All the King's Horses by Lauren Gallagher Page B

serpentines. More walking the track around and around the arena until the place that butterfly had landed wasn’t so terrifying after all. Once he’d calmed down, I urged him on to see if he’d trot or go into a running walk. Or lose his shit. Anything was possible.
    To my surprise, after a moment of dancing and hesitating and chomping at the bit, he transitioned effortlessly into a beautiful, smooth running walk. He bobbed his head in time with his smooth, even gaits, gliding around the arena like he’d never been shod within an inch of his life or mistreated in the name of being flashy in the show ring.
    And I was floored. Simply floored. Yeah, I’d seen him do this at McBride’s, but that could have been a fluke. Yet here he was, doing it again. With a horse like Blue, every small victory was worth celebrating, and this was no small victory. Even if Blue wasn’t yet rideable, his gaits had come a long way since his show days. A long way. Watching him now, you’d never know he’d ever had a reason to associate his running walk with pain, fear and a ridiculous amount of effort just to move his feet. I could say a lot about McBride, especially for getting me to take two horses who couldn’t yet be ridden, but I had to give him credit for this. He must have put in a lot of hours to get this horse to work so well on the ground and without any problems in his gaits.
    Just watching him was breathtaking. It mystified me that anyone would want to ruin such a smooth, beautiful gait—and such a beautiful, sweet horse—in the name of show and flash.
    After a few laps around one half of the arena, I brought Blue down to a walk, steered him the other direction and tried my luck again. Sure enough, right back into that lovely running walk. Goddamn, I couldn’t wait until this horse was okay under saddle.
    I slowed him to a walk again, took him around the ring a few more times to make sure he was good and cooled down. Then I brought him to a halt, praised him and led him back to the barn. First ground-driving lesson down and with only minor problems. The rearing while backing could be resolved with some work. He’d just have to learn to live with the butterflies.
    But that running walk. My God. That alone could make all the headaches worth it.
    As I untacked him and groomed him again, my mother came down the aisle.
    “Hey, Mom,” I said. “What’s up?”
    “Oh, I just saw you bringing the new boy in from outside,” she said. “Thought I’d come down and see how things went.” She approached slowly, holding out her hand. “My goodness, you are a pretty one, aren’t you?”
    “You should see him move.”
    “Is that right?”
    “He’s amazing.” I patted his neck. “Can’t wait to ride him. Someday, anyway.”
    “So how bad is he?” Mom asked.
    “He’s a mess,” I said. “McBride’s kid’s got his arm in a cast from trying to ride him.”
    “Oh Lord.” Mom sighed sharply. “Why in the world did he tell you the horse was ready, then?”
    “Probably just wanted to get rid of him. He’s had him for over a year now.”
    “Is he at least sound?”
    “He’s definitely sound.” I absently tapped my fingers on my elbow. “And his gaits are beautiful. God, Mom, his running walk…” I clicked my tongue and shook my head. “I would kill to ride that, let me tell you.”
    “Yes, well.” Mom eyed Blue. “Sounds like he might kill someone before that happens.”
    “No,” I said. “It’ll just take some time. He’ll get there.”
    She released an, impatient sigh. “Son—”
    “Mom, I can handle him.”
    “I know you can,” she said. “It’s him, the other two, and all the other horses I’m concerned about. You keep this up, you’re gonna have to bring in an assistant trainer—which you cannot afford—just to make sure all your paid clients are taken care of while you’re messing around with these rescues.”
    “I’ll figure something out.” I patted Blue’s neck and smiled. “I