Falls Chance part 12

There was something phenomenally peaceful about lying in this room
with Flynn only a few feet away.



The man slept as quietly and straightforwardly as he did everything
else. No snoring, no fidgeting, he simply lay face down, cheek on
one hard forearm, and got on with the job at hand. Dale lay on his
stomach and studied him, wondering from where he had got the
impression of Flynn as 'big'. He was well built, slightly above
average height, and the lines of shoulders and arms against the
white linen showed muscles worked hard and daily, but he was lean
and viewed objectively he wasn't unusually 'large' in any way. Yet
awake, he seemed titanic.



Awake or asleep, he radiated an aura of sheer calm. Not the
equanimity and hidden sparkle of Jasper's eyes and smile and lanky
body. Not the comfortable serenity that shone out of Paul. Flynn
radiated competence. Certainty and sheer strength, whether he was
hauling bales, handling a horse or talking to you when you'd gone
around the twist. Sleeping in his room with him like this, Dale
knew, was supposed to be something in the realm of a punishment, but
there was a safety in this room that wasn't supposed to exist
outside the realms of children's stories. Dale had never felt so
sheltered in his life. Nor had he ever felt so exposed, or worked so
hard. Yesterday had been – there weren't words to adequately
describe it. Cathartic. Both painful and ugly and an overwhelming
relief, like having an abscessed tooth pulled.



Dale turned over onto his back and looked up at the window beyond
the curtain. No one drew curtains in this house. They kept their
time by daylight as farmers do, and the outside was too beautiful to
shut away. For years, sleep had been something done in the early
hours of the morning, crammed into the few hours spared for it.
Here, where Flynn's rules were strict, you went to bed tired or not,
and you stayed in bed until you were called. And so you lay, warm
and comfortable and with the house peaceful around you and the faint
outdoor sounds coming through the window, and your mind wandered and
drifted like the river across the pastures.



"Hi."



Dale glanced over towards Flynn's bed, startled. Flynn gave him one
of his quick smiles, rolling to his feet. "Been awake long?"


"Half an hour." Dale raised up on his elbows. "What time is it?"



"Just gone six." Flynn stretched his arms up over his head, making
his shoulders crack. "A little early for breakfast. Suppose we grab
something to eat from the kitchen and slip out quietly? I want to
see where Bandit has the mares."















There was an odd sense of a treat in breaking the usual
morning routine. Dale dressed in the now familiar jeans and t shirt,
and in the kitchen pulled on boots and a Stetson while Flynn pulled
rolls out of the bread bin. They ate while they collected tack from
the stables, walked with it together down to the corral and Hammer
came eagerly to the gate at the sight of Dale, huffing in the still
cool morning air and swinging his big, dark head. Dale put a hand
over his nose to push him back while he opened the gate, and thumped
the heavy bulk of his neck low down where he liked it, slinging the
saddle off his shoulder and across his broad back. Leo, pacing
across to Flynn from the feed bins, stamped warningly at Gucci who
was hopefully nosing at the tack Flynn carried and stuck his nose
into the bridle as Flynn lifted it, with a very definite air of 'so
there' aimed at his stable mate. Gucci was still huffing
disappointedly over the gate at them when they mounted up and rode
through the yard towards the home pastures that lay to the south of
the ranch house.



It was bright, the sun starting to gather strength and turn the
pastures emerald green and the overhead sky an electric blue, and to
warm the saddles so that the leather scent was strong as they rode.
The horses were fresh and keen to stretch their legs, and even
stolid Hammer was difficult to keep down to a walk. Once the home
pastures gate was shut behind them, Dale let Hammer's reins out and
Hammer launched gladly into his long, easy canter that swept over
the ground. He and Leo raced each other for a while and Flynn and
Dale let them have their heads, jumping them over the small streams
that cut through the green grass to the south west, heavy hooves
thundering on the turf. As they came towards the valleys and the
steep hills to the south of the airstrip, Flynn drew Leo down to a
walk and Dale gathered Hammer in, bringing him around in a wide
circle to walk beside Leo. The cantering had left them both
breathless and Dale could never help the smile breaking across his
face whenever he did it. It was more intoxicating than a
rollercoaster, being part of a living, breathing, thinking
locomotive like Hammer. Flynn caught his eye and Dale saw him
smiling too, his face flushed with the morning cool and the
exertion. There had never been anything like this sense of
companionship anywhere in Dale's life before. The phrase 'working
together' meant nothing, until it was this physical, this dynamic,
with as much silent communication as spoken, whether it was re
wiring a fence or moving a herd or simply travelling like this. At
times like this, it was staggering to realise how far priorities had
shifted in his own mind. The thought of sitting at a desk was as
pointless as it was soulless as it was lonely. With the very many
powerful men in the most powerful business cities in the world who
had always been his colleagues and role models, Dale compared them
to Flynn with his strong hands and his blunt, straightforward morals
and every one of those men came up wanting. That whole way of life
came up wanting. To be here, outside in this bright blue skied
morning was to feel intensely, almost unbearably alive.



They walked the horses uphill, the ground rising in the first of the
rolling foothills, and winding slowly around one of the streams that
fed the river. About an hour from the ranch, Dale saw movement in
the distance, in a valley where the stream grew wider and faster
over a rocky bed, and caught sight of the herd scattered below them,
mares and foals grazing on the green grass by the water.



"Bandit's missed us." he said to Flynn, reining Hammer in to watch.
Flynn shook his head, indicating a hill further on from the herd.
The big stallion stood like a rock, head turned, ears forward,
watching their approach.



"He saw us before we saw him. Heard us coming – or scented us. Look
at the herd formation down there." Flynn sat back in the saddle,
wrists crossed easily on his lap. "This time in the morning, good
conditions, good weather, they feel safe and they're spread out, but
they're still in formation and they'd close up in a minute if need
be. See Marika?"

"She's the lead mare." Dale picked her out, grazing near the centre
of the group. Several other mares with foals were close to her.



"Yes. The herd puts the high status members at the centre. Best
protected and in the strongest position to lead. The further out the
mares stand from the centre, the lower their status and the more
they're herd protectors. The ones right on the edge of the group are
on point, see how they're stood with their backs to Marika? Watching
for danger. And whatever they're doing, you'll see there's never
less than two facing where they've come from, forming the rearguard."

It looked so casual. Just horses, grazing. And yet when you looked
at the deeper pattern you could see the lines of defence, a wild
herd independent and alert, and even in their casual grazing, heads
regularly lifted and looked, keeping watch. Flynn started Leo
forward again, walking down the valley.



"The lead mare is the stallion's favourite – sometimes just the one
he likes best. But the high status mares in the herd tend to be the
best breeders. The stallions instinctively know good blood. Natural
selection, the best is best protected to continue the line. The
foals Bandit and Marika are keeping in the middle, you can bet will
be the finest of this year's stock."



"Are all herds organised like this?"



"Ones left to run free as they would in the wild." Flynn said
mildly. "You see the results in the quality of the bloodlines and
the fertility of the herd. Bandit breeds true every time, and almost
every mare in the herd foals successfully each year because he and
every mare have their own relationship. I could sit up here and
watch them for hours. Horses form incredibly highly organised social
groups. Look at some of Philip's books in the study some time,
there's a shelf of horse behaviourist work."



And there was a depth of knowledge in those simple comments that
spoke worlds to Dale. Flynn, Riley, Paul, Jasper, they were
intelligent men who had given that intelligence and years of
experience to learning things about the land around them and the
animals they cared for, that most people would never be aware of.
There was nothing simple or mindless about the work here, there was
knowledge enough to keep a man learning every day of his life, and
Philip – Philip, who's advice CEOs had flown out here to seek – must
have discovered that. David, who had lived a wild life and had
finally settled here, must have known that.



Bandit had recognised them. Dale saw him make his way unhurriedly
down into the midst of the herd, pausing by a mare who raised her
head and looked towards him, and Bandit rubbed his neck against
hers, standing with her for a moment. Then he stepped towards two of
the small foals who were dancing and bouncing in the grass some way
from their mothers. One of them promptly stretched his head up to
Bandit, who bent his great head on his heavy neck to touch noses.
The other foal bounced sideways and scampered away, and the big
stallion suddenly bounced back, chasing in a circle around the foal,
his massive feet perilously close but never contacting and the foal
bounding with excitement and not the slightest trace of fear. When
Bandit dropped into a walk and moved through the mares to Marika,
the foal trotted alongside him, butting at his sire's flank with his
little head.



"How is Marika his favourite?" Dale asked, watching the stallion
drop his head to graze alongside the lead mare, lifting his head
once more to scent the wind and watch while he chewed.



"He's got a big herd here." Flynn led the way down a steeper part of
the slope, leaning back to help Leo balance. "Like with people,
there are casual friendships and closer friendships. Some of the
mares he'll spend more time with and show particular affection for.
With Marika, there's active courtship behaviour between them even
when she's in foal."

"How can you tell?"



Flynn gave him a brief smile. " He'll nuzzle and nip at them, push
at them and there's a lot of whickers and sounds. Belle flirts with
Bandit and he flirts back – Paul calls her the scarlet woman. Lots
of biting and chasing and posturing. But he'll spend a lot of his
time with Marika and herd her to keep her with him. He'll take foals
out on patrol with him too from his favourite mares, I've seen that
happen plenty of times. He'll go to their mothers to collect one or
two, and they'll go off with him dancing and excited like kids going
on an outing."



They'd reached the valley floor and Flynn rode slowly around the
perimeter of the herd. From experience after weeks of working the
ranch under his direction, Dale looked too at the condition of each
animal, watching for signs of a limp in the walk, a dull coat or
weight lost especially in the foals, one standing apart from the
others.



"Belle's foaled." Flynn commented with exasperation, nodding at the
mare who was grazing while a very small foal nursed beside
her. "She's a contrary so and so, she never gives us any warning or
time to bring her in, she just goes off and does it by herself."



"It's tiny," Dale said slowly, watching the little beast drink. "It
looks just like Bandit, it's going to be his colour."



"Can't be more than a day old." Flynn said wryly. "It looks fine, no
need to bring her or it in now. They're on the safest territory on
the ranch here and amazingly, she's a good mother. And Marika won't
take them far while it's so tiny. I want to go further down the
valley and check the streams are clear."



Dale turned Hammer to follow, watching Belle lick at her foal. Leo
pulled a little at the reins and Flynn let him stop at the stream
side, waiting while Leo ducked his head to the water and drank. It
happened so fast that Dale barely saw it. Leo shook his head,
splashing water and the foal on the other side of the stream
startled hard as it felt the spray. A second later Belle bolted
across the stream and into Leo, teeth bared and screaming. Leo
reared in panic, Bandit exploded out of the herd of mares towards
them and Belle lashed out with her hind feet, catching Leo still
rearing.



Leo seemed to fall in slow motion. Dale felt his stomach turn to ice
as he realised the big gelding was tipping past the point of
balance, he saw Flynn kick the stirrups free but he and Leo seemed
to go down together on the grass. Belle lashed out again and Dale
dug his heels into Hammer, charging her and shouting at the top of
his lungs.



"Belle, back off! Get back!"



The shout and Hammer's pushing between her and Leo made her retreat.
She watched for a moment, snorting, then returned to her foal and it
followed her as she moved away, closer to the other mares. Bandit
reached them and dropped from a gallop to a high trot, circling them
with his ears back, watching. Dale flung himself down from Hammer's
back. Leo rolled for a moment, and Dale couldn't see Flynn, then Leo
lurched to his feet and Flynn was behind him, sitting up on the
grass. He raised a hand as Dale ran to him, looking rather dazed.



"I'm ok. I'm ok, he didn't land on me."


Grabbing him was not going to help. Dale dropped on his knees on the
grass and lightly put a hand on Flynn's back, unable not to touch
him, feeling Flynn's heart thundering under his palm. Flynn took a
few deep breaths and held his right forearm for a moment, massaging
it very gingerly and flexing his fingers, but his eyes were on Leo
who was tentatively touching his fore foot to the grass and then
raising it again quickly, limping slowly and painfully a few steps
before he stood still and shook. Dale instinctively braced Flynn as
he staggered to his feet, and followed him, hearing the softness of
Flynn's voice as he approached Leo, his good hand held out to catch
the bridle.



"All right. All right mate. Stand. Stand."

The stable command seemed to help. Numbed, Dale ducked automatically
under Flynn's arm and took the bridle, moving slowly enough not to
spook Leo, and Flynn knelt on the grass to run his hand down Leo's
forelegs, first the one he stood on and then the one he held up. He
spent several minutes feeling and manipulating, then sat back on his
heels, face expressionless.



"I can't tell."

"What might it be?" Dale said softly, holding Leo's head and
mechanically rubbing his nose.



"Tendon. Sprain. Fracture." Flynn moved to check Leo's back legs
briefly, then got up and rubbed his neck. "All right boy. It's all
right."

"What do you need?" Dale asked, watching him. Flynn looked up, hands
still on the shivering Leo.



"Stay here with him. I'll get the others and we'll move him back to
the ranch."

He looked white, and he was still favouring the forearm. Dale shook
his head without hesitation.



"I'll go. You handle Leo better than I can and you look shaky."

Flynn gave him a long and searching look, and then nodded. "Ok. Send
Jas up here, he'll know what we need. Then take Riley and get Raglan
and Boris. Riley will know where they are. They'll be strong enough
to walk Leo back in a sling." He began to unbuckle Leo's tack,
lightening the weight on him, and Dale came to help. "Bring Nekkid
back with you too, I'll ride him home. Remind Paul he can't bring
one of the four by fours up here or we'll be towing it out of a
stream, and ask him to track down Clara. Got all that?"



"Yes." Dale said as a statement of fact, still watching him. "Will
you be all right?"



"I'm fine." Flynn put Leo's saddle down on the grass. "Don't run
Hammer into the ground, there's no need."

No need, leaving him after a fall like that? Dale made no comment,
took Hammer's bridle and swung himself up into the saddle, trying
not to too obviously watch Flynn or Leo as he headed Hammer north
east towards the ranch.













Breakfast was over and Jasper was visible in the corral
as Dale trotted Hammer into the yard. He straightened up as Dale
waved, and Riley, in sight with a broom sweeping out the stables,
came out of the open door.



"Hey! We missed you at breakfast - what have you done with Flynn?"


"Leo had a fall." Dale slid to the ground and hooked the rein over
the porch rail with no time to waste on pleasantries. "Flynn wants
Raglan and Boris. He said they can walk Leo back in a sling, he's
damaged a foreleg."

"Hell." Riley said eloquently, throwing the broom back towards the
stables and heading towards the corral at a run. "Jas!"



Jasper, who had started to walk towards them, broke into a run. Dale
left Riley to explain and took the porch steps several at a time.
Paul was washing dishes and talking to Gerry and both looked up in
surprise as Dale appeared in the kitchen.


"Good morning-" Paul started to say cheerfully, and then stopped,
his face changing. "What's happened?"



"Leo fell, he's hurt a foreleg. Flynn's hurt an arm." Dale said
briefly, going to the cupboard where the water bottles lived and
taking three to the tap to fill them. It was getting hot outside and
neither he nor Flynn had taken much water with them, not planning to
be out long. "He said to remind you that the four by four won't go
up there, and he's going to walk Leo back in a sling."



"Oh God." Gerry said in shock. "Is he all right? How did he fall?"


"How hurt and how bad?" Paul opened a cupboard and pulled down a
pack which he sorted through rapidly, coming up with a card of
pills.



"No blood." Dale fastened the bottles and slung the straps over his
shoulder, not for the first time wondering if anything at all
panicked Paul. "He's favouring the arm but he can move his fingers.
Leo's not standing on the leg. Flynn asked for you to call Clara."



"I'll go and get her, it'll be quicker." Paul opened the freezer and
took out several plastic packs, then dug in yet another cupboard for
a small insulated bag. "Take these, make Flynn take the painkillers
and use the ice on himself as well as Leo. Was he ok otherwise?"



"He asked me to take Nekkid back for him." Dale said steadily,
looking straight at Paul.



And you know exactly what that means, don't you? Paul thought,
getting the message Dale was giving him. Nekkid was one of the most
stolid, easy horses they had, the safest transport for someone
needing to sit rather than ride.

"I'll get Nekkid," Gerry said, dodging past Dale to get to the door.
Dale followed him and Paul put out a hand to stop him.



"Dale. Dale. Look at me. Are you ok?"



Dale met his eyes, surprised, barely breaking his stride out of the
door.



"Me? …Yes."



He might as well have added stop wasting time!



Riley and Jasper were assembling kit in the yard and Riley was
rapidly tacking up Snickers and Gucci. Dale untied Hammer and led
him across to the water trough by the stables, making a quick and
careful judgement on the big gelding's condition and fitness for
another ride. Not tired, not fed up, and well aware something was
afoot. He was watching Snickers even while he drank. Riley tightened
Snickers' girth and swung up into his saddle, gathering up his
reins.



"Jas, I'm going with Dale to get the other horses."

"I've got everything else we'll need." Jasper said calmly. "Where
exactly, Dale?"



"Third valley south west from the home pastures, about four miles
where the creek gets wide and rocky." Dale dug a foot up in the
stirrup and pulled himself up onto Hammer's broad back, walking him
to join Riley. As they walked out of the yard, he saw Jasper pull
keys from his pocket and head into the house.



"Paul's gone to get Clara," Dale said to Riley as Riley led him
along the fence line of the stable pastures, two head collars and
leading reins looped on his saddle, his face unusually reserved.



"Clara does an early morning surgery at her place," Riley said over
his shoulder. "Small animals, before she does her rounds. Quicker to
go over there than to get her to answer a phone. What happened?"



"Leo spooked Belle and she's foaled. She charged Leo and he went
over backwards." Dale nudged Hammer into a trot to keep pace with
Riley. Riley didn't answer. The fenced paddocks went back for some
way from the stables in a long line, and were well sized. The
yearlings looked up with interest as they passed, but Riley kept
moving, heading for a paddock where three big, heavy boned Clysdale
horses were grazing peacefully.



"You've got shire horses!" Dale said, startled for a few seconds out
of grim anxiety.



"They pull hay wagons, cars out of the mud, they're our triple A
service." Riley said shortly, dismounting and climbing the
fence. "Open the gate."

The Clysdales came gladly to Riley, surrounding him, and Dale saw
him pull his hand out of his pocket, sharing around some of the oats
he and the others often carried. He slipped head collars onto the
roan and the paint shires and they followed him through the gate,
padding placidly after him. Dale shut the gate and took the lead
rope on the paint shire.


"Boris?"



"Yes. That's Petra ." Riley nodded at the remaining shire who was
shambling alongside them on the other side of the fence, and mounted
Snickers, clicking to Raglan who willingly moved his massive feet
into a trot.



The big horses moved at a steady, heavy speed over the grass
although not at the canter both Dale and Riley would have preferred,
and Riley said very little while they rode. It was an hour before
they came down into the valley where Gerry and Jasper were visible
by the stream below, with Flynn who was sitting on the grass. Leo
was standing with Jasper, and even from this distance Dale could see
Bandit with his light mane and tail. The big stallion was standing
neck to neck with Leo and nosing at him. As they reached the stream
side Dale saw the stallion was licking him gently.



They dismounted on the banks of the stream and Dale caught Raglan's
leading rein from Riley as Riley slid to the ground and went
straight to Gucci, pulling up the flap of the saddle.



"It's not that bad, Ri." Jasper called over, but Dale saw with Riley
the heavy barrel of a shotgun strapped in place. Not the usual light
rifle, but something far more powerful. His stomach went cold and he
looked sharply at Flynn, realising what Jasper had gone back into
the house for and why Riley was so tense. Flynn was still pale and
sitting on the grass, the forearm across his chest and Riley went to
him next, stooping without a word to wrap his arms very gently
around Flynn's neck. His face was against Flynn's so Dale couldn't
see either of their expressions, but Flynn put his good hand up to
clasp Riley's head and Dale heard his voice, quiet and matter of
fact.



"It's ok half pint. No one's dead or dying."



Riley didn't move. Dale took the ice bag, the water and the pills
Paul had given him, deliberately not looking and pretending not to
have seen until Riley straightened up and went to stand with Jasper
who was wrapping Leo's foreleg despite the gelding's wincing.



"What is it? A break?"



"No." Jasper said decisively. "Nothing that bad. This is a strain,
and Flynn's going to be black and blue, but neither of them have
anything serious."



Riley muttered something to Leo and put an arm around the gelding's
neck, leaning his forehead against Leo's coat. Dale led the placid
shires with him to kneel by Flynn, offering the pills and the
water.



"Paul sent these. He said the ice was for you as well as Leo."

Flynn gave him a wry smile and took the pills, unscrewing the top of
one of the water bottles. He drank for some time. Dale unzipped the
bag, took out the ice packs and the towel covering them, and wrapped
the towel around the packs. Flynn accepted the wrapped bundle and
gingerly rested his arm against it.



"He ought to be lying down." Jasper said without looking, continuing
to wrap.



"He is fine." Flynn shifted his arm against the ice, wincing
slightly. "How bad is that leg swelling? Do you want ice?"



"Not while it's wrapped, and he's doing fine. We'll walk him back
before it really balloons. Ri, get those slings?"



Riley moved silently to the bag of kit on Gucci's saddle. The wide
cloth bands and straps made no sense to Dale but Riley began to
buckle them onto Raglan without hesitation. Flynn shut his eyes
against the sun, ducking his head. Dale hesitated for a moment, then
touched Flynn's shoulder. Flynn didn't take much pressing. He lay
slowly back in the thick grass, resting the arm and the ice across
his chest. Dale knelt where he was on the grass beside him, seeing
the tight lines across Flynn's forehead. This hurt more than he was
admitting. Jasper finished the strapping around Leo's foreleg and
straightened up, stretching his back and rubbing Leo's face gently
with both hands. Bandit was still nuzzling him, licking at his chest
and hocks, and it appeared to be helping. Leo was shivering but
standing still and he'd let Jasper do what he wanted without
protest.



"Well this is fun," Gerry said conversationally, standing holding on
to Nekkid and Moo, who were busy, like the brood mares,
grazing. "I'd forgotten what Grass and Horses were like."



Riley lifted his head and Looked at him. Gerry shrugged.



"Well it's different, that's all. I'm entitled to an opinion, I just
rode for the first time in months when I would rather not have sat
down at all today. I call that noble. As the lovely old film says,
I'm in mourning for my ass."



Riley turned his attention back to Raglan, and Gerry grinned.



"You hadn't even noticed yours, had you?"



"Shut up." Riley said briefly, working on the harness.



"Such equine passion." Gerry said sentimentally. Flynn spoke without
opening his eyes.



"Gerry, shut up."



"Shutting up now." Gerry met Dale's eyes with a definite twinkle
that Dale didn't understand at all. The teasing seemed quite
deliberate, poorly timed and less than helpful, but Gerry didn't
seem in the least abashed.



"Can I help?" Dale asked Riley quietly. Riley shook his head.



"Quicker to do than explain and I've almost done it. Jas?"



He led Raglan over to stand against Leo's side and Jasper took his
head collar while Riley went to get Boris. When he led the second
shire over, he clicked to Bandit who was standing in his way, and
eventually pushed to move the stallion back.



"Hey – talk to him from over there boy, we're trying to help too."

"I thought Bandit didn't like geldings." Dale said softly, watching.
Riley pulled the straps of the sling under Leo's belly to reach
Boris, buckling the sling into place.



"Leo's his son, and Bandit knows he's hurt." Flynn said beside him,
eyes still closed. "Foal from this herd. Makes a difference. They
remember. They always remember."



"That's set." Riley said to Jasper, who went to Raglan's side, and
between them they began to tighten the straps, fastening them until
the slings lifted Leo, not off his feet but taking a good part of
his weight between Raglan and Boris who stood calmly, unmoved by the
burden. Leo however promptly began to struggle, twisting and
whinnying, and Riley caught his head collar, soothing him. Boris
jerked as Leo kicked him and a second later Jasper jogged around to
free the straps, releasing Boris from the harness and leading him
out of the way of Leo's hooves.



"He's too freaked," Riley said in the same soothing voice he was
using to Leo, holding onto his head collar with both hands to stop
him tossing his head or backing as he wanted to. "Give him a few
minutes and we'll try again? Ok Leo. It's ok baby. It's fine."



Jasper put a hand against Leo's side and stood where Boris had been
standing, leaning his weight against the gelding's shoulder. Leo
calmed slowly, shivering and ducking his head down. Bandit rubbed
necks with him and whickered, a very soft, deep sound that Dale felt
more than heard. Flynn opened his eyes and then rolled up to his
feet, still holding his arm across his chest.



"Try it with Bandit in the harness."

"Bandit'll go nuts." Riley protested. Flynn shook his head.



"I've ridden him, he's halter trained."

"With the mares out here? He won't leave them."

Flynn flexed his elbow a few times, then handed the ice packs to
Dale and came to Boris, taking the head collar off him and walking
over to Bandit who was still nosing at Leo. Bandit didn't look for a
minute at the halter as Flynn held it out. Flynn waited, saying
nothing. Jasper stood very still, weight still against Leo's
shoulder, watching Flynn. Then Bandit lifted his head and Flynn
slipped the halter over, clicking softly to him. Bandit walked
quietly around in a circle and alongside Leo, and came to a halt
where Flynn stopped him. Leo lifted his head to touch Bandit's and
stood still, and Flynn leaned under Bandit's belly, taking the
straps and fastening the harness quietly over Bandit's back and
shoulders. He was not too far off a match for Raglan in height and
closer still in power, and this time when Flynn and Jasper tightened
the sling, lifting weight slowly from Leo's feet, Leo stood still
and quietly.



It was because Flynn was there. Dale could see the big stud stallion
standing calmly and he understood it as completely as Bandit did.
Flynn was the one holding the harness, Flynn was standing beside
him. This might be strange, but if this was what Flynn wanted then
it was all right.



"Riley and Dale," Flynn said quietly. "Start the mares moving and
keep them together where Bandit can see them. Watch out for the
foals and if Belle decides to be a bitch, let her go. We'll bring
her in later if need be. Gerry, take Boris and lead the way. Take it
slowly. Dale, catch Nekkid for me."



Jasper clicked to Raglan, and the big shire and Bandit took a few
steps forward, Leo stepping with his three good legs between them.



Dale circled to the back of the herd and from the other side, heard
Riley give the long, familiar whistle. All the mares lifted their
heads. It was a mathematical problem like a chess board or a pool
table. You touched one part to make other parts move, you positioned
yourself at the right trajectories, influencing the game before you -
Dale touched Hammer into a trot and approached a mare at the side
of the herd, and for a moment she watched him coming, apparently
baffled, then she began to walk ahead of him and the mares in front
of her stirred and began to walk too, bunching slowly together as
Dale moved at the apex of the triangle, steering them. On the other
side of the herd Riley had started the mares at the back walking and
within a few seconds the entire herd was on the move. On either side
of Bandit and Raglan, Flynn and Jasper stayed close, ready to
release the straps in an instant, but the harnessed group of three
moved smoothly, walking as if they had been training for years, and
the slow procession moved down through the pastures, over the grass
on their way home.











The mares pressed into the yard as they reached the ranch,
quickening their pace as they approached the corral, and Dale saw
the corral gate was open, and the gate beyond it that led from the
drive into open land had been closed. He leaned over from Hammer's
neck to close the home pastures gate behind them. The herd was
contained now in the ranch yard itself, and the mares wandered
towards the corral, pausing to graze on the drive. Riley slid down
from Snickers and tied up his reins, and Dale followed him, going to
the stable pasture where Jasper and Flynn were leading Raglan,
Bandit and Leo in their harness. The dark woman that Dale had seen
around the ranch before was sitting on the fence with Paul and as
Riley shut the stable pasture gate, she slid down, coming to help
unbuckle the sling.



"That looks like your work," she commented to Jasper, nodding at the
wrapping on Leo's leg as she reached them, and Jasper smiled but put
out a hand to warn her back.



"Give us a minute to get them free."

The woman stood back and her eyes widened as she saw who stood on
the other side of Leo.



"Tell me that isn't your stud?"



"Yes." Riley took Leo's head collar. Clara shook her head.



"It can't be. He's standing there like a lamb."

"He's a sweetheart and he's brighter than I am." Riley said shortly
and vehemently.



Jasper freed Raglan from the harness and Riley led Leo gently
forward out of the sling. Instantly, Flynn took the halter from over
Bandit's head and turned him loose, and the big stallion shook
himself, but made no effort to walk away. Flynn rubbed the
stallion's neck, watching Bandit survey the yard, contenting himself
that his mares were contained and safe. Then he wheeled and Dale saw
the huge muscles bunch in his haunches, gathering power which
suddenly exploded in two strides at the fence and he sailed over it,
landing lightly in the yard and pacing over to join Marika who was
grazing at the fence line.



"Well I feel safer with him out there than in here." Clara said
wryly, crouching to unwrap Leo's foreleg. Jasper stood with her and
Riley gave Leo's head collar over to him, coming to take Raglan.



"I'll walk the shires back."



"Gerry and Dale, turn the riding horses into the training pen,"
Jasper called. "Bandit won't like them loose around the mares.
Flynn, go inside and let Paul look at that arm."

"In a minute." Flynn climbed the fence and disappeared into the
barn, coming out with the wide black bucket that lived just inside
the door. It was half filled with oats and Bandit stepped
confidently towards him, knowing who they were for. Only one horse
on the ranch had the unfailing privilege of being hand fed. Flynn
held the bucket for him, and while Dale couldn't hear a sound, he
could see from Flynn's moving lips he was talking to the stallion
while he ate.



It took twenty minutes to extract the riding horses from Bandit's
herd, take the tack from them and turn them out into the training
pen, and Dale did the lion's share of it, more confident and
experienced with the horses than Gerry was, and simply moving a good
deal faster and more efficiently than Gerry, although he didn't
notice it. He filled the water trough in the pen when he was done
and the horses promptly nudged each other aside for a turn at
emptying it. Clara was still kneeling, working on Leo's foreleg, and
Riley was sitting on the fence, watching. The mares were grazing
along the yard. Paul was leaning on the porch, defending the pots of
flowers from several interested noses, and watching Belle's new
foal, who had curled up on the first patch of shaded grass and gone
to sleep. Gerry piled the last of the tack on the fence beside the
barn and stretched his back.



"We're going to be the rest of the day cleaning that lot. I haven't
been here twenty four hours yet and I'm already knackered."

"It'll do you good." Paul said, smiling at him. "You can write to
Ash and tell him how we're mistreating you."

"You think he'll be sympathetic?" Gerry demanded. "He keeps on at me
about a little seven pounds I put on at Christmas and how I don't
get enough exercise, he'll love this."



Bandit finished the last of the oats and Flynn hung the bucket on
the fence, crossing stiffly to stand beside Jasper, watching Clara
work.



"Do you want to look at Belle's foal before we turn them out?"

"Yes, I'll see to it." Jasper put his hand behind Flynn's head,
cupping and pushing him gently towards the house. "Leave it now. Go
and get that arm dealt with."



Flynn walked slowly up the porch steps and Paul straightened up off
the rail.



"Gerry, guard these pots for me please?"

"Can I do it lying down?" Gerry said languidly.



Dale hovered for a moment, feeling very surplus to requirement, an
eye on Clara working on Leo, the other on Paul who was waiting for
Flynn. Neither seemed to need him. He followed Flynn up the porch
steps and into the kitchen where Flynn sat down heavily on a kitchen
chair and surrendered to Paul easing his shirt off. Bare to the
waist, he was nut brown, a tan line showing on his upper arms where
his shirt usually rested. Bruises were already starting to darken
across the hard plains of his shoulders and Paul turned Flynn a
little to look at them, hands gentle.



"Are your ribs all right?"



Flynn turned slightly from side to side, raising his arms. "Seem to
be. I landed on my shoulders and that arm."


Paul leaned against the table and took Flynn's hand, working the
wrist and fingers before he felt gently along the bones of his
forearm. Flynn shut his teeth and turned his head away, catching
Dale's eye and making an attempt at a smile, although it didn't last
long.



Dale took a seat at the other end of the table, watching Paul rotate
Flynn's forearm from the elbow, palm up, then palm down.



"I don't think you've damaged anything, love. Nothing's swollen
much. I'll run a bath for you; you need to soak before you start to
stiffen up."



Flynn shook his head. "I'll be-"

"Fine, yes." Paul put both hands on his shoulders, guiding him very
gently to his feet. " Bath . Now. Dale, go and tell Jasper he's in
charge."



Dale watched Flynn being herded towards the stairs with a sense of
distress he didn't understand. Flynn was obviously not badly hurt;
Paul was walking with him, an arm around his waist that held a good
deal of affection and care that said he knew exactly how painful the
bruising was. But somehow, it was hard to watch.

















Jasper was still holding Leo while Clara worked outside,
and he looked up and smiled when Dale climbed the fence.



"How is he?"



"Paul said he's bruised, but nothing serious." Still feeling
distinctly unsettled, Dale dug his hands into his pockets, watching
Clara. "He said to tell you you're in charge."

Jasper nodded, still watching him.



"Thank you. Would you help Riley and Gerry get that tack cleaned and
put away?"



Riley and Gerry were working in the yard around the still grazing
mares, going through the heap of tack from seven horses, and Riley
glanced up as Dale joined them.



"Is Flynn ok?"



"Paul said it's just bruising." Dale picked up a saddle and the kit
and hung it over the fence to work on it, hands moving rapidly.
Riley cleared his throat after a minute, pausing to watch him.



"Dale…….? Jasper's watching."



I don't care.



Dale stopped, took a breath and made himself stop. Repetitive,
mechanical tasks were so temping to run at high speed. It was an
itching temptation, because the faster you had to do it the more you
had to concentrate and the less room there was to think about or be
aware of anything outside the pattern –



He swallowed on the thought, a little surprised. It was the first
time he had ever realised that he did this deliberately.



"Anyway, if you charge through and get this done," Gerry added
comfortably, "They'll only find us something else to do. The secret
is to take as long as possible."



The attitude behind that was so fundamentally – wrong – that Dale
woke up out of his reverie and stared at him. Riley glanced up,
caught Dale's eye and grimaced.



"Dale, ignore him. What's Paul doing with Flynn?"



"Wanted him to take a bath." Dale turned his attention back to the
saddle he was working on. "Flynn wasn't keen."

"Paul will win." Riley flipped the saddle soap over in his hand.
Gerry sat gingerly down on the grass with a grunt of discomfort.



"I was so glad to see it was his right arm he landed on."



There were no shortage of clients and colleagues that Dale had been
sent to work with who had been unpleasant – ranging from tedious to
flat out obnoxious. A professional had no difficulty recognising
their feelings and then setting them aside. Dale acknowledged the
silent I don't like you, and let it go.



"Riley!" Jasper called across the yard. "Get me one of the
inflatable splints?"



"Coming." Riley got up, heading towards the stables.



"So who found you straying then?" Gerry said cheerfully, dropping
the cloth and the bridle he was working on. "Jas? Flynn? You're
walking rather nicely to heel for someone new."

Body language was key. Dale had attended sufficient training and
classes to know very well how to both read and to use his own body
language deliberately. Open posture, relaxed, hands loose, non
committal expression….



Gerry grinned at him.



"You don't say much, do you?"



"When I have something to say." Dale said steadily. Gerry laughed.



"Ouch. Are you always this efficient? It's living with too many Tops
that does it you know. It has a terrible effect on Riley. If it
makes you work like a chipmunk on speed too, although given that
your name is Dale-"

"Excuse me." Dale interrupted, getting up with the cleaned saddle in
hand. He took it into the stable, past Jasper who was watching and
who smiled at him. Dale returned the smile, still mechanically
controlling his body language. In the tack room he hung up the
saddle and then folded his arms and rested his forehead on them.
Stomach churning, mouth dry, he had no idea why he felt so awful. Or
why his instincts were demanding that he got away, as far away as
possible. He'd never wanted to go for a run so badly in his life.



Flynn had a real problem with jogging. Or running.



And Flynn was in no state to deal with anyone having a nervous
breakdown for no good reason. There were no shortage of people to
look after Flynn, and who had far greater right to do so. Dale
pulled himself together and walked through the stables, past the
stable pasture door, to the door at the very end that led out of the
back of the building. The stables now stood between him and anyone
else's eyes – the house, Riley and Jasper or Gerry. Keeping the
building behind him, Dale climbed the fence into the home pastures
which stretched ahead of him for miles, and started walking.