Holding You

Pointing at me, he said, “You said the M word and that’s close enough.” Opening the door to his truck, my father climbed up into the driver’s seat. Starting the truck, he looked at me. “Seriously though, Colt. Always use protection, you’re both too young to be starting a family right now.”



Feeling my face heat up, I nodded my head. “Yes, sir.”



“Stop staring at the pasture and go find something productive to do. I’m sure Scott’s got something he can put you on. When do you start working for him?”



“Next week. He wanted to give Lauren and me a couple weeks off. I’ll head on over there now and see what he’s got going on.”



“Good, it will keep your mind off of Lauren and before you know it, she’ll be back,” my father said as he smiled big. Nodding in agreement I took a step away from his truck. “See you for dinner, Colt.”



Lifting my hand I said, “See ya later, Dad. Thanks for the talk.”



Laughing, he started pulling off but not before sticking his head out the window and shouting, “You should have seen your face! Priceless!”



Letting out a chuckle, I turned and headed to my truck to make my way to Scott and Jessie’s place. A part of me didn’t want to head over until Lauren came back. I knew she was still struggling with her father and the business. I made a mental note to talk to Scott about it before Lauren came back.



WALKING INTO THE barn, I heard Scott talking to someone. “You honestly think this horse can’t be trained?” My interest immediately piqued.



“Listen, Scott, I appreciate that you’ve been doing this for years and your daddy did it for years before you. I think on this one you need to stick to what you do best. Find a good match to breed him to and leave it at that.”



Scott huffed and he shook his head as he let out a frustrated sigh. Glancing over he gave me a quick head pop and turned back to the older gentleman in front of him. “He’s fast, Jon, and he’s got it in him to be a damn good racehorse. He just needs the right hand when it comes to training him.”



I’d never seen the man standing before Scott. He looked to be about the same age as Gramps. His cowboy hat and boots had seen better days. I was almost positive the man was worth a few million, most of Scott’s clients were. Scott had some of the best stallions and mares in central Texas, almost all from bloodlines that would make the queen of England envious.



“I don’t know, Scott. He’s temperamental and won’t for the life of him breed with a mare. He acts like he has no interest in them at all. That’s why I brought him to you. I’m not interested in racing a horse who won’t even move to breed.”



Clearing my throat, both men looked at me. “You’ve got something to say young man.” Looking to Scott for permission to speak, he smiled and motioned for me to speak.



Walking to Jon, I reached out my hand and gave him a firm handshake. “Colt Mathews, sir.”



Raising his eyebrows he asked, “Gunner Mathews’ boy?”



Smiling wide, I replied. “Yes, sir I am.”



Looking me over he nodded his head. “Well speak, son; I’m eighty-two years old and don’t got all day.”



Chuckling, I nodded my head. “Your stallion, you say he isn’t interested in the mares. Could it be it’s because he’s interested in something else? Say for instance, taking off around that track? I heard my Uncle Jeff tell a story about a stallion who, every time they walked him by the track, he’d go insane. Wouldn’t have anything to do with the mares and carried on day after day in his stall. My uncle took him to the track and the horse stood there and stared at my uncle. Taking a chance, he climbed up on him and next thing he knew, the horse was running the fastest lap he’d ever recorded on his track.”



Giving me an incredulous stare, Jon slowly nodded. “So, are you willing to climb onto this big boy’s back and prove to me what you’re saying?”



My heart began to beat faster as I looked over at the bay colored stallion. His nostrils flared as we made eye contact. I felt something there though. Not really sure how to put it into words, I walked over to the horse and ran my hands down his neck. Feeling the horse shudder, I slowly made my way around him. Touching him the entire time. It was something Lauren had taught me to do. Connect with the horse on every level, she would always say.



“Has he ever had anyone sit on him?”



Laughing, Jon said, “He has yes. He doesn’t mind you getting the saddle on and climbing on top, but the moment you try to get the stubborn ass mule to move, he just stands there.”