The Cowgirl's Dreams [COMPLETED]

8• A Race with the Rain

I drag the soft brush over Remy's newly clean coat. He looks back and sniffs my hip pocket, checking for treats the fourth time today. I smile and stroke his snip. His black halter restrains him from reaching his neck any further than it is, but he doesn't give up the search for his beloved apples.

I swipe a few chips of sawdust off his barrel and pat his soft neck. After last night, I'm ready for a day of relaxation with my Rem-Rem. I adjust the blanket over his fatty back and toss the saddle on and do up the cinch. I switch his lead rope out with the silver headstall and lead him to the shaded paddock. It's only about 60°F out so not bad riding weather, though there is a 92% chance of precipitation.

I slide the left rein over his black mane and hop on and walk about eight large circles. I motion him forward and slightly nudge his barrel with my boot. He gradually lunges into a slow trot. He progresses in speed as I lean forward and click my tongue. We soon meet a high lope and around the three set barrels we go. When I start to slow him down, a certain voice echoes past me. Logan.

"Pretty good on a horse that's freshly five years old...and that has been ridden maybe...ten times?" He declares. I raise my eyebrows at his conclusion. I know Remy crow hopped a tad when I got on, but I passed it off as just feeling good in the cool air. I slow Remy and lead him through the gate to the water trough. He sips through his hackamore and blinks at me. I grasp the left rein and walk the short four feet to Logan.

"Ten times? Well now it's 13. And thank you." I smile and blush. He tips his hat up and leans on the green fence. Swiping a strand of hair out of my face, I look him in his gorgeous blue eyes. He smiles that smile that makes my stomach flitter around with butterflies. A tense silence descends between us and at the last moment, Remy trots over and paws the ground toward Logan. I laugh and tell Logan to go get his Shiloh mare. There's a small racetrack around a big willow tree about a hundred yards from here.

Logan must notice the excitement bursting inside me, because as he leads out his tacked mare, he asks,

"What, do you wanna race?" I nod wildly, almost falling off Remy as I get on. We walk the circle two times, trot twice and lope it once, warming them up. As we get back to the starting point, he calls it.

"On your marks...get set...GO!" But before he finishes, I pet Rem-Rem and whisper,

"You can do this, bud. I know you can." As the word GO echoes past me, I give Remy his head and kick him into a high gallop. I turn a bit to Logan, who's just a head behind me.

"Three times around?" I yell through the wind. He agrees and speeds Shiloh up. I kick Remy softly and give him my trust, my permission to go as fast as need be. He takes me a horses length ahead of Logan and continues to go faster. I stop kicking him, for fear of pushing him to his physical limit and hurting him. But he stays ahead.

And...we fly past the post. One circle!

Logan flashes me a smile as he catches up. This is so much fun! The wind carries my hair behind me, off my back and in the air. I grin as we glide forward smoothly. This stallion feels like I'm riding water!

We go two more laps and Logan gets to the post just seconds before me. The track is ¼ of a mile, so we ran ¾ of a mile. I follow Logan's lead as we walk the horses, calming them down. A few sweat lines mark Remy's neck but overall he's still got some go. I ride out to the tack room and get his saddle off and brush the saddle marks that were hidden under the blanket away. I change out his bridle for a halter and take him out to the wash stall. I lead him in the first and Logan gets Shiloh in the one across from me. I smile as we tie our horse's lead ropes on the same post. I reach out the extendable hose and turn the handle, releasing a spurt of cool water. I run it down Remy's back, flooding off brown water. He relaxes as I pour a line of soap down his spine and scrub it down his auburn sides, making bubbles form on him. I wash down his legs and cannon bones, getting the dirt to cascade off. I scrub his black tail, de-tangle his mane, and soap down his forelock.