fair assessment. Long as you keep up the work we’ve started.” Red watched as Fire responded to the leg commands, shifting quickly around the obstacle course of barrels and cones, not touching a one.

All it took was knowing the horse wouldn’t listen to jerking on the reins to turn the entire situation around. That and a little common sense had Fire on the right track to be a damn fine rodeo horse.

Tanner had also asked Red to take over the stable’s training operations, set them up for a successful future. All a part of the Red Callahan experience. But now . . .

“Time for me to move on.”

Tanner’s moustache quivered. “What the hell you talkin’ bout? We’re just getting started. With Fire here ready to take some top titles, we’re only just beginning. What’s this movin’ on crap all about?”

“It was always temporary. Said that from the start. That’s why we never had the long-term contract. We agreed going in that when I thought it was time, I’d head out. And I gave you the warning three weeks ago.” Red leaned back against the rails, hooked one heel over the bottom rung. Every time, they went through this. Same conversation, different owner. “Plus, you have a full-time trainer. I was only ever here for the temporary fixes.”

“Three weeks ago? Hell, I didn’t know you were serious. Thought you enjoyed it enough to stay. I’ll make it worth your while.” Clint fingered the tip of his mustache, a gesture Red knew meant the man was thinking too hard. “I’ll double what I’m paying ya. Hell, with your already-inflated rates, that’s a gold mine for a trainer!”