Horse Ears.

Chapter Four.

The pipes took us two hours to move. Yes… two hours to move a set of heavy, metal pipes.

The pipes are scattered throughout my aunt’s three hundred acres of land. It provides an amazing irrigation system to keep the fields fresh and green for the cattle and horses in the pastures. In all honesty, getting up at four and being able to take a quick break while riding to the next pasture to watch the sun rise was worth getting only three hours of sleep.

I was riding Cici, a flea-bitten mutt of a horse. Aunt Jeanette truly did not know her bloodlines. I suspected some Appaloosa, maybe some thoroughbred or quarter horse, too. She was small, my feet hanging off her barrel instead of on it. The little girl was a morning horse, though. She whinnied when Jessica, Zachary and I were in sight and grew even happier when I took her out and started to tack her up.

Unfortunately, Cici hated cows. That means, to move the cows and check on the other horses, I had to run Cici back to the barns, untack her, put her back in her stall, grab another horse, tack that horse, and ride out to find the cows.

“It’s too fucking early,” I mumbled, giving Cici a sugar cube as I took her halter off. She immediately went to the corner to drink.

“You’ve said that nearly a thousand times,” Zachary muttered back. Exhaustion was coating his voice; he was just as tired as I was.

“Well, get used to it, buddy,” I snapped back at him. “Who are you taking?”

Zachary shrugged, coming out of the stall next to Cici’s and latching the door securely. I followed suit, making sure the gate was closed and properly secured.

I raised an eyebrow at him, “I call Frog, then.”

Jessica looked between Zachary and me. “Frog?” I nodded. She shrugged. “Okay.”

“Why Frog?” Zachary questioned me.

My temper flared. It was almost six-thirty in the morning and I wasn’t putting up with any shit at the moment. I was tired as hell from talking to Vince and going to pick the flower, plus I didn’t sleep well.

“Why the hell not Frog?”

Zachary watched me carefully, his mouth shut. I stalked off, satisfied with his lack of speech. I quickly sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. I wouldn’t dare touch a horse while feeling so riled up and angry.

I pulled Frog from his stall, hearing an unhappy neigh coming out of his mouth. I smiled, daisy chaining him to the tie poles. I scratched right under his forelock lovingly and he tried to rub his face on me. I pushed him away, laughing quietly.

I thought about Zachary and what he had said and rolled my eyes. He thought I wasn’t going to be able to handle Froggy while out moving the cows. Frog was an easily spooked chestnut thoroughbred. He had a white star on his forehead, right between his big, brown eyes. My aunt called him paranoid but I called him super vigilant or hyperaware of his surroundings. I ran my hand down his long snout, putting my hand over his soft, gray muzzle.

I felt his nostrils flare, sending a gush of warm air into my hand. His lips moved slightly, feeling what was on them. I smiled and put a kiss on his cheek before grabbing a curry comb and dandy brush. I cleaned out his hoofs quickly and threw the saddle and blanket on him. He objected, throwing his head in the air and stepping back, but I tightened the girth anyways, giving him a glare. I knotted the lead rope around his neck and slipped his bridle on over his ears so it would stay. I put my shoulder next to his head, using my right hand to open his mouth. I slipped my fingers into his lips where his mouth was vacant of teeth and gave him a command.