Chapter 8: Riding Lessons

                He took her outside after breakfast, and they went to the horse corral. He carried two buckets of water; he made sure she only carried a half bucketful. They emptied the buckets into the water trough, which Logan noticed was nearly empty. He sighed in dismay. He'd have to pay more attention to them. He gave a series of whistling calls, and his herd responded to the call by flying across the pasture, Dark Star and Storm leading the way. The kid hid behind him timidly when the horses stopped at the trough, then when Storm saw he didn't have a bridle he came running the rest of the way. Logan stood his ground. He'd played this game with the horse before.

                Storm pounded up, ears back flat to his head, teeth bared. Logan stood his ground. The horse didn't stop until he was practically in top of the man, then he stopped so suddenly his hooves dug deep furrows in the ground. Logan laughed aloud. "Feeling frisky, eh, boy?" He patted the velvety nose and grinned as the nose butted him in the stomach, as if chiding him for ignoring them. Logan grinned and scratched under the chin. "Hey, kid," he said. "C'mere, want ya ta meet Storm. He's the boss of the herd." When there was no response, he turned around. "Kid?"

                She was backed up beside the fence, cowering, hiding her face. He left the horse and went to her, kneeling beside her. "Hey," he said gently. "We was just playin'. We do it all the time. Did it scare ya?"

                Slowly, she nodded. "I'm scared of horses," she whispered. "They're big, and mean--"

                Logan hauled her bodily to her feet. "They are not mean," he said. "Well, not all of them. I raise horses here, kid. I train and sell them. If yer gonna help me round the place, ya gotta get used ta them. C'mon. I'll show ya there ain't nothin' ta be scared of." She followed behind him timidly as he went back to the waiting horse. "Here," he said, stopping and putting a lump of sugar in her hand. "Hold yer hand out in front o' him, palm flat. He'll take the sugar offa yer hand." She tried, he'd have to give her credit for that. She extended her hand, but it was shaking so badly with fear that the sugar fell off. Storm looked at her with a look that could only be described as disgust, and reached down to the ground for the sugar.

                Logan looked at Storm thoughtfully. Maybe a big stallion was the wrong horse to start her off on. He whistled, and a pale gray pony with large, irregular black patches separated itself from the group and came trotting docilely forward. There was no game of chicken with this one; Pretty Girl was not the kind to play those games. She was a quiet, gentle brood mare who had the best temperament of any of the horses in the herd, and was also the shortest. Her head came to the kid's chest. "This is Pretty Girl," he said, scratching the horse's neck under the black and white mane. "She's the nicest, gentlest horse I got. Try her."

                Jubilee still looked tentative, but at least the sugar didn't fall off her shaking hand this time. Her hand was much steadier when Logan put another lump on it this time.  And after the third lump was gone, she even had the temerity to reach out and pat the horse's head, between the black-and white splotched ears. Pretty Girl closed her eyes and munched the sugar happily as the timid caress continued.

                Jubilee was startled when the horse sneezed suddenly, and withdrew her hand, looking ready to run again. Pretty Girl wasn't having that. She wanted more scratching. She stepped forward and pushed her head under Jubilee's hand, and the kid started to caress the horse again. "Her skin's so soft," the girl said wonderingly. "Like velvet."

                Logan watched the girl carefully. "Wanna ride her?" he asked.

                The reaction was instantaneous. Jubilee withdrew her hand rapidly and ran for the fence, scrambling frantically over it, and then dashed for the house as fast as she could run. Logan hopped the fence and followed her.

                She was lying on her bed when he came in the cabin, breathing hard. He said nothing, just pulled the chair up next to her bed and reached for her hand. He could see the blood pulse in her thin wrist so quickly he almost couldn't see the separate beats. Her heart was pounding.

                When she offered no explanation he tugged gently on her hand to get her attention. "Hey," he said. She didn't look at him, but her head turned slowly. He spoke a little more firmly. "Jubilee. Look at me." Slowly she raised her eyes to his, and he saw the terror in her eyes. He frowned. "Why are you so scared of horses?"

                "I…I got in trouble at the servants' camp once. They chained me up in the horse barn, in a tiny stall next to this mean stallion. All night he was sniffing the wall and he kept kicking at it and whinnying. The wall finally broke. He kept lunging at me with his teeth and trying to kick me, and he got me once with a hoof on the back of my head. I remember feeling blood, and my head was hurting, and then I guess I passed out. I don't remember anything after that. But I was so scared of him. Everybody was scared of him. And they still left me all night with him."

                Logan dropped her hands and went outside so she wouldn't hear the cursing, stamping, and swearing he was doing over people who would chain a terrified child up with a dangerous outlaw horse. Finally he got himself calmed down enough to go back inside. She was still lying in her bed.

                He sat down, undid the long braids. Her hair tumbled out of it, thick and wavy. It was a little dirty, and tangled, but he loved the feel of it under his fingers. He ran his hand through it, feeling at her scalp, until he found the hairless scar on the back of her skull. She didn't flinch at his touch; but when he felt the size and thought about how young she must have been, he didn't wonder that she was terrified of horses. He stroked the tangled hair, idly wondering if he could get any of that soap that women used to clean their hair. How long had it been since she had a bath? And a comb wouldn't be a bad idea either. "Darlin'," he said softly, feeling her hand tighten around his, "I don't wonder yer so scared. I don't blame ya. But none o' my horses are that vicious; if they were I wouldn't keep 'em around. And ya rode a horse before, though ya might not remember. I put ya on Dark Star ta bring ya here. Do ya 'member that?" Slowly she nodded. He continued. "Pretty Girl's a little small fer ya, but she's the gentlest one I got. She ain't got a mean bone in her body, so ya don't gotta be scared o' her. Will ya give her a try? Just fer me?"

                She nodded again.

                Pretty Girl stood still by the mounting block, eyes half-closed in the afternoon sun, lazily chewing on the bit in her mouth as Logan helped Jubilee climb onto the stump. "All right," he coaxed, encouraged by the sight of her really trying. "Now put your hands around the saddle horn there," and he pointed to the protrusion at the front of the saddle. "And pull yourself up." She scrambled astride, and he shortened her stirrups a bit. "Put your feet in there. Good. Here's the reins. Hold them in your hand, one side in each hand, like this," he positioned her hands, "And I'm going to start her off on a walk." He went to the center of the corral, picking up the other end of the lunge line attached to Pretty Girl's bit, and picked up the long handled whip. Jubilee was concentrating so hard on staying on the horse she didn't see the whip, and he kept it trailing in the dust so it wouldn't frighten her. "All right. Take yer heel, kid, an' touch her lightly with it. That's it, turn yer foot out a little, touch her…right, now, she's walking. Ya got her ta walk. Good girl!" She flushed at the praise and her death grip on the reins loosened a little. Logan smiled. He'd attached the reins to the headstall, not the bit. Pretty Girl would have been running by now from the pressure of that grip on her reins. "Good. Keep yer back straight, head up, heels down. No, don't look down," he said, seeing the kid's eyes dropping down to the ground and checking out how far she really was off the ground. "Ya look down, yer gonna get scared 'gain. Keep lookin' straight 'tween them big black an' white ears." Her eyes obediently returned to Pretty Girl's ears.

                They walked in circles for a long while, until finally he saw the hands on those reins go completely slack. She never let them go, which was good; but she wasn't grabbing them like she'd done when she first got on. "Right. Now, we're gonna pick up the pace a little. Hang on." He signaled to Pretty Girl with a gentle cluck and a twitch on the lunge line, and the pony patiently broke into a sedate trot. Logan almost laughed when he saw the kid start bouncing around like a sack of flour. "Brace yourself against the stirrups, there, kid. Press yer feet against them. Yep, like that. That's right. Good." He waited until she settled and wasn't bouncing so much, then slowed Pretty Girl down to a walk. The next half-hour they practiced changing gaits, from walking to trotting, and finally Logan decided they'd had enough. He slowed Pretty Girl down and walked the pony to the stump. "All right," he said, holding his hands up to catch the kid as she awkwardly tumbled out of the saddle. She didn't weigh much, and for a moment he treasured the feel of the small body leaning so trustingly against his hands. The moment passed as he set her down, and he grinned. "Hey. Good job for a first timer. We'll take it easy, a little at a time, till yer okay with ridin', huh?" he ruffled her loose hair. "Go on in and get yerself a plate a' them leftovers from breakfast. I gotta finish up with a coupla horses 'fore I call it quits." She went off up to the house, her dress skirt flapping, and he grinned as he untacked Pretty Girl and whistled for Dark Star. He'd have to consider getting her a saddle that would fit her; his was just a little too big.

                He tacked up Dark Star and swung on the horse's back. They started with an easy walk, then when the horse was warmed up they swung into a trot, then a canter, and a gallop. The kid stood by the fence with a plate and fork, eating while she watched. Satisfied that she was okay, he focused on what he was doing and didn't look up until he was walking Dark Star in a circle to cool the horse down.

                The kid wasn't alone by the fence; Red Doe and Running Wolf were there too. The kid had edged a little away from them, but at least she wasn't running away. He swung Dark Star to a stop beside the fence and gripped Running Wolf's arm in the traditional greeting. "Hey," he said.

                Running Wolf smiled. "We wished to see how you were getting along with your new companion," he said. "And Red Doe had a few things for her."

The tone of voice was the one he used when he was referring to women's things, and Logan grinned. "Hey, kid?" he said. She sidled up next to him. "Go with Red Doe, okay? She's got some stuff fer ya. We men gotta jaw a bit." He watched as the girl started off toward the house, Red Doe beside her. Shortly thereafter, Red Doe came out of the house and got a bucket of water from the well, carrying it back into the house.

"How is she?" Running Wolf said. "She looks happier."

"I think so," Logan grinned. "She's scared a horses, but I think we're makin' progress on that. She got kicked in the head by an outlaw a while back; I seen the scar; but she's comin' 'long."

"We went hunting yesterday," Running Wolf said. "We passed the Iron Road on the way. The leader there is not so happy, we think; he was shouting a great deal. And there were soldiers in the town. I do not know if it has anything to do with you, friend, but I thought I might warn you. That man does not look like he gives up possessions easily."

Logan gritted his teeth. "He ain't got no right," he snapped angrily. "What he done to her was terrible. Thank God she don't seem like she's damaged, but she got scars an' she ain't too comfortable 'round others. She only talks ta me an' Red Doe. If that man comes here lookin' fer her he's gonna have a little talk with my knife. I done already warned him. I ain't warnin' him again." He gritted his teeth as he led Dark Star out of the corral, removed the tack, and let the horse drink as he checked the horse's shoes and started to curry the dried sweat out of the black coat. When the horse was glossy black and dry, he turned him loose in the big pasture, picked up the grooming materials, and headed off to the barn to stow the stuff.

When he came out of the barn he was greeted by a happy whoop. He stopped and stared. Jubilee was running across the grass toward him, her long dark hair flying behind her. It was still damp, but when Logan grabbed her as she ran to hug him he smelled a sweet scent in her hair. She was clean, too; the residual dirt on her skin was washed off, leaving nothing but clean pale skin with only a few dusky bruises here and there. She wore a dress he'd seen in the pile Red Doe had brought for her, and underneath she wore proper women's underthings. He grinned as she looked up at him. "Feel better?"

"It's been a while since I had a bath," she said happily. "Red Doe brought this sweet smelling stuff and showed me how to wash my hair properly, and she brought this comb that took all the tangles out, look…" and she drew her fingers through her hair easily. "And I've never felt this clean before, oh, it's wonderful!" She spread her arms wide, threw her head back, and laughed at the sky. Logan grinned at her. Then she took off running toward the house again.

Running Wolf looked after her. "My friend, I don't envy you."

Logan frowned. "Huh?"

"There are plenty of young men in my camp who would wish to pursue a closer relationship with a beauty such as she," he said. "You will need to build another barn to hold the courting gifts they will bring for her."

"They won't want her," Logan said grimly. "Did Red Doe tell ya? Them male slaves who work on the railroad were permitted ta force themselves on her."

"Yes, she told me. Young men of the People will not care, my friend. White men might; but our boys will not care. She is beautiful, and she has spirit. If she can learn the skills proper to becoming a good wife, she will not lack for suitors…or even casual company."

Logan set his jaw. "There's a long time fer that," he said stiffly. He couldn't imagine anyone with his sweet little girl. He didn't want to.

Running Wolf stared at him thoughtfully. "Yes," he said finally. "There is a lot of time for that." He took Logan's arm. "Come. I smell Red Doe's touch in the evening meal."