Authors: Rowan Speedwell
“What’s interesting is that a lot of times, particularly when we’re dealing with cases of abuse, a woman might have a better chance getting through to the animal than a man, simply because women don’t look, sound, or smell like men. Statistically speaking, men are guilty of animal abuse far more often than women, so women have an edge when dealing with abused animals. I wish Jenny were still here to show you—she’s gone off to Kansas to work there, but she was one of my best trainers. Not enough women go into the field, though, so you might not ever run into one. Best to learn to handle them on your own.
“Now, we’ve gone through working with the culled mustangs, but we ain’t had a chance to work with tamed animals that have been abused. So Spot here—don’t look at me, I didn’t name him—at one point was a decent saddle horse, until he got it beat out of him. His owner got reported to the local ASPCA, which is how he ended up here. He’s not a bad horse, not spoiled, not aggressive, just scared. He’s only been here a week, so he’s still not certain of what’s going on. He’s still scared.”
The whole time he was talking, Eli kept his attention on the horse. He didn’t illustrate his speech with hand movements, he didn’t turn his back, and he didn’t change the soothing tone of the voice. Joshua watched in approval the way the horse reacted. His body shifted from high alert to cautious; the head came down to a level position, the eyes went from having white circles to being all brown again, the nostrils stayed wide, but less flared.
Still talking, Eli eased down into a balanced crouch. He looked like he could get knocked over easily, but Joshua suspected he was in fact as solid and grounded as if he were seated.
The paint shook its head, but stayed put.
Eli shifted slowly to a seated position, his legs folding beneath him Indian-fashion. “As y’all know, if you make yourself smaller than an animal, it has less fear of you. Now, I’m gonna tell you something y’all should know about the way a horse sees the world. See how their eyes are set on the sides of their heads, so as to give them a wider field of vision? That makes it so they have a blind spot right smack dab in front of them, close in. Plus, the distortion in the field means that when they
do
see something in front of them, because it’s farther away, it’s gonna look out of proportion big. So you don’t startle ’em by popping up right under their nose, and you want to make yourself small enough that they’re not afraid of you. Trouble is, you don’t want to do this if you think you’re likely to get stomped, because a horse
can
kill you, so it’s a decision you gotta make based on your experience with the animal. Spot here—I ain’t never seen him react aggressive like that, so I’m gonna trust him not to stomp me into powder.” He folded his hands and waited.
Joshua smiled when, a minute or so later, the paint took the last few steps toward Eli, and knocked his hat off to snuffle his hair. Eli didn’t move, but started crooning nonsense words to the horse, and it bent its head to butt his nose against Eli’s chest. Eli reached up slowly and scratched the horse’s cheek.
“Son of a bitch,” Joshua breathed. “That is fucking amazing.”
“Yeah, he is,” Tucker agreed from beside him. Joshua had been so intent on Eli he hadn’t noticed his uncle approaching. They both kept their voices low.
“Is it true what he says, about the way they see?”
“Yep. Sometimes if a horse is charging you, you stand up tall, wave your arms and your hat around, and they see this giant the size of a windmill and shear off. They ain’t very bright.”
“But you love them. And so does Eli.”
“Hell, yes.” Tucker watched as Eli spent a few minutes getting acquainted with the notoriously skittish horse, then said, “They’re dumb and spooky, but they’re lovable critters.”
“Spooky? What’s spooky about them?”
“Oh, not spooky like Halloween spooky. I mean they spook easy. We had a couple dogs around here. Mutts, but good dogs. Rosey and Rambo. Rosey died of old age, and Rambo started getting fussy with the horses. Just wanted to play—he was Rosey’s grandson, and still kind of a pup—but it scared the stock. He was lonesome. I had to find him a new home.” Tucker thought a moment, then added honestly, “Eli’d a found you in the desert a sight sooner if we still had Rambo. He was part hound. Wasn’t sure what the rest was—maybe coyote, maybe wolf, maybe just traveling salesman. At any rate, I still miss ’em. I been thinking about getting another pair.”
“Instead, you got me. Don’t know that there’s much of an improvement.”
“Well,” Tucker said thoughtfully, “y’ ain’t much at trackin’. But at least you don’t scare the horses.”
Joshua elbowed him and grinned. His uncle grinned back.
E
LI
finished the lesson and turned Spot over to Jesse, as the more experienced student, to start working with. Seeing Joshua standing with Tucker at the fence, he said to the others, “You met Tuck last night, but I don’t think you met his nephew. He’s just come out from Chicago.”
Spencer, the young man from Kentucky, was polite, but he held Josh’s hand long enough for Eli to feel uncomfortable. The older guy, Patrick, was more courteous and interested in talking to them about horses. Eli found himself drawn off by Patrick and Tucker, which was fine, until he turned his head to see Joshua and Spencer following behind, Spencer’s head a little too close to Joshua’s. A sick feeling shot through him, one he couldn’t identify right away. But when a recognizable emotion—relief—replaced it as he watched Joshua distance himself politely from the young man, Eli realized what it had been.
Jealousy.
Oh, son,
he thought,
you are in so much trouble….
When Tucker asked him who he recommended work with Spencer, Eli almost gave him the name of the worst-behaved horse in the stables, but his usual sense of fairness overtook him and he suggested one of the others, one that was more up to Spencer’s weight, both physically and emotionally. Tucker agreed, and led the two trainees off to get them set up with their new charges.
“Which one of you is going to be teaching them?” Joshua asked as he followed Eli into the small barn. He watched as Eli checked the feed in each of the stalls.
“Both. Tucker will start, working with horses that have basic skills but have been abused or neglected. These guys both have experience with training, but watching them work with the skittish ones will give him an idea of their strengths and weaknesses—let him figure out how he should approach their specific education. Tuck takes that part because not only does he have more experience with abused horses, he’s better with people. I’m better with gentling the wild ones. I’ll pick up the work when we start the wild horse training, with the ones from the last cull that we’ve got here. We’ve got a half dozen two- and three-year-old colts from the herd you saw yesterday. They’ve been gelded, but they’re still wild. They’re the ones in the corral behind the blacksmith shop.
“Tucker didn’t used to do the roundups—he only took some of the culls for training. But since I been here, he started working the roundups too, since I can do the gentling. I been working mustang culls my whole life. Ramon, Thomas, and Jason, too—they’re from up north where they do more with the mustang herds. Ramon’s from Montana, Jason and Tom from Wyoming. We work to our strengths—more efficient that way.” Eli put his head into the storeroom and did a quick inventory of the cans of mash, then entered the number on the program on his phone. They were down about ten gallon cans; they needed to order about twenty more or they’d run out before the next order.
“Uh huh.”
Eli shot a glance over at Joshua. He was leaning on the wall of Rory’s stall, looking in at him. His expression was somber.
The cat appeared on top of the partition between the loose box and the next stall and made its way over to Joshua. Eli saw the subdued look on Joshua’s face lighten as he scratched between the cat’s ears. “What’s the matter?” he asked quietly.
“Nothing,” Joshua said. He scratched the cat again and set it down. “Get out of here,” he said to it.
“I thought you liked cats,” Eli said. What was going on in the boy’s head?
Joshua shrugged. He gave the cat a last caress, then straightened. “Guess I’ll see you at supper.”
Eli caught his arm as he went past. “Regrets?”
He didn’t answer, then said bitterly, “For what?” and pulled on his arm.
Eli didn’t release him. “Son, I ain’t a mind reader. You got a problem with me, you tell me, ’cause I can’t guess.” He tried to keep the anger out of his voice, but some must have seeped through, because Joshua turned his head and looked at him intently. Damn it—he’d worked with dozens of mule-headed horses and never lost his patience, but one mule-headed boy….
“I’m not your fucking son.”
“Fine, you ain’t my son. Sorry. I got into the habit. Shoot me. But tell me what the good God damn it is that you’re all pissy about.”
“It’s got nothing to do with you.”
“Bullshit. Next?”
“What?”
“I’m waiting for the next bullshit comment. I know damn well it’s got something to do with me, ’cause you were fine right up until we walked into this shed. Way I figger, the next comment’s gonna be that you ain’t pissed at me, when I know also damned well that you are. I just wanna know what you’re pissed about.”
“Do you or do you not want me?” Joshua snapped.
Eli’s mind went blank. He goggled at Joshua a good forty seconds, then said, “You think I don’t
want
you? Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, Josh! I’m hard as a rock and thinking up revenge scenarios because a good-looking boy gets a little too close to you? Jesus. Much as I want to, I can’t
stop
wanting you.” He looked around the barn and suddenly knew what Joshua had been thinking. “Shit, Josh—did you think I came in here figuring on fucking you in broad daylight when just about anybody coulda walked in? I gotta
work
with these people!”
“Fuck. You.” Josh jerked his arm out of Eli’s grasp and stalked toward the door.
Eli saw red. He caught Josh just before he walked out into the sunshine and yanked him into the dark corner beside the door. Joshua’s eyes went wide and startled, and Eli felt a rush of lust more powerful than he’d ever known. He shoved Josh against the wall and crowded in, finding his mouth just as his body slammed up against Josh’s.
He heard a muffled yelp, but then Joshua went soft in his arms. Only for a moment, though; in the next, Eli found himself with an armful of fierce. Joshua grabbed the sides of his shirt, grinding himself hard up against Eli. He was groaning low in his throat as he rocked his hips into Eli’s.
“Fuck,” Eli hissed as Joshua’s teeth closed on his shoulder.
“Yesss,” Joshua hissed. “Fuck me. Fuck me.”
“Not here….”
“
Here
. Now.” Joshua shoved him away, got him twisted around so Eli’s back was against the wall, and dropped to his knees.
“Josh, no….” But Josh had already unbuttoned Eli’s jeans and pulled down the zipper. He took Eli’s cock in with one long gulp, his tongue swirling around the shaft. When he sucked down and then dragged up again, he let Eli feel his teeth, and Eli about lost his mind. He buried his fingers in Joshua’s hair and fucked his mouth hard.
It was great, but it apparently wasn’t enough for Joshua, who after a few minutes, pulled back and replaced his mouth with his hand, his thumb rubbing over the crown and pulsing against the underside of Eli’s cock. “I need you to fuck me,” Joshua rasped. “I need it, Eli.”
“Josh….” Eli looked down into eyes naked with need and hunger. “I….” He trailed off when he saw Josh dig into his pocket for a condom and a pillow pack of lube. Joshua ripped open the condom and slid it over Eli’s cock, then undid his own jeans and jerked them down around his knees. He handed Eli the lube, then turned and bent over, his palms flat against the wall. “Fuck me,” he said over his shoulder.
“Jesus Christ!” Eli popped the lube and swiped some on his cock, then reached for Joshua’s ass, sliding two fingers in deep. Joshua moaned, “Good!” as Eli stretched him, then in a blur of need and heat and an unexpected fury, Eli buried himself in Joshua, slapping his hands over Josh’s on the wall. He drew back, rocked hard into him, heard Josh hiss, felt him shudder, and did it again, and again, his hands holding Josh’s flat on the wall. For a piece of time—Eli thought maybe forever—there was no sound except their labored breathing and the slap of lubed, sweaty flesh. Eli kicked Joshua’s feet farther apart and fucked him deeper. Joshua fought against Eli’s hold, but Eli was having none of it: he tightened his fingers around Josh’s until he held them clamped and motionless.
Joshua keened softly as he came, spurting on the worn wood of the barn wall despite Eli’s keeping his hands from his cock. He shuddered but Eli kept moving, driving him hard. He stopped thinking about anything except his need for climax, his need for Joshua.
His teeth sank into Joshua’s shirt and he felt another shudder wrack through Josh. It made him orgasm, the sensation so intense he went blind a moment, his ears buzzing. He felt himself pulse three or four times before his legs gave out and he collapsed against Josh.
T
HE
wood was warm and rough against Joshua’s cheek, and he thought he might have a splinter in his palm. The same palm Eli had clamped against the barn wall, just like he had the other, and his body pinning the rest of Joshua there, too. It wasn’t comfortable, but it felt
good
. Joshua felt safe and solid and secure under Eli’s weight, like he could let go and Eli would take care of him. The thought was so powerful he shuddered again, and felt, more than heard, Eli’s faint groan.
“
Mijo
,” Eli whispered into his ear, “you’re gonna kill me….” He eased back out of Joshua and away from him. Joshua felt empty and exposed. But then Eli’s warmth returned and he kissed the spot on Joshua’s shoulder he’d bitten. “I’m sorry,” he said.
Sorry
. Joshua shrugged him off and bent to retrieve his jeans, pulling them up over his damp cock and buttoning them again. “No big,” he said, and shifted past Eli.