6 Chapter 5

The chair I was sitting rocked side to side as I nervously swiveled it around in place. It was a really bad habit of mine, but a fun one. Hawks sat on the other side of the desk, observing me.

"We should probably discuss the training conditions."

I jumped slightly when he spoke first.

"Um...yeah..." I paused for a second. "What are the conditions on your side?"

Hawks offered a small smile.

"I need you to train my horse," he stood up and walked around to my side of the desk, gripped the edges of my chair, spun it to where I was facing him, and he leaned down to reach my eye level, "and myself."

We stared at each other for a moment, my dull blue eyes gazing into his dazzling brown ones. I had never seen a set of brown eyes with so much depth, so many layers. Light and dark hues set next to each other, with the slightest hints of black and green flecks. He blinked, and the moment was gone.

Hawks stood up straight and walked back over to his own seat.

Before he could talk, I spoke.

"We may have a problem."

He waited silently.

"I am no longer in the jumping circuit. I can't train you or your horse in show jumping. I've given up on that event."

Hawks nodded slowly. "Is it because of what happened at that show?"

"Yes. I don't ever want to put another horse in that kind of danger ever again."

He smirked. "I guess it's a good thing that jumping isn't what I came to you for."

Confusion crossed my expression.

"Then what do you want me to coach you in?"

"What were you doing in that video?"

I thought back to the video.

"That was more complicated than an average class. That pattern was a cross of multiple different disciplines."

He nodded slowly. "So what does that mean?"

I took a different approach.

"What disciplines of riding are you familiar with?"

"Well, I know dressage, show jumping, eventing, general horsemanship, and...that's it, really."

"And that's your problem." I leaned back in my chair.

As much as I looked up to this man, as much as I idolized him, he seemed like he could be a spontaneous idiot sometimes. I mean, how could he expect to come in here with his English-based training, and try to learn an entirely new discipline?! And to top it, he doesn't want to just learn one new discipline, he wants to learn a whole bunch of new disciplines. I sighed and rested my face in the palm of my hand.

"Why is that a problem?"

"Because you are asking me to teach you and your horse a completely new style of riding. I'm sure that you may pick it up easily, but your horse may have a few more troubles adapting to the new style than you may think."

He looked confused.

"Your horse is trained to do the English disciplines. If I were to try to train him to do the Western disciplines, then he would most likely either lose the previous training he had, or you two would become the laughing stock of the entire equestrian competitive world."

Realization bloomed in those brown eyes of his.

"Then what horse are we going to use?"

I thought about it for a moment.

"I don't know yet. I'll have to try to find you a match. But for now, I know that Lynn may let you borrow some of her horses to learn and train on."

Hawks was practically bouncing in his seat. "When do we start?"

I looked at the time. "Well, it's only 10 in the morning. How about we start after lunch? I still have a horse that I need to get out before then."

He nodded, and we shook hands.

"I'll be sure to write up a contract tonight so that we have everything on paper."

"That sounds perfect."

We both exited the office.

"What would you like me to do until lunch?"

I waved my hand dismissively, already heading over to Karma's stall.

"You could get your horse out or watch. It doesn't really matter, as long as you don't distract me from training too much." Since I couldn't see him, I didn't know what his response was.

I walked into Karma's stall, and receive a soft nicker. I chuckled and approached her slowly. She still had that stubborn look in her eyes, but it wasn't nearly as hard of a glare as before.

I threw the rope over her neck and haltered the mare. She followed me to cross-ties quietly, almost as if she was waiting for me to get back to ride her.

The black curry comb in my hand rubbed vigorous circles on her coat. Karma was shedding, and the creamy-copper hair was falling off like crazy. Going from her head to her tail on one side, the ground had piles of the soft brown substance. I switched side and repeated the process.

I threw the curry into the bucket with the other curries and grabbed a hard and a soft body brush. Going in the direction of her hair, I flicked the hard bristles of the brush over her coat, leaving miniscule lines from the bristles, and getting off more hair and dirt. When brushing under her belly, she stomped her hind leg in retaliation, to which I responded with a scolding little smack on her belly with the palm of my hand and an ugly-sound "Quit it." I completed this task on both sides of the horse and moved on to the soft body brush. With this brush, I quickly whisked it over every single part of Karma that I could get to. This brush smoothed out the hair and left it shiny. Next, I grabbed a hoof pick and cleaned out her feet. By doing this, I could check for any rocks and dirt that might be packed into her hoof, and remove it, and check for any loose shoes. If I didn't get her feet entirely picked out, then it could result in Karma getting an abscess, thrush, or even some other problems that I wouldn't want to deal with.

I stood up after picking out her last hoof, and stretched my back backward, hearing a sequence of satisfying pops running down my spine.

I put the hoof pick away and went to grab a saddle pad. Finding one without shims, since Lynn is so anal about her saddles fitting her horses properly (a preference taught to us by our coach growing up), I threw it on Karma's back.

Going into the nearby tack room, I looked at all the saddles that Lynn had. I wasn't very comfortable in the saddle that I rode in last time, but I didn't really get the chance to change it out for a different one. Blue Ribbon, Kathy's Equipment, Herford, Crates, Circle Y, Colusa, Earl Twist, Billy Royal...all of these brands and flashy saddles stood out to me, but they weren't the one that I wanted. I came to end of the row, and finally found an old, slightly beaten up saddle.

The saddle horn binding was starting to come undone, and the saddle skirt was round and completely unattractive. Dirt and dust covered the saddle and the seat. Obviously, this saddle hasn't been used for a very long time. I dusted off the latigo holder to check the brand. Blue Ribbon. Perfect, this was the saddle that I was looking for. Even though it was the same brand as some of the other saddles in Lynn's tack room, this one I knew was different since it was originally my saddle. I took the old 1996 Blue Ribbon and unlatched the cinch in order to put it over the seat. The rings and snaps that were on the saddle for training purposes jingled as I carried it over to the patiently waiting mare.

Once on the left side of Karma, I crouched down a smidgen, facing towards her tail. With a grunt, I swung the saddle up and over her back with enough force that the stirrup wouldn't get caught under the saddle, and gently settled it on her back.

Flipping the cinch over to its correct position, I walked behind the sorrel mare to peak at the cinch laying flatly against the horse's barrel. Resuming my previous position at the latigo, I unwound the slightly stiff leather strap and reached for the cinch. The latigo was dropped down into the D-ring on the cinch, caught, and then pulled back up to loop up through the D-ring on the saddle, only to drop down through the cinch's D-ring to repeat the process. All of my movements to cinch up the saddle were smooth and like fluid, without any trace of hesitation or struggle. Many years of built up muscle memory made it possible.

When the cinch was sufficiently snug enough to safely last the walk to the arena, I buckled the latigo into the cinch and tucked the extra away into the latigo holder.

Shifting to the right, I lifted the stirrup to check the length. There was a little number 11 in a circle showing above the Blevins Buckle, right where I wanted it. I moved on to the tack room and grabbed the slow twist, sweet iron snaffle bit with the D-rings that I knew the mare used and went back to the mare.

I grabbed her lead rope, put it over her neck, and took Karma off of the crossties. The reins from the bridle were rested over her neck, and the halter was unbuckled and joining the reins on the mare's neck. With my right hand holding the bridle from the top of the headstall, and my left guiding the bit, I started the process of bridling the mare.

My right arm rested above her neck and between her ears, and my left hand dropped down to line the bit up with her lips. Noticing the mare didn't go for the bit, I pressed the bit against her lips, and stuck my thumb in her mouth, putting a minimal amount of pressure on a gap where there were no teeth. Karma resisted slightly before opening her mouth, and only then was I able to get the bit in her mouth and over her tongue without hitting her teeth on the bit.

My right hand pulled the bridle up to hold the bit in her mouth while my left hand situated the headstall over her ears. The right ear was pushed forward through the headstall first, the left following after. That was when I finally let the headstall rest on her head.

Latching the throat latch with a four finger gap was all that was left, and then we were ready to ride. I glanced at my watch. It only took about 15 minutes to get the horse ready.

I removed the halter and lead rope from the mare's neck and hung them on the wall. The reins were pulled off her neck, and we were moving once again, in the direction of the arena.