“Can’t,” Danny announced.
“Why not?”
“I’m scared she’ll move!”
Cord chuckled. “That’s what you want her to do, Dan. Try it.”
The horse moved ahead a single step and Danny yelped. “Hell, Cord, she’s moving!”
“Watch your mouth, son. There are some things I will tell your ma about.”
“S-sorry.” He patted the mare’s neck. “Sorry, Sally.”
Cord bit back a grin, turned away and headed down the road. “You know how to make her go,” he called over his shoulder. “If you want her to stop just pull back on the reins and say ‘whoa.’”
“Hell—Golly, Cord, I don’t know...”
But after a moment Cord heard the unmistakable clop-clop of Sally’s hooves on the road behind him. He dropped back to walk alongside the mounted boy and tried to remember how he’d felt the first time he’d ever felt a horse move under him. Scared. Proud. All “growed-up,” as Danny put it.
Well before they reached the turnoff to the farm, Cord raised his hand and the boy brought the mare to a halt and slipped off. “You gonna mount up like you just rode in from town?”
“Nope.” He grasped the reins and walked alongside Danny until they reached the farm. He motioned the boy to open the gate and walked the horse through.
“Won’t Ma think it’s strange, you walkin’ and carryin’ your saddle like that?”
“Probably. But your ma thinks a lot of the things I do are strange, like wanting her to lock the doors at night.”
Danny chortled. “And baking pies.”
They both laughed all the way into the barn.
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