"Good," she said. "Good. You listen to your brother, Jordan. He's very wise."
I looked at Ian. Whenever he was contented, he had a way of bringing the corners of his mouth in just a little. It wasn't a smile on the outside, but it told me he was smiling on the inside. Sometimes. I thought my brother had two bodies, one everyone saw, and one only he saw and knew existed.
"Jordan, put on your jeans. You can't go horseback riding in a skirt," Mama said.
I had gone horseback riding a few times. Only once before had Ian and I one together and that was up here at the lake, too. When I recalled it. I realized Daddy hadn't been with us then either. Mama was a very good rider. She had a friend from high school who had a ranch and horses and they often rode on weekends before she married Daddy, she said. In fact, that was where she first met Daddy. When she told me that story, she sounded very happy.
"I knew who your father was, of course. I expected him to be more stuck up, but he was more a flirt than a snob. Snobs don't make good lovers, you low." she had told me, and laughed. That was only last year.
How different our world was now.
Going to the horseback riding ranch in the mountains was a good idea. It took our minds off the family crisis. It was a beautiful day with a nice breeze, so it wasn't too hot for the ride. Mama made sure both Ian and I put on some sunscreen. She gave me one of her hats to wear. Ian had a cowboy hat that had been left at the cabin.
Even though we had gone horseback riding before. Mama insisted we take another lesson. Ian was annoyed about that. The young girl instructing us had no idea what she was in for when she began.
They had mounting blocks for us to stand on. "You always mount on the left side," she began.
"You mean the near side," Ian corrected.
"Huh?" she said. The other children and adults in the lesson looked at Ian.
"It's called the near side. The right side is called the off side," he explained.
She just looked at him a moment and then returned to her memorized directions.
"Hold the reins tight so your horse doesn't wander while you're trying to mount it, but not too tight or it will start to back up. Keep the reins in your left hand and take hold of the pommel with the same hand. Then with your right hand, turn the stirrup clockwise so you can get your foot in it. Be careful not to kick the horse or it will think it should move. Place your right hand over the back of the saddle."
"The cantle," Ian said. Again, she paused and looked at him. "That's what the back of the saddle is called," he told her.
She forced a smile. "Thanks, but for now, let's just get everyone mounted."
"It helps to know what it all is," he said.
She was obviously warned to always be pleasant because she kept her plastic smile and nodded. "Straighten your left leg as you spring up and swing your right leg over like this she said, doing it. "Then turn the right stirrup clockwise for your foot and put the reins into your right hand. See?" she said, speaking quickly so that Ian couldn't interrupt with any corrections.
Everyone tried it. Some of the adults were very clumsy and had to be lifted up and over the saddle. Ian mounted perfectly and sat straight.
"Okay, everyone, be sure you're balanced on your saddle. Sit at the lowest point and make sure your heels are lined up with your hips. Just keep the ball of your foot in the stirrup firmly. Keep your lower arms bent like this so your arms are like extensions of the reins."
She trotted by each of us to be sure we were sitting correctly. She went past Ian quickly and instructed everyone else in how to hold the reins. She advised us all to try to keep straight and balanced as best we could. Many people were looking at Ian, who sat perfectly. It was as if they thought they should watch and listen to him more than the instructor.
"We'll start with the walk," she said from the front of our line. Ian was right behind me. "Move your arms with the horse's head so you keep your hold on it firm."
We went around in a circle and she gave each person some more instructions. Ian was obviously riding perfectly, as was Mama, who was behind him.
After that, she instructed us on how to turn our horses and then slow them down and stop them. For our first ride, she said she would avoid trotting. This was the beginner's ride, after all. Ian was immediately upset about that.
"If you feel you can go faster, go on," she told him. She made it sound like a challenge.
Mama stayed alongside me all the while. Ian did break out of the line and was so good at controlling his horse, the instructor finally pulled alongside him and complimented him. When she heard how little he had really ridden, she was even more impressed.
It was a beautiful ride and very scenic. It took us nearly an hour and a half and I was sort when we finally stopped and were instructed in the proper way to dismount. My scratch was hurting again as well, but I didn't utter a single complaint because the whole time. Mama seemed happy. What was happening between her and Daddy was forgotten.
Ian was right
about horseback riding. I thought. We were disabled emotionally and it had, for the time being, stopped the bleeding of our tears inside or out.
But reality was waiting for us when we returned to the cabin. It took the form of Grandmother Emma.