Cole Ryder's Arc

Chapter 8 of 9

Cole rose before dawn with Lilly's kiss still fresh in his mind. He drove the blue Dodge to the barn, ready for another lesson. But he heard Spirit before he saw him. The stallion slammed against his stall. His eyes rolled white. A storm had passed overnight, and the thunder had broken something in the horse. When Cole lifted a hand, Spirit shied to the far wall. Weeks of trust, gone in one night. Cole tried the rope. Spirit reared. He tried a slow hand, the way Lilly had taught him. The horse trembled and pinned his ears. Nothing worked. Cole stepped back, breathing hard. He knew he was out of his depth. Lilly arrived and studied the frightened animal through the rails. "He's past what I know," she said. "A scared horse this deep needs someone who's mended a hundred of them." She met Cole's eyes. "Catherine McAllister. She's gentled more spooked horses than anyone in Yellowdust." Cole drove to the McAllister ranch and found the widow in her round pen, red hair loose, working a nervous filly on a long line. She didn't look up until the filly stood calm. "Cole Ryder," she said, a slow smile spreading. "I wondered when you'd come to me for something." Her green eyes moved over him longer than they needed to. "Show me this horse of yours." She rode back with him. In the barn, she took one look at Spirit and clicked her tongue low. "Storm-struck," she said. "He thinks the world's ending." She sent Cole for grain and a soft cloth. Then she stepped into the stall, empty-handed, and simply stood. She hummed. She waited. She let Spirit come to her. "Watch," she told Cole. "You don't chase the fear out. You bore him past it." An hour passed. She never grabbed. She only stayed. Spirit's ears came forward by inches. His head dropped. At last he pressed his nose into Catherine's open palm. "Your turn," she said, waving Cole in. "Slow. Let him choose you." Cole stepped close. He held still the way she showed him. Sweat ran down his back. Spirit snorted, then sniffed his sleeve. The horse leaned his heavy head against Cole's chest. Cole felt the trust come back into his hands. Catherine watched from the rail, arms crossed, pleased. "He'll ride yet," she said. "But that jumpy heart needs steady hands for weeks. Mine." She stepped near Cole, close enough that he smelled hay and her skin. "I'll fix your horse, Cole Ryder. Come to my ranch each morning and I'll teach you what Lilly can't." Cole shook her hand. The deal was struck. Spirit was calm again, and the arc toward riding him held open. But now Cole owed his mornings to a widow who watched him like a prize, while Lilly waited across town wearing his bracelet. When he returns Lilly snuggles onto him in the truck.