Shiver by CM Foss Page B

to see what you do and how you do it. It’s time for you to show me.” He smiled a little. It was the first smile I’d seen since these horses arrived, and I’d take it.
    He started to walk into the stall with me, and I gestured for him to remain back. “No, wait. First I’ll do the pad and the saddle myself and work with the girth, turning them both directions. You stand outside for support if I need it. Then tomorrow, if we feel they’re ready for me to lie across them and get on, you come in. Okay?”
    “Sounds good.”
    I threw him a quick look over my shoulder before getting to the task at hand. The crop of horses consisted of six colts and four fillies. Typically, colts were a little easier to break just because they’re less sensitive. It didn’t mean they were any less smart, just not as reactive and hormonal. I empathized with the fillies. Anyway, all these horses had had basic groundwork done, meaning they’d been handled and led and groomed, et cetera. More or less domesticated. They were ready to begin the saddling and riding process.
    We passed from stall to stall. I ran the saddle pad along the entirety of each horse’s body, from ears to toes, both sides. I used my body language and a rope to turn the horses in different directions, moving them away from pressure. And I spent time jumping up and down and basically flailing all around them like an idiot so that they learned not to be startled too easily. Then I placed the saddle on each horse’s back. It wasn’t heavy at all, but it had to feel funny. I moved them around with only the weight of the saddle before I attached the girth to one side and ran it under their bellies. This was where many of them were extremely sensitive. I flopped the girth around, tickling them and turning them this way and that before buckling it gently around them. I could get a good read on how each horse would be to ride just based on how they reacted to the girth slowly tightening. Many of them didn’t mind at all, whereas a couple of them hunched up their backs and scooted forward or bucked. None of them had any abnormal or unfounded reactions, and I was pretty comfortable about moving on with them over the coming weeks.
    That first day was about feeling them out and getting to know them. I enjoyed getting to connect with the horses I rode and trained. It was only possible to a limited extent when they were with you for a few months or whenever you knew they’d be moving on. But there was always something to enjoy, even if it made me a big softie.
    As I exited the last stall, Ethan took the saddle from me and latched the door. He’d been largely silent the past couple of hours, merely observing and listening to me explain myself to him or talk to the horses. After I passed the tack off, I bent over, dropping my head down toward my feet and letting my arms hang. I hadn’t even noticed the tension and tightness in my body until that moment, but the stretching felt so good. I rose back up to meet Ethan’s eyes.
    “You okay?” he asked.
    “Yeah. I just had no idea how tight I was.” I raised my arms over my head to keep stretching. “I’m gonna be a mess when I actually start riding these guys.”
    “Yeah, we should probably figure a weekly massage into your salary for this.”
    I raised a brow and smiled. “You’re so right. We should.” We stared at each other for a moment until I gave a little cough to break the tension and we walked side by side back to the tack room. Despite carrying all the gear, Ethan still held the door for me, allowing me to pass through first. My tired body appreciated the gesture. Well, I always appreciated it when a man held a door for a woman, but I was really feeling it then. We wordlessly tidied up the laundry and saddles before I struggled out of my boots and slid into my flip-flops. Charlie was right by my side, and I gave her a good head scratch as I gathered my things to walk out the door with a soft good-bye.
    I got home