RJ Scott

Crooked Tree Ranch

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  • janetlim009has quoted9 years ago
    “Five feet give or take.”

    Jay grimaced. “That’s a long way to fall.”

    Nate led Diablo out into the open air and stopped next to another box. “Get on the damn horse,” he said.

    Jay looked at Diablo and recalled what Nate had said. Something about getting on using the left hand side, putting his foot in the stirrup, then swinging up and over. Easy. He’d seen this on TV as well. He’d also seen films where the guys fell off, with feet caught in reins, being dragged to their death. Concentrating on where his foot was going, he used every ounce of his gym-fit muscles to heave himself up and over. In shock, he realized he was sitting atop Diablo and looking down at Nate, who had a look of something on his face that Jay wasn’t convinced was real. He almost looked like he was proud of the move.

    In a few minutes, he explained position and the reins and that mostly Diablo would be happy to follow Juno.

    “You’ll need these and this,” he said. Jay took the proffered thick jacket, gloves, scarf and hat gratefully—he could imagine he’d need both if the Montana wind had its wicked way with his city-soft skin. “You can keep it all—they’re spares.” Nate crossed to Juno and in a smooth move was up onto the horse’s back. With one hand on the reins, he guided Juno next to where Diablo stood. Jeez. Jay thought it was sexy when he saw cowboys on the screen, but having one this close, all scruff and leather and confident, sassy horse riding, Jay was finding it hard to keep it in his pants. Tonight, he re
  • janetlim009has quoted9 years ago
    curry comb and waved it under Nate’s nose. He continued before Jay could say anything. “This is a rubber curry comb—it massages the horse’s muscles. This should be done before and after riding. Then you use a stiffer brush and brush the way the hair grows, not against it.”

    “Got it. Curry comb, stiffer brush, not against the hair.”

    “Watch me,” Nate ordered. “With a flick of your wrist at the end of each brush, any dirt the rubber one brought to the surface is moved away.”

    “Flick,” Jay repeated. Nate looked at him to see if he was taking it all seriously, because if he wasn’t then Nate had words coiled inside him ready to unleash. He seemed to be concentrating and was worrying his lip again. “Will they kick at you?”

    “I’d like to say no, but just be careful what you are doing when the horse can’t see you.”

    “Doing what? Like just standing behind them?”

    “Always make sure they can see you. Then you check the hooves, like this.” Nate demonstrated what needed to be done. “This is to make sure there aren’t any rocks or caked-on dirt that could hurt the horse and cause damage.”

    “You do this every day to the horse?”

    “Every new ride. The horse isn’t some car you can abuse—these are living, breathing friends. Next is tacking your horse. Put the blanket on, covering the horses withers, this bit here, completely.”

    “The ridge between the shoulder blade, that is the withers, got it,” Jay confirmed with a nod.

    “Make sure the horse’s hair is flat. Then put the saddle on.” Juno moved a couple of steps and Nate wished
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