Red Dirt Heart 04 - Red Dirt Heart 4 (14 page)

George and Billy laughed, Scott smiled and shook his head in disbelief, and I wasn’t quite sure what the hell I’d just witnessed.

“Don’t like hats, huh, girl?” Charlie said to the horse. He looked back over at a now-not-laughing Lenny Edens, but spoke to the horse. “I take it you don’t like poly pipe either, huh?” He gently stroked her nose. “I don’t blame ya,” he said to her. “I don’t blame ya one bit.”

She pulled her head back a bit, but Charlie kept her lead tight, all the while whisperin’ she was alright, he’d look after her real good, and she’d see, she’d see in no time flat, they were gonna be the best of mates.

George climbed down off the fence on the outside of the corral with a proud, satisfied smile. “I’ll bring the float around,” he said, walking away.

“Yeah,” one of Lenny’s friends said. “He’s still gotta get it into the horse float yet.”

Charlie never stopped the small touches, the whispers and soothing words, and the horse was much more relaxed when a few minutes later, the new Cruiser drove around the back of the corrals.

“Trav.” Charlie spoke, his voice at normal volume but even and calm. “I want you to open the gate for me, nice and slow. Take your hat off first, though, okay?”

I did as he asked, handing my hat to Billy. But even when the corral gate was open, Charlie never moved. He was all patience, slow-breathing and soft-talking.

“Billy,” he said. “There’s an esky of food in the Cruiser. Ma packed us some apples. Can you grab ’em for me?”

Billy came back with three apples, gave his hat and mine to me as he went past and walked up and handed the fruit to Charlie. Charlie had always said Billy was one of the best stockmen he’d ever seen, and his way with horses was second to none. I guess it was his quiet nature, and his respect for the animals was clear. When Charlie put an apple on the palm of his hand and the horse first sniffed it, then chomped it, Billy rubbed her neck and shoulder without so much as a flinch from the horse before he turned and walked away. “When you’re ready, boss.”

“You gonna come with me, girl?” Charlie asked the horse. His tone was still quiet and melodic, and he gently pulled the lead and led her out of the corral.

She was flighty and jumpy, but Charlie held her strong. He walked her toward the horse float but stopped short of it. She was in open space now, and I was guessin’ that Charlie was just letting her get used to it. Billy walked over with a handful of hay, but the horse nudged Charlie’s hand until he surrendered another apple.

Charlie laughed quietly as she ate it and scratched her behind the ear. “You’re not getting the last one until you’re in that float, ya hear?”

The gate on the horse trailer was down, and still holding the hay, Billy walked backward up into it. It was pretty clear the horse hadn’t been fed a great deal of late, so if she wanted that hay, she had to go into the float to get it.

And sure enough, with Charlie leadin’ her in, uncertain step after uncertain step, she did exactly that.

Smiling, I walked back into the corral and picked up Charlie’s hat. Lenny and his two friends were still standing there, looking none too pleased. I dusted the old Akubra off and heard some guy telling Lenny, “That’s Sutton’s kid.”

Lenny turned to Charlie, and his expression was one of surprise. “Huh.”

Charlie and Billy walked out of the float, and George lifted the gate. Charlie had the lead in his hand and came toward me. I handed him his hat, he smiled at me, and then he walked over to Lenny and handed him the lead. “This is yours. The horse is mine.”

Lenny nodded; his attitude seemed to have turned one-eighty. “You’re Charles Sutton’s son,” he said, like Charlie didn’t already know. “He was a friend of mine for years.”

Charlie raised his chin. “Figures. He was an arsehole too.” He stared at him for a long daring second, then turned and walked away.

Trying not to laugh, I tipped my hat to them. “Gentlemen.” And I walked with Charlie to the car.

Watching magic happen.

The horse was flighty again when we got her home, pulling and pigrooting when Charlie led her into the round yard, but he never faltered. Not once. He held her lead tight, whispering soft and calming words with gentle touches, and gave her time to get used to her new surroundings.

For an impatient man who had no time for nonsense or mucking around, he had an awful lot of patience with her. He stood his ground with her while she pushed these new boundaries, but he had an air of serenity when he was with her.

It was a side of Charlie I had never seen.

It was one of the most beautiful things I’d ever been lucky enough to watch.

Every day for two weeks, he spent time with her. Some days it was just a few hours, some days it was all day long. It was slow progress, but progress nonetheless. He had no intention of introducing a saddle until she trusted him. “That permission has to be given,” Charlie said. “I can’t take it from her.”

He’d walk Texas in and tether his lead with hers, just to leave them standing next to each other. Sometimes he’d ride Texas around the yard while his new horse watched, and check his hooves, brush him down—so his new horse to see that the everyday things he’d be doing with her at some point wouldn’t hurt her. Sometimes he’d bring George’s horse, Lizard, into the yard and do the same things. He even brought Delilah in a few times to see how the new horse reacted to cattle. He’d tether them close together and even push Delilah into the horse’s space, up against her, behind her.

She never flinched.

What she hated was hats and hoses, which could only mean she’d been flogged with a hose or pipe, in all likelihood by a man wearing a hat. And that just about broke Charlie’s heart. She had a weakness for apples and sugar cubes, and those, according to Charlie, were the only weapons he needed.

It was funny to watch as he rewarded her with something sweet. After a long day of working together, he’d stand a few yards from her and let out a small whistle, hold out an apple or a few cubes of sugar, making her come to him.

If I’d ever wondered how he got Shelby to come galloping in with just a whistle, now I knew. Charlie smiled at me as she took her sweets from his hand, the kind of smile that made my heart beat itself all out of rhythm.

It was late one night and we were in bed. Charlie had spent all day in the yard with her, and after two weeks of daily trust-earning, he was tired. We were on our sides, looking at each other, our hands joined on the bed between us.

“Are you gonna do any actual work one of these days, or are ya just gonna sit on the yard railing watchin’ me all day long?” he asked.

“I happen to like watching you,” I told him. “Especially the way you are with her. I could watch you work your magic all day long.”

Charlie smiled at that. “She did well today.”

“She did. She’s come a long way from the timid thing she was two weeks ago.”

“There’s a long way to go yet.”

“Yeah, there is,” I agreed. “Have you thought of a name yet?”

He shook his head. “Not yet. It’ll come to me. It took me a while to name Shelby.”

“Did you have to break her in? Shelby, I mean?” I asked, wondering if he’d done the same thing with her as he did with this horse.

“Nah, she was good to go when we got her. The guy Dad bought her from had worked with her and gave her some stupid name. I can’t even remember what it was, but it didn’t suit her at all.” He smiled with sad fondness as he obviously remembered his old horse. “She was such a good horse.”

“I have no doubt Miss Nameless will be just as good.”

Charlie’s eyes met mine with a mix of insecurity and hope. “Maybe.”

“Of course she will,” I told him. “How can she not? Look at how far she’s come already. She watches you, she moves when you move, she looks for your signals.” I let go of his hand so I could run my fingers through the hair at his temple. “Watching you be so gentle, so attentive to her, so in tune with her mood, with her body language”—my voice was low—“how you whisper to her, how you touch her. If I was the jealous kind…”

Charlie laughed at that. “Trav. She’s a horse.”

I pretended to be put out. “Still. You’re only supposed to be like that with me.”

In one quick movement, Charlie pulled me close and rolled on top of me. His nose touched mine, the look in his eyes was both heated and playful. “You want me to tie you to the fence railing and check your feet?”

I snorted out a laugh.

He nudged his nose to mine and ghosted my lips with a barely there kiss. “Or you want me to run my hands all over you”—he traced his nose down my jaw and gently bit my earlobe—“and whisper things in your ear?”

He set my blood on fire with his words, the brush of his lips, the gravel in his voice. My body reacted to him like it always did: my legs fell open, my hips rose off the mattress, and I pulled his mouth to mine.

I couldn’t get enough of him. Not close enough, not deep enough, it was never going to be enough. The more Charlie I had, the more I wanted.

But it was wasn’t rushed or fevered. It was a sleepy kind of sex, languid, slow and deep, and as much as it drove me crazy, Charlie’s take-his-sweet-time kind of lovemaking just might be my favourite kind.

* * * *

Two days later, when Scott the vet called into the station, he wasn’t surprised to find Charlie in the yard with his horse.

He got out of his truck and, smiling, walked over to where I was sitting on the railing watching Charlie. He looked over the horse for a long moment. “She’s looking good,” he said.

“She is,” Charlie replied. He rubbed her down the neck. “Aren’t you, girl? We’re still getting used to each other, but I think she likes me.”

“Likes you?” I questioned. “You’re the bringer of apples. She loves you.”

Scott chuckled. “Apples, huh?”

Charlie smiled at him. “Yep. Apples and sugar. The occasional carrot. She has a sweet tooth, and I’m using it to bribe her.”

Scott nodded. “Well, there’s truth in the saying that you catch more flies with honey than you ever will with vinegar.”

“Especially with horses,” Charlie agreed. “She’s coming along real good. But I’m taking her slow. Just getting in her personal space, touching her legs, minimal resistance, that kind of thing.”

“Still no hats, I see?”

“Nope. No hats, no pipes, no hoses, no lengths of anything in your hand, basically.”

“She’s rideable, yeah?” Scott asked.

“Supposedly,” Charlie answered. “I don’t know who had her before that arsehole Edens, so I can’t be sure how she was taught. So I’m basically just starting from scratch. I want her to trust me first.”

I was smiling. I couldn’t help but be proud of him. How someone treated animals, in particular an abused animal, said so much about their character. And if anyone ever thought Charlie was a hard man, if anyone ever questioned why I loved him, then I would dare them to come watch him with this horse.

“Wanna see what we’ve done so far?” Charlie asked Scott.

“Sure,” Scott said, climbing up the railing. He swung his leg over and sat with me.

The horse lifted her head uneasily, though Charlie kept her calm. I pointed to Scott’s hat. “You’ll need to take that off,” I told him. “On that side of the fence, it’s fine. On this side, she arks up.”

“Oh.” He quickly pulled the offending hat from his head and threw it to the ground behind us. “So, you never gonna wear a hat again?” he asked with a smile.

“Give me a fortnight,” Charlie said. “I’ll be wearin’ my hat and she won’t mind one bit.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Scott said.

Charlie smiled in a challenge-accepted kind of way, and then he showed Scott what he and the horse had been working on.

He let the lead go slack and she followed him around the yard; then he pushed on her barrel and she stepped away; he pushed on her chest and she stepped back. He leaned his chest against her neck, he stood in real close at her shoulder and rubbed down her ribs.

To anyone else, it would have seemed insignificant. But given this horse’s history, it was monumental. Charlie was inside her fight or flight zone, and she didn’t even look like rearing up or bolting away. She remained calm and showed no signs of anxiety at all.

Charlie got the horse to move with no more than a low command and a move of his shoulders.

Scott recognised it for what he was. He smiled and shook his head.

“Doesn’t look like the same horse,” he said quietly.

“He’s good with her,” I added. “I didn’t think patience was a quality Charlie possessed.”

“I heard that,” Charlie said.

Scott snorted. “Well, she certainly isn’t the prettiest horse I’ve ever seen. But I’d say she’s gonna be a good stockhorse.”

Charlie rubbed her forehead. “She’s gonna be great.” He unclipped the lead and walked over to us. “So, Scott, what brings you out this way?”

“I was out at the McPhersons,” he answered. “Thought I’d call in.”

Charlie grinned at him. “Lunchtime, huh?”

Scott didn’t even try to deny it. He laughed. “Maybe.”

“Uh, Charlie,” I whispered, looking at his horse. “She’s coming up behind you.”

The horse stood about a foot from his back, and Charlie tilted his head just so. Neither one of them moved for a few long seconds, until she stepped in and nudged his shoulder with her nose.

Charlie grinned.

He turned around slowly and rubbed her cheek. “Oh, did I forget something, girl?”

The horse nudged him again, but then I realised she wasn’t nudging. She was sniffing him out. She was looking for something.

Her apple.

“Alright, alright,” he said with a laugh and a scratch to her ear. “I’ll get you one.”

“What he means,” I said, climbing down on the outside of the yard, “is that Travis will go get you one.”

I walked over to the gate where Charlie had put a few things and collected two apples and his bottle of water. I handed the apples to him through the railings. Charlie gave one apple to his horse and bit into the other, but he’d only taken two bites when she tried to eat that one out of his hand. “Uh-uh.” He held up his other hand in a stop signal. “I’ll have some manners, please.”

She nodded a bit and took a few seconds to calm herself, and only when she was still and relaxed did he give it to her. “Good girl,” he said, rubbing her neck. “No more apples today, okay? You’ve had two and that’s enough.”

Just then, Ma called out from the veranda. “Lunch, boys.”

Charlie climbed through the railings with a grin. “Magic words, those.” He called out to Ma. “Got an extra plate? Scott’s here.”

“I can see that,” we heard her mumble. “I ain’t blind, Charlie. Hello, Scott.”

“Hi.” Scott laughed as Ma walked back into the house. “I see Mrs Brown is back to good health.”

Charlie snorted. “Yep. When’s she’s cussin’ at me, you know she’s just fine.”

* * * *

Truth be told, I’d spent far too long watching Charlie with his horse than I should have. But he was so damn good to watch.

George pulled the Cruiser up in front of the homestead and walked over to where I was sitting, where I’d been sitting these last two weeks watching Charlie, on the round yard fence.

“You can’t sit there watching Charlie all day,” George said. “You can come with me and help me at the supermarket.”

I turned to Charlie. “Did you put him up to this?”

Charlie laughed. “Nope. But it’s a bloody good idea.” He looked at George. “Don’t let him harass any little old ladies in aisle seven.”

George’s eyebrows almost met. “Huh?”

“Nothing,” I covered quickly and shot Charlie a quick glare. “She was a nosey bitch and deserved it.”

Charlie laughed loudly. “Still. Don’t think she appreciated the lesson in personal lubricant.”

George’s mouth fell open, and he turned slowly to face me. “You did what?”

“Nothing.” I fixed my hat. “Nothing at all.”

Charlie was still laughing as I walked toward the Cruiser, so I flipped him the bird before I opened the door and got in.

I really liked George. He had a sense of humour drier than the desert he lived in. He was quiet but he was smart, and although he never said much, the occasional twitch of his lips was a sign that he didn’t say what he was thinking.

But as we headed down the highway and into the rural hub that was Alice Springs, “So,” George started. “Charlie’s horse…”

“Man, I could watch him all day with her.”

“Could?” George deadpanned. “You
do
spend all day watching them.”

I grinned at him. “Yeah, yeah. I’ve been slacking off, I know. But seeing him work with her…” I shook my head. “Well, it’s kinda special.”

George nodded and smiled as he drove. “Just how much do you think Charlie sees himself in that horse?”