Christmas Kisses with My Cowboy - Diana Palmer Page 0,13
hitch again.”
She groaned.
“Might as well learn these things. You’ll need to know them in order to be able to ride.”
“There’s bridles, and all sorts of bits, and ways to cinch a horse, and what to do if he blows his belly out when you tighten it . . . I can’t remember all that!”
“You’ll learn it because we’ll go over and over it until the repetition keeps it in your mind,” he said. “Like muscle memory.”
“Dad talked about that,” Teddie recalled. “He said it saved his life once when he was overseas and he got jumped by three insurgents. He said he didn’t even think about what he needed to do, he just did it. He learned it when he was in boot camp.”
“That’s where all of us learned it,” Parker said complacently. He indicated the horse. “And that’s how you’ll learn what you need to know about how to take care of Bart and ride him: muscle memory.”
She laughed. “Okay. I’ll do my best.”
“That’s all anybody can do,” he replied warmly.
Chapter Three
Teddie was a quick study. She mastered the preparations for riding and was now learning how to get on a horse properly.
“There are all these programs that tell you to get on a stump or a stepladder so you don’t overburden the horse’s back. But you’re small enough that it won’t matter. Ready?”
She grimaced. She looked up to the pommel of the Western saddle she’d put on Bartholomew with Parker’s instructions. “It’s a long way up there,” she said doubtfully.
He laughed. “I guess it is, squirt. Okay. Lead him over here.”
Teddie led him to a stump near the porch, positioned Bart on one side of it, put her foot into the stirrup, and sprung up onto his back.
The horse moved restlessly, but Parker had the bridle. “It’s okay, old man,” he said softly, offering a treat on the palm of his hand.
Bart hesitated, but only for a moment before he took it. Parker smoothed over the blaze that ran down his forehead. “Good boy.” He glanced at Teddie, who looked nervous. “You have to be calm,” he instructed. “Horses, like dogs and cats, can sense when we’re unsettled. They respond to emotions, sometimes badly. Give him a minute to settle down. And whatever you do, don’t jerk the reins. Riding is mostly in your legs. Use your legs to tell him when to go, when to stop, which way to turn. The bridle gives you more control, but your legs are where your focus needs to be,” he said as he adjusted her stirrup length.
“I have little scrawny legs, though,” she said worriedly.
He smiled. “You’ll do fine.”
He had a calming nature, Teddie thought, because the words relaxed her. She noticed that Bart reacted to it. He tossed his head, but his ears stayed turned to the front, not the back. It was only dangerous when a horse had both ears flattened, because that meant trouble.
Teddie stroked his mane. “Sweet horse,” she said softly. “I’m so happy I got you, Bart.”
He seemed to relax even more.
“Okay. Contract your legs at the knee and see if he’ll respond by going forward.”
He did.
“Wow!” she exclaimed softly.
Parker chuckled. “Good job. Now, when you want him to turn left, put more pressure on your left leg and move the bridle very gently to the left. You don’t want to hurt his mouth.”
“Okay.” She followed the instruction and so did Bart. “This is awesome,” she said.
“Horses are awesome,” Parker agreed. “Try turning him the other way. Same procedure.”
She did. Bart followed through beautifully.
“How do I tell him to stop?” she asked.
“You pull back very gently on the reins.”
She did that, and Bart stopped in his tracks.
“Nice job,” Parker said.
“Can we go riding now?” she asked.
He smiled at her excitement. “Not just yet. First things first. You have to know what to do in case of an emergency. That’s the next lesson. But we have to stop for now. Boss man is bringing over a few new horses for the remuda and I have to work with them.”
“It’s so nice of you to help me with Bart,” Teddie said as she dismounted cautiously. “I could never have done this by myself.”
“I love horses,” Parker said. “It’s no trouble. I enjoy working with this sweet old man, too,” he added, patting the horse’s withers. “So let’s get him unsaddled and back into his stall.”
“I’m with you,” she said, and followed him back into the stable.
* * *
“How are you doing with Bartholomew?” Katy asked at supper