The small pen was a round arena about a quarter of the size of the big arena they’d walked by. The fence was made from plywood sheets that were scarred and battered—though still solid. Kage ushered them inside; before he closed the gate, a tiny woman who was rawhide and leather led a smallish bay mare, already saddled with a western, silver-bedecked saddle, into the ring.
“This is Honey Bay Bee,” Kage said. “She’s twelve. We showed her halter at the regional level when she was a yearling and then hunt seat for a year as a futurity horse. She is no longer breeding sound, so we’ve put another year of riding on her and are selling her as an amateur prospect.”
Anna tried to look like she knew what he was talking about, but he lost her at “regional” and “hunt seat.”
“Go ahead and ask,” said Charles.
“Hunt seat?”
“English saddle,” said Kage. “But horses trot long instead of high like they do in the English classes. You’ll see what I mean.”
Teri hopped up gracefully and walked, trotted, and cantered the mare around the pen. Teri had a big smile on her face; the horse looked vaguely annoyed.
She felt annoyed, too, when Anna mounted much less gracefully. She walked, trotted, and cantered for Anna with as much enthusiasm as a kid doing homework. Her ears weren’t pinned, but they weren’t up and eager, either. Bored, bored, bored, they said.
At least she didn’t shy at anything.
Charles shook his head before Anna got off.
“She gives me a baseline,” Kage said. “But no.”
Anna rode four horses that night. By the third horse, she lost most of her shyness about riding in front of virtual strangers who knew a lot more than she did. Which was good, because the fourth horse they brought for her was a tiny gelding who was “English pleasure but not quite a park horse,” whatever that meant. Mateo rode him for them first. Anna saw immediately what Kage had been saying when he’d told her English was up instead of out. The tiny powerhouse snapped up his knees and hocks with enthusiastic energy.
“Could I ride him in a western saddle?” she asked.
“English saddles suck if you are riding in the mountains.” Kage grinned. “Of course you can. Heylight won’t care. He’s all about getting down the road and having fun.”
Evidently they weren’t going to get the western saddle now, though, which was kind of what Anna had been asking. Anna eyed the itty-bitty scrap of leather that was missing the horn for her to grab on to.
“Don’t worry about it,” Charles said as he adjusted her stirrups. “Western or English style, it doesn’t matter. Ride balanced. The seat support is still there. Your rump will know it even if your eyes tell you differently.
“The turn signals for English are like steering a bicycle: turn by pulling his nose a little in the direction you want to go and give him a little more rein with the other hand so you aren’t just pulling back.” He demonstrated with his own hands, moving them together. “You’ll still steer mostly with your body and legs—just like at home.”
“If I screw up on the steering,” she told him, “we’ll just go round and round in circles, anyway.”
He gave her a quick grin and stepped back. She asked the gelding to move off.
The little gelding had stood perfectly still when she got on, but the minute her calves put pressure on his sides, he powered off at a trot instead of the walk she was expecting. It wasn’t the gentle slow trot her usual mount had, either. She bounced around like a rubber ball until she found her seat a little farther back than she was used to. After a few more minutes she settled in and felt a big grin cross her face. He was probably going slower, as far as distance traveled, than the first mare had been with her long striding gait, but it felt like they were flying. The gelding was like a high-performance sports car. The faster he went, the more responsive he got. The best thing about him was that although speed was always available, so were slow and stop.
Reluctantly she slowed him and brought him to the middle of the arena, where Charles, Kage, and Mateo watched.
“Usually we post that trot,” commented Kage with a grin when she stopped. “Not many people would try to sit it.”
“Is that bad?” she asked.
“Heylight’s ears are up, so you weren’t hitting him in the back—but it’s a lot of work to sit a big trot like that.”
She wasn’t sure he’d answered her question until she glanced at Charles, who gave her a nod—it was a compliment.
Charles walked all the way around the horse and then asked, “Does he even make fourteen hands?”
“Wasn’t it you who was just complaining because we’re breeding Arabs bigger and bigger?” asked Kage. “Yes, she could take him in a pony class. Still, she doesn’t look too big for him. I wouldn’t have brought him out for you. He could carry you, but it would sure look funny. We’d have to put wheels on your stirrups or they’d drag in the dust. How big is he, Mateo, do you know?”
Mateo shrugged. “I’ve put a measuring stick on all the horses. I can get his real height from the office if you want me to. But it’s easier to categorize horses as small, medium, and big. Most people can’t tell the difference between fifteen hands and fifteen two anyway, so why confuse the issue? This horse is size small with a size big heart.”
Anna patted the horse and laughed when he leaned into her hand.
Kage put his hand on the horse’s forehead and rubbed lightly. “I kept waiting for this horse to grow. It shouldn’t be about size, but this guy really just isn’t tall enough to compete in the big ring. He also has the problem that in an English class his gaits are sometimes too big and he gets penalized. In a park class his gaits usually aren’t big enough and he gets penalized. We could maybe fix that if we grew his feet out to the maximum and stuck the heaviest shoes that are legal for the show ring on him. But his right front foot is soft and the big shoes don’t stay on it. So we’re selling him as a junior-to-ride horse: English pleasure. He’s not nationals quality, for the reasons I told you, but he could take a regional championship with a good round and a judge who didn’t care about size. That’s why his price is as high as it is.”
“Have you ridden him outside a ring?” asked Charles.
Kage nodded. “Well, not me. Hosteen took him out on one of his weeklong treks into the desert last fall. Said he did fine after the first couple of days. It was just the once, but he also has two years of showing, too. That will sack out a horse but good.”