Eyes of Silver, Eyes of Gold (26 page)

She bit her lower lip. Trusting is the hardest part. “I believe you.”

“All right then. Want to help?”

She nodded, unable to see how she could help. They returned to the horse’s stall, to John Stone’s sarcastic, “Strategy all planned?” Anne controlled an urge to slap him. Cord didn’t seem to hear.

The horse was still standing along the back wall of the stall, motionless, ears slightly back. Cord’s instructions horrified Anne, but she took the position he indicated, as did Mrs. Stone.

“Now, I’m going to stand with my back to him. Mrs. Stone, you start telling me everything you can remember about when you saw him back East. Every detail. He’s going to come at me, and you do your best to just keep talking when he does in a normal voice. Don’t jump. Don’t scream. Doesn’t matter what you say right then. Try to keep it conversational is all. Annie, keep your eyes on him. He’s going to pin his ears when he comes. Not just a little, they’ll flatten right out on his head. When you see that, you move your hand, like this.” He demonstrated.

Anne heard Mrs. Stone’s voice droning on and on and couldn’t understand a word. She stared at the big red monster until her eyes hurt, and then the ears went! She waved her hand instantly, clamping down on her already aching jaw even harder to keep from crying out.

Cord was positioned in the doorway so that the horse could only come at one side, and he whirled and smashed the stallion in the mouth again, with the same result.

Anne could see Mrs. Stone trembling and knew she was doing the same.

Cord said, “That’s good. Now we do it again. This time he’s probably going to mosey over looking as innocent as he can and take a good look at me. He’ll get close and then try it again. Watch his ears.”

The women watched wide-eyed, Mrs. Stone no longer making good sense in her nervous attempts at ordinary sounding speech. The horse meandered closer and closer, nosing the bedding and trying to look uninterested in the man. Near the stall door his nostrils dilated as he took deep suspicious breaths. Then the ears pinned. Cord didn’t have time to turn. He smashed the horse with an elbow in about the same place.

Anne just managed to suppress a moan. “Now what,” she whispered.

“Try it again. We’ll give him half an hour. If he comes again, Mr. Stone is right - best thing is to shoot him.”

Mrs. Stone took up her nervous recitation again, steadied by questions from Cord, and finally, he questioned Lennie about the horse’s behavior. Young and cocky, Lennie was not pleased to see this man unafraid of the horse that terrified him. He was sullen and uncooperative, giving monosyllabic answers, but the half hour passed.

The horse had moved up behind Cord and was looking him over and testing his scent, but made no further move toward him. Cord walked in the stall and attached a rope to the horse’s halter with no fuss. When he tied the animal and began running a brush over him, Mrs. Stone said, “He kicks.”

“Bet not.”

He was right. The horse lifted a hind leg several times but never tried a kick. Minutes later Cord had his saddle off Keeper and on the stallion. He rejected the bridle Lennie held out and asked for one as similar as possible to what the horse was ridden with back East. With this on the horse’s head, he began to gently play with the reins. In seconds the horse’s ears were pinned flat to his head and fury was in every line. The bridle came off.

“Annie, get the bridle in the saddle bags, will you?” Cord’s saddle was stripped down in anticipation of riding the stallion. The only saddle bags were on Lady.

She ran. The crowd outside was restless and noisy, but had grown, not diminished. With his own bridle on the horse, Cord began to play with the reins again.

Mrs. Stone objected, “But that’s a colt bridle. He’s gone through the fence with quite severe bits. You’ll never hold him with that.”

Cord didn’t even answer. Almost right away Anne could see a difference. The horse’s ears were flicking uncertainly, but he was no longer hardening his jaw and sticking his nose straight out with every touch of a rein. “How many people were around the day you saw him ridden?”

Anne knew he was wondering about the effect of the crowd on the horse.

Mrs. Stone said, “Quite a few, really. There was a hunt that morning. And they were very noisy. It was a cold morning and there was some brandy passed around.”

“Let’s go see.” He walked the horse out of the barn and headed for the smallest of the fenced riding areas. As he walked out with the horse, the noise of the onlookers subsided. Anne followed along with the Stones, taking up a position right beside the gate. She watched Cord walk along beside the horse, still gently twitching and feeling the reins as the animal walked around. Suddenly she was surrounded by Bennetts.

“That took a while.” Frank was looking not at her but at his brother.

She needed to tell somebody. “It was awful. That horse really is vicious. I wish I could go back and relive last Sunday, and we wouldn’t be here.”

Frank said, “The thing you’ve got to learn is that Cord’s meaner than most of what he comes up against. You were worried about him the day he half-killed those poor yahoos too, if I remember.”

Anne clamped her mouth into a hard straight line. Frank probably wouldn’t be bothered a bit if the damn horse stomped his brother. Surely the Bennetts couldn’t be any more aggravating, but then Luke proved her wrong.

He said, “Most people are betting he won’t even have the nerve to get on that killer, you know.”

Anne forced words through tight lips. “What do you mean, ‘betting’?”

“The real thing. There’s a lot of money going around. Most people think he won’t even try to ride the horse. Some say he’ll try and get thrown. Windon says he’ll get it done. Personally, the way he fiddles around with horses, I figure he will ride it - someday.”

Anne turned to Frank, doing her best to hide anger behind a polite smile. “When I left home I had twenty dollars, but I don’t have it with me. Would you loan me twenty dollars until Sunday?”

Frank pulled twenty dollars from his pocket and handed it to her without a word.

“Thank you, Frank. Now, Luke, I’ve never placed a bet. Would you or Pete bet this for me? Bet it that he’ll ride that horse.”

“Ah, come on, to win the bet he has to really ride it, not just be on it when it goes through the fence.”

Before Anne could draw breath to answer, Frank intervened. “Just go bet the money for her, son.” Luke gave his father an uncertain look. “Go.” Shaking his head, Luke went and got Pete from a few feet off, and the two disappeared into the crowd.

Anne could see that Cord was no longer just walking beside the horse but directing it. They stopped, began again, turned each way. Time passed. The crowd was bored and getting louder once more. The horse halted, as it had a dozen times, but this time Cord eased into the saddle so smoothly some of the watchers, involved in their own conversations, didn’t immediately notice.

Soon all eyes were on the big red horse and the lithe figure in the saddle. The horse continued to walk quietly, following the same patterns it had with Cord on the ground. Moments later he eased into a trot and began to execute more little circles, turns, and patterns, the same ones he had Anne put Lady through. The horse dropped back to an easy walk then was off again around the pen’s perimeter at a relaxed canter. After a few small circuits of the pen’s perimeter, the horse glided through the center of the pen, effortlessly changing his leading leg as he changed direction.

Anne loved to watch Cord ride. He was straight in the saddle, not in a stiff military fashion but in a relaxed, easy way. No matter how complicated the maneuver he put a horse through, his cues were almost too subtle to be seen. He was always still and quiet, very much one with the horse. She felt the tension drain away. He was right. He wasn’t going to get hurt.

He brought the horse back to a walk and stopped in front of the Stones. John Stone did not look particularly happy at the success of this venture. Virginia Stone looked ecstatic.

Leaning one arm casually on the saddle horn, Cord ignored John and addressed Virginia. “Ma’am, if you’ve been exercising this horse enough he’s muscled up, I’d sure like to ride him outside. This is the best horse I’ve ever been on.”

Mrs. Stone’s smile faltered, and she looked nervous again, but she nodded jerkily. Frank swung the gate open. Cord took the horse to the big open area where the Stones and their friends played polo and began to experiment with what the stallion could do.

Anne watched lead changes, side passes, half passes, and pirouettes with growing delight. Concentrating on the graceful figure in the saddle, she didn’t realize Frank was beside her again until she heard his voice.

“Have you see him ride like that before?”

“Yes. He’s shown me things on both Keeper and Lady, but this horse is so beautiful. It’s impressive with Keeper, but not like this.”

The patterns were beginning to flow together until it looked as if the horse were dancing.

Frank spoke again, “That’s two things he got a lot better at those years he was away.”

Anne didn’t move her eyes but asked, “What’s the other?”

“Fighting.”

Anne took several steps forward then, letting Frank know she wasn’t pursuing the subject and getting closer to admire both the horse and her man. Cord was on the far side of the graded area now and turned the horse straight towards her. Backlit by the sun, he was an erect dark shadow on the red horse with its halo of fire. His eyes were invisible but she could feel them fastened on her, compelling.

Breathless, Anne watched the horse bearing straight towards her, changing leading leg every other stride. It was the most difficult maneuver he had ever demonstrated for her, and she knew this was for her, a gift. The stallion turned only feet from her, cantered by. It ended too soon. All at once he was on the ground, walking toward her, as cat-like as the horse in his own way.

“Come on, Ti-gress, we’d better tell Mrs. Stone what’s wrong with her horse.”

Anne had no idea what was wrong with the horse, but walked beside him, stifling an urge to skip. He wasn’t hurt, he’d ridden the horse, and all these fool people were disappointed once more.

She listened to Cord explain to Mrs. Stone that the sellers had misled her as to the horse’s bitting and how he thought they’d done it. Exceptionally sensitive, the horse fought, and when they tried to control him with more severe bits, he fought harder. Resentment eventually affected even his attitude in the stall, and when people who were afraid of him began pushing him around with a broom or shovel, everything escalated. He never glanced at Lennie as he said this.

Mrs. Stone was not happy. “But I ride all my horses in double bridles with curb bits. A plain snaffle is too crude for the kind of riding I do.”

Anne almost interrupted to point out that considering the demonstration she had just seen, this was patently ridiculous, but managed to bite her tongue. Of course, Cord didn’t point it out.

He said, “Well, ma’am, the horse is touchy, and he’s always going to be that way.”

“Could you get him to go properly with a curb bit? I’ll pay you well, or you can have additional breedings if you’d prefer.”

“Yeah, I can, but you should realize he’s always going to be an extra sensitive horse. He might not be something you’re going to want to bother with.”

“I see.” She was frowning, obviously not happy with any of this. “Well, suppose you take him and at least get him to where he can be safely ridden, and then if I don’t like him for myself, I’ll be able to sell him. I certainly can’t do that the way he is now.”

Cord glanced at Anne, who wiggled her eyebrows in a “whatever you want” kind of way.

“It will take about two months,” he said. “Suppose we breed one mare for each month.”

Virginia Stone held out one slim gloved hand, and they again shook hands. John Stone looked absolutely disgusted as they rode out, Cord leading the big red horse beside Keeper.

The whole Bennett clan was waiting for them at the end of the driveway. “How about lunch at our house?” asked Ephraim.

Cord had mentioned a steak at the cafe to Anne earlier, but then they hadn’t expected to be bringing the stallion home with them. He said, “Yeah, sounds good, if we can put the red horse in a stall in your barn.”

Anne knew right then that Cord was no more going to refer to this stallion as “Firebrand” than he would call Willie “Sweet William.”

So it was off to Ephraim’s for lunch. When they were all in their familiar places around the table, Luke pulled a small sheaf of twenty-dollar bills from his pocket and presented them to her with a flourish. “Here’s your ill-gotten gains, ma’am.”

Anne had forgotten the bet. “But I only bet twenty dollars.”

“The odds were five to one.”

She had only the vaguest concept of odds, and Luke happily enlightened her. At the end of his explanation, she heard Cord drawl in a way she didn’t like the sound of at all, “Where’d you get twenty dollars, Annie?”

“I borrowed from Frank - against my Grenerton money.” Reminded by her own words, she handed one of the twenties to Frank.

There was a lot of chatter over lunch, but it was mostly Pete and Luke reviewing the morning’s happenings. Anne was as quiet as Cord, and when Martha and Judith refused her help with the dishes, they left immediately. In the barn, Cord turned on her as she’d known he would.