Author: Michelle Wood
Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me, nor do I profit from the story, etc. This is a work of fan fiction.
Ratings and Warnings: G
Author's Notes: The Judge takes Mark horseback riding.
Hi-Yo Silver!
"Come on, McCormick! We're gonna be late," shouted Hardcastle in the direction of the gatehouse. Hardcastle stood in the driveway, dressed in an old pair of blue jeans, with a faded plaid shirt, and a pair of brown cowboy boots.
"Judge, do I really need to do this?" whined McCormick, as he came out of the gatehouse. He was wearing blue jeans, a yellow t-shirt, and an old pair of tennis shoes. "I mean really, I'm a city kid. I don't need to know how to ride a horse."
"Come on, it's fun. Didn't you ever want to ride a horse as a kid?"
"No. I didn't have time for things like that," responded McCormick. "Besides, where in Jersey would I find a horse?"
"Just get in the truck. It'll be fun. I haven't been to this ranch in years, but I know the owner well. I wonder if my favorite horse, Cochise, is available."
Mark climbed into the truck and asked, "Cochise, wasn't that John Wayne's horse in El Dorado?"
"Yeah. This Cochise is a big Appaloosa as well, about 16 hands." Hardcastle started up the truck and headed down the drive. "We'll find a nice gentle horse for you, a beginner's horse." Hardcastle grinned.
"Judge, I think I'm a bit big for a pony. Ford Mustangs are more my speed," retorted McCormick.
Hardcastle chuckled and continued to drive. Twenty minutes later, they were getting out of the truck at a riding stable in the Santa Monica Mountains. Mark got out slowly and looked around. The judge walked up to meet a rancher who was walking towards the truck.
"Milt! Good to see you again. Been a while," greeted the rancher. "See you replaced the old truck finally."
Good morning, Roy. It's great to see you. Ranch looks great," said Hardcastle with a grin. "Got someone for you to meet. He's never ridden before but I think he can handle it." The judge and Roy walked towards McCormick who was leaning against the truck.
"McCormick, this is Roy Drapper. He owns the ranch and is a good friend."
"Hi, nice to meet you. Call me Mark." Mark and Roy shook hands.
"Judge tells me you've never ridden before. Don't worry, we got a couple nice beginner's horses for you."
"Hey Roy, is Cochise still around?"
"Sorry, Milt. Cochise was retired two years ago. We have a new stallion that I think you'll like though. Let's get Mark saddled first. Then I'll bring you that stallion."
Roy, the judge, and Mark walked over to a corral with six horses in it. "These are the gentler horses that we use with the beginners. Blackie, the black mare with the four white socks, is probably too small for you. Godfrey, that buckskin, is a good horse but he tends to put nervous riders into the bushes." Roy pointed to a couple more horses. "Mouse is that smaller chestnut-colored mare, again a little small for you. A 10-year old girl leases Gremlin, the black and white paint, for lessons today. Lance, the Appaloosa, is good but he's lame at the moment. So, I guess you get the brown and white paint."
"What's his name?" asked Mark cautiously.
"Scout." Mark smiled and looked at Hardcastle as Roy continued, "He's a good horse. Doesn't startle easy."
Hardcastle turned to Roy and said, "Sounds like the perfect horse for McCormick here. Let's get him saddled."
Roy went back to the barn to grab the saddle and bridle for Scout. McCormick turned to Hardcastle and grinned. "Of course, the horse's name had to be Scout. Let's hope this Tonto can stay on Scout."
"Come on, it's not hard to ride a horse." Hardcastle turned to McCormick and said seriously, "Listen, kiddo, horses can sense if you're nervous or scared. They will act differently if they sense that nervousness. Try to relax. Have fun."
Roy walked over to McCormick, leading Scout, who was almost sixteen hands tall. Mark looked at Scout and then turned to Hardcastle and said, "At least he's got longer legs than Whistler."
"McCormick, shut-up and get on your horse."
"Okay, Judge. No need to be so touchy." Mark put his foot in the stirrup and pulled himself up into the saddle. Roy adjusted the stirrups for him.
"So, how's it feel?" asked Hardcastle.
"Tall, like it's a long ways down, if I fall," responded Mark. "How long a ride are we taking?"
"A couple hours. Depends on how you're doing?" Hardcastle turned to Roy and asked, "So, where's my horse?"
"Martin should be bringing him out any minute. I asked him to saddle up that new stallion for you." As soon as Roy completed the sentence, the ranch hand came out of the barn, leading a big white stallion. Mark groaned.
"He's beautiful," exclaimed Hardcastle. "What's his name?
"Silver," replied Roy simply.
"Of course, had to be Silver," quipped Mark.
Hardcastle glared at Mark, daring him to make any more comments. He proceeded to walk around the horse, checking him over, before pulling a carrot from his shirt pocket and offering it to Silver. The horse gently took the carrot from the judge's hand. The judge patted Silver on the neck and then pulled himself into the saddle.
Roy adjusted the stirrups and then stood back. "Now, the easiest trail for the beginner is the Western trail. It follows the ridge and loops back around. It should take about two hours to complete. There's water in the canteens for you and a stream about a half-way for the horses. There's a meadow before the stream, good spot to run 'em, if you feel up to it. Have fun and see you in a couple hours."
"Thanks, Roy." Hardcastle turned around in his saddle and looked at Mark. "Ready?"
"Yeah," responded Mark nervously. He had the reins in both hands and was not sure what to do.
"Okay, just remember to relax. Hold the reins in one hand, like this." Hardcastle demonstrated how to hold both reins in one hand, with the last two fingers curled around the reins. Mark did the same thing. "Also, try to embrace the horse with your legs, but keep your lower legs in loose contact with the horse's body. Now, to make the horse go forward, put your heels into his side and make a snick, snick sound. Almost like a kissing sound." Hardcastle demonstrated and Mark followed. Roy laughed and waved good-bye to the pair.
The judge led the way down the trail. Mark followed quietly. They walked about five minutes before McCormick broke the silence. "Judge, how do you steer a horse?" asked Mark as soon as he realized Scout was heading for a low-hanging tree branch.
"You don't steer a horse, you neck rein a horse." Hardcastle looked back over his shoulder at Mark. "Move the reins to your left, touching the reins to the right-side of his neck. You could also apply slight pressure to the left side with your leg to make him go left."
Mark did as he was told and the low-hanging branch was avoided. Mark tried hard to relax and enjoy the scenery as they continued to follow the trail. However, Scout was skittish, which only increased Mark's nervousness.
They rode in silence for about ten minutes before the judge looked back over his shoulder.
"Relax," ordered Hardcastle. "You're making the horse nervous."
"Making the horse nervous. Judge, I'm the one who's nervous. I'd feel more comfortable in a car going 150 mph, than I do now. At least in a car, I have a helmet and a roll cage to protect me."
"Come on, it's not that bad and you're doing great. You avoided the tree branch and have been able to keep up on the trail," encouraged Hardcastle. He could see that Mark was sitting stiffly in the saddle. "Relax your butt in the saddle. If you don't, you'll be sore tomorrow."
Mark tried to relax but was very focused on holding the reins correctly and avoiding all trees. Hardcastle chuckled at the sight of McCormick, who was definitely out of his element on this adventure.
"Stop laughing at me!" shouted Mark. Scout shifted nervously under Mark as he yelled at Hardcastle. Mark panicked, dropped the reins, and grabbed the pommel of the saddle with both hands. Scout, sensing the panic in his rider and the loss of control of the reins, started to run.
Hardcastle saw the panic on Mark's face and the horse's reaction. As Scout tried to pass the judge, he reached out and grabbed the reins, pulling Scout to a stop. Hardcastle handed the reins to McCormick. "Never let go of the reins, even when you grab the pommel."
"Yeah, got it," replied Mark quietly. "Thanks."
"It's okay, kiddo. You're doing fine for your first time. We'll just take it slow a little longer." Hardcastle clicked to his horse and they started moving forward. Mark did the same with his horse. They rode in companionable silence for another fifteen minutes before the judge said, "I bet by the time we get to the meadow, you'll be ready for a canter."
"Whoa, wait a minute Kemosabe. What's a canter?" asked Mark anxiously.
"Faster than a trot, slower than a gallop," responded Hardcastle. Seeing the blank expression on the young man's face, he added "A fast walk."
"Walking, I can handle. Fast walking might be okay." McCormick started to relax in the saddle and began to look around. "It's beautiful up here."
"Yup. Used to ride up here a lot after Nancy died. Good place to think and horses are good listeners," was the reply from Hardcastle. Mark directed Scout alongside Silver. "You can see the ocean from up here, without the noise of the city."
"Very nice."
They came to the edge of the meadow. Hardcastle stopped and looked at Mark, who also stopped. "Do you want to go faster?"
"Sure, just a fast walk, right?"
"Yeah. Now first, I want to tell you a few things about cantering. It starts as a trot and can be choppy at first, until the horse moves into the canter. Hold yourself upright, look ahead, not down, and if you need to, hold the seat of the saddle with your left hand. You can still grab the pommel with the right if you need to."
"Anything else I need to know?"
"Yeah, it helps to think of a three beat rhythm coming from your hips to stay in rhythm with the horse." Hardcastle looked at the expression of disbelief on Mark's face. "Trust me, it'll help keep your butt from slamming into the saddle. Ready?"
"Yeah. We stop at the stream, right?"
"You got it. Okay, follow me." Hardcastle gently dug his heals into Silver's flank and loosened the reins. Both horse and rider took off.
Fast walk, my eye, that's almost a run. Mark put a brave face on and repeated the same motions that Hardcastle had. He tried to remember all that the judge had told him about holding onto the saddle. As the young man held the saddle, Scout decided to catch up with Silver. Soon they were approaching a full gallop and were gaining on Hardcastle. Mark's face was one of panic.
Hardcastle took a moment to glance over his shoulder to see how McCormick was doing."McCormick, pull back gently on the reins," shouted Hardcastle as he stopped his horse.
The judge watched as McCormick struggled to pull back on the reins and maintain his seat. McCormick was leaning too far back in the saddle. He stiffened and pulled back hard on the reins, in a panic. Suddenly, Scout stopped and Mark came out of the saddle, over the pommel, and fell alongside the horse. Hardcastle couldn't believe what he had just witnessed. It was like something out of a cartoon or a bad western. He forced his horse into a run and rushed over to McCormick, who lay still on the ground. Hardcastle pulled up next to Scout, dismounted, and ran to McCormick's side.
The judge carefully checked Mark's arms and legs for any broken bones. He then carefully rolled Mark onto his back. A lump was forming on his forehead and he had a bloody nose from making contact with the ground. "Kid, that's going to hurt in the morning."
Hardcastle grabbed the canteen from his saddle and the bandana from around his neck. He soaked the cloth in the water and used it to wipe the blood away from Mark's face. He also tried to slow the bleeding. "Guess, you were right, Ford Mustangs are more your speed." The judge sat on the ground and gently lifted Mark's head so that it was resting on his thigh.
Hardcastle sat with McCormick for about ten minutes before the kid started to regain consciousness. As soon as Mark's eyes started to flicker open, Hardcastle gently moved Mark's head back to the ground. "You with me, kid?"
Mark was confused. "Hi-Yo Silver. You, the Lone Ranger and Silver?"
"Silver and Hardcastle," responded the Judge, trying to determine if Mark's pupils were dilated evenly. "Can you tell me how many fingers I'm holding up?
"Two."
"Good. Do you know what happened?"
"Yeah. Canter is not a fast walk," responded the young man.
"Canter is a bit faster than a walk," acknowledged the judge. "You just went to gallop a bit sooner than expected."
"Tonto not like Scout. Tonto walk home," groaned Mark, as he tried to sit up. He looked nauseous and dizzy.
"Easy there, Tonto. Have a sip of water." Hardcastle helped ease McCormick into a sitting position and offered him the canteen.
Mark took a small sip and looked around. "Didn't make it to the stream. Not quite halfway yet."
"Don't worry, we'll get you back on the horse and walk slowly back to the ranch," offered Hardcastle. He could see that McCormick was hurting and embarrassed that the ride was not going well. "Once we get back to the truck, we can stop by the emergency room and have you checked out."
"No. Don't need a doctor. Need my bed and some aspirin," argued McCormick, already trying to stand.
"Hate to tell you this, kid, but you probably got a concussion from that stunt."
"No hospital. Just get me back on the horse and let's go." Mark grimaced as he tried to put his foot in the stirrup and pull himself up. Hardcastle watched Mark struggle and decided to help him. Once up in the saddle Mark said, "May have bruised a rib or two, as well."
Hardcastle looked at McCormick and was going to mention the hospital again but the glare coming from the young man, slumped in the saddle, stopped him. He swung himself up into the saddle and picked up the Scout's reins. "Home, Kemosabe," directed McCormick gripping the pommel. Hardcastle shook his head and started the horses moving.
"Okay, kid. But you're staying in the main house tonight. Need to keep an eye on you," responded the judge. He continued to watch McCormick as they walked. The kid was trying hard to stay upright in the saddle. A bruise had already formed on his forehead and there were scratches on his face.
About an hour and fifteen minutes later, they were back at the ranch. Hardcastle helped Mark down off the horse. Roy came out to help with the horses. He took one look at Mark and asked, "What happened?"
Hardcastle started to tell Roy, but McCormick interrupted. "Tonto and Scout not see eye-to-eye. Tonto like slow walk. Scout like fast walk. Scout win. Tonto go home with Lone Ranger and take nap." Mark walked over to the truck and climbed in.
"First ride didn't go so well. He thinks a Ford Mustang is more his speed and I'm inclined to agree. He's fine," replied Hardcastle, watching Mark get comfortable in the truck. "Well, I should probably get the kid home and into bed. Thanks, Roy. That stallion is a magnificent horse, very smooth gaits. Would have liked to run him some more."
"Well, there's always next time. Assuming you and the kid come back," replied Roy quietly.
Hardcastle shook hands with Roy.
"Oh, I'll be back. But I don't think McCormick will. I'll leave him at Riverside track next time. Thanks again!"
Hardcastle got into the truck with Mark, who was leaning against the door holding his ribs. "Home, Kemosabe," came the tired plea from the passenger side.
"Hi-Yo, Silver!" responded Hardcastle with a slight chuckle.
