There was a long strap coming off of the ends of the bit in a loop. He guessed that was the rein. And he guessed the horn was the upright thing at the front end of the saddle. Like a handle, for holding on with. Ellie was busy pulling the stirrups down into place, walking right under the mare's belly from one side to the other.
"Now lift me up," she said. "I need to check everything."
He held her under the arms and lifted her into the saddle. She felt tiny and weighed nothing at all. The horse was way too wide for her, and her legs came out more or less straight on each side. She lay down forward and stretched her arms out and checked all the buckles. Redid some of them. Tucked the loose ends away. Pulled the mane hair out neatly from under the straps. Gripped the saddle between her legs and jerked herself from side to side, checking for loose movement.
"It's O.K.," she said. "You did very good."
She put her arms out to him and he lifted her down. She was hot and damp.
"Now just lead her out," she said. "Hold her at the side of her mouth. If she won't come, give her a yank."
"Thanks a million, kid," he said. "Now go hide again, O.K.?"
She scrambled back up the stack of hay bales and he tugged at a strap coming off a metal ring at the side of the mouth. The mare didn't move. He clicked his tongue and pulled again. The mare lurched forward. He jumped ahead and she got herself into some kind of a rhythm behind him. Clop, clop, clop. He led her out of the stall and pulled her around the corner and headed for the door. Let her come ahead to his shoulder and stepped with her into the yard. She walked easily. He adjusted to her pace. His arm was neatly bent at the elbow and her head was rocking up and down a little and her shoulder was brushing gently against his. He walked her across the yard like he'd done it every day of his life. Roy Rogers, eat your damn heart out.
Bobby Greer was back on the porch steps, waiting. The mare walked right up to him and stopped. Reacher held the little leather strap while Bobby checked all of the same things Ellie had. He nodded.
"Not bad," he said.
Reacher said nothing.
"But you took longer than I expected."
Reacher shrugged. "I'm new to them. I always find it's better to go slow, the first time. Until they're familiar with me."
Bobby nodded again. "You surprise me. I would have bet the farm the nearest you'd ever gotten to a horse was watching the Preakness on cable."
"The what?"
"The Preakness. It's a horse race."
"I know it is. I was kidding."
"So maybe it's a double surprise," Bobby said. "Maybe my sister-in-law was actually telling the truth for once."
Reacher glanced at him. "Why wouldn't she be?"
"I don't know why. But she hardly ever does. You need to bear that in mind."
Reacher said nothing. Just waited.
"You can go now," Bobby said. "I'll put her away when I'm through."
Reacher nodded and walked away. He heard a crunch of leather behind him, which he assumed was Bobby getting up into the saddle. But he didn't look back. He just walked through the yard, down past the barn, past the corrals, and around the corner of the bunkhouse to the foot of the stairway. He intended to go straight up and take a long shower to get rid of the terrible animal smell that was clinging to him. But when he got up to the second story, he found Carmen sitting on his bed with a set of folded sheets on her knees. She was still in her cotton dress, and the sheets glowed white against the skin of her bare legs.
"I got you these," she said. "From the linen closet in the bathroom. You're going to need them. I didn't know if you would realize where they were."
He stopped at the head of the stairs, one foot inside the room, the other foot still on the last tread.
"Carmen, this is crazy," he said. "You should get out, right now. They're going to realize I'm a phony. I'm not going to last a day. I might not even be here on Monday."
"I've been thinking," she said. "All the way through supper."