“Tack room?”
Carson shared another smile with Tracy. “It’s a room where we keep the saddles and bridles for the horses.”
“Oh.” Johnny jumped down. “We’ll be right back, Mom.”
Carson had a hunch the boy was hooked. You never knew. Some kids showed little interest or were too scared and didn’t want to ride. This little guy was tough. Like his father.
“I’ll be waiting.”
Johnny asked a dozen questions while they gathered everything, impressing Carson with his bright mind that wanted to learn. This was a new world for Carson who, as an adult, had never spent time taking care of anyone’s child. He found Johnny totally entertaining and quite wonderful.
As a kid, Carson had grown up around the children whose parents worked on the ranch, and of course, the neighbor’s kids. A couple of the boys, including his best friend Jean-Paul, wanted to be rodeo champions. So did Carson, whose grandfather had been a champion and taught him everything he knew.
In between chores and school, they’d spent their free time on the back of a horse, learning how to be bulldoggers and bull riders. As they grew older there were girls, and later on women, prize money and championships. But it still wasn’t enough. He’d wanted to get out and see the world. He’d joined the Marines on a whim, wanting a new arena.
Through it all, Carson had taken and taken, never giving anything back. The pain over his own selfishness would never go away, but Johnny’s enthusiasm wouldn’t allow him time to wallow in it.
He carried the equipment to the corral and put the bridle on Goldie. Johnny stood by him, watching in fascination. “Here you go. Hold the reins while I get her saddled.”
The pony moved forward and nudged Johnny. He laughed and was probably scared to death, but he held on. “She likes you or she wouldn’t do that. You’ll get used to it.”
Carson threw on the blanket, then the saddle. “Okay. Now I’d like you to walk around the corral leading Goldie. Just walk normally, holding on to the reins. She’ll follow. It will help her to learn to trust you, because she’s nervous. Do you want me to walk with you, or do you want to do it yourself?”
He thought for a minute. “I can do it.”
“Fine.”
The whole time this went on, Carson was aware of his mother watching in silence from the fence as her brave son did a slow walk around the enclosure without a misstep. At one point she took some pictures with her cell phone.
“Great job, Johnny. Now walk her to that feeding bag. Dig in and pull out a handful of oats. If you hold them out to her with your hand flat, she’ll eat them without hurting you, but it’ll tickle.”
Johnny laughed nervously, but he did what Carson told him to do. In a minute he was giggling while the pony enjoyed her treat. “It feels funny.” He heard Tracy laugh from the sidelines.
“You’ve made a friend for life, Johnny. Think you’re ready to get up on her?” The boy nodded. “Okay.” Now the next lesson was about to begin. “I’m going to seat you in the saddle, then I’ll adjust the stirrups.” Carson lifted him. “You hold on to the reins and the pommel. Are you all right? I know it seems a long way up. Did you ever fall off the tricky bars at school?”
“Yes.”
“Well, this is a lot safer because you’ve got this pony under you and she loves you. She doesn’t want you to fall. Okay if I let go of you?”
“Okay,” he said in a shaky voice.
Carson took a few steps back, ready to catch him if he suddenly wanted to get off. But he didn’t. “Good man.”
“You look like a real cowboy!” his mother called out. “I’m so proud of you!”
“Thanks.”
Moving to the front of the pony Carson said, “I’m going to take hold of the bridle and walk Goldie. You keep holding on to the pommel so you can feel what it’s like to ride her. Does that sound okay to you?”
Johnny nodded, but was biting his lip.
“We’ll only go a few feet, then we’ll stop.”
“Okay,” the boy murmured.
Carson started to walk. Goldie cooperated. When he stopped, she stopped. “How did that feel? Do you want to keep going?”
“Yes.”
“Good for you. I’ve seen ten-year-olds out here who started bawling their heads off for their moms about now.” He moved again and just kept going until they’d circled the corral. “You just passed your first lesson with flying colors, Johnny.” He heard clapping and cheers from Tracy.
A big smile broke out on his face. “Thanks. Can I go around by myself now?”
That’s what he’d been hoping to hear, but you never knew. “Why not? Let me show you how to hold the reins. If she goes too fast, just pull back on them a little. Ready?” He nodded.
“I’m going to give Goldie a little tap on her hind quarters to get her going. Okay?”
“Yup.”
Suddenly they were off at the same speed as before, but without his help. Carson walked over to the fence where Tracy was hanging over it.
“Hey—I’m doing it. I’m riding!” he cried out.
“You sure are,” she called back. “I can’t believe it!”
“It’s easy, Mom.” He circled one more time. “Now it’s your turn.”
Carson saw the expression on her face and chuckled. “Yeah, Mom. It’s easy. Now it’s time for you. Better not let your son show you up.”
“He already has. I’m quaking in my new leather boots.”
“I shivered my first time, too, but I promise it will be okay. Annie’s a gentle, sure-footed mare.”
She got down off the fence and walked around to enter the corral. Carson waited until Goldie had come up to him before he removed the boy’s feet from the stirrups and pulled him off. “Give her a rub on the forelock, then she’ll know you had a good time.”
Johnny did his bidding without any hesitation. “Can I give her some more oats?”
“Of course.” He handed him the reins. “Go ahead. You know what to do.”
While he walked her over to the feed bag, Carson called to Bert to bring out Annie, and then he made the introductions. “Bert Rawlins, this is Tracy Baretta. Bert has been running the stable for years.”
Tracy shook his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“The feeling’s mutual, ma’am. Annie’s saddled and ready to go.”
Carson reached for the reins and handed them to Tracy. “Let’s see how good a teacher I am.”
There was more green than gray in her eyes today. They were suspiciously bright. “You already know. My son’s over there feeding that pony like he’s been living on this ranch for a month.”
Nothing could have pleased Carson more. He watched her move in front of the bay and rub her forelock. She nickered on cue.
“This is my first time, Annie. Don’t let me down.” Pulling on the reins, she started walking around the corral just as her son had done.
Carson decided the brown horse with the black mane and tail provided the perfect foil for her gleaming blond hair. When she came around, he helped her into the saddle and adjusted her stirrups. “Would you like me to walk you around?”
“I