Rescued By Razzbowski (Razzbowski X O.C. Reader)

First Day Of Training: Problem Horse Part 2

It was the next day. Chelle and I had landed last night around 8:30 and found our hotel after much struggling. Now, we were on our way to Mrs. Johnson's barn to see how we can help Cracker Jack.

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"Hello Koda! I'm so glad you could make it!" The British woman welcomed us with great enthusiasm. "I know you don't travel out of the country to do training sessions much, but I can't find anyone else who will work with Jack." 

"Mrs. Johnson, I assure you it's no problem. If you need help it's better to do it-" I started.

"The Southern Way." Chelle and I both said in unison.

Mrs. Johnson laughed and led us into the barn. It was clear to see which horse was Cracker Jack by the way there were multiple people crowded outside his stall.

"Koda. Rochelle. This is Hunter and Raven, two of our apprentices. And this is my husband, Ken." I shook hands with the three people and my attention was guided to the dapple Quarter horse in front of me. His eyes were wide and you could see the white sides all around them. 

Hunter handed me a lead rope and I went into his stall. The silver horse watched me the whole time, eyeing my every move. I stopped right inside the door, turning my body to face the back wall instead of him directly. I stuck my hand out and watched him flinch from the corner of my eye; A normal reaction for a horse, but not to the extreme of throwing his head high into the air. I turned my head to my right, facing away from him.

"Any reason he flinches like this?" I asked while my hand remained extended toward Jack, who had taken a few steps closer to me.

"He came from a bad home life." Raven said. "Those scars are from physical abuse."

"Got it." I said. If I was gonna help this horse, I had to be patient. 

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***5 minutes later***

I was finally able to clip the rope to Cracker Jack's halter. Following behind Mrs. Johnson, I led him to the round pen outside, unclipped the rope, and began my work: 

Lope circle left, Lope circle right. Stop for air.

When he got to stop depended on how well he behaved- if he didn't kick out, pin his ears, bare his teeth, or rear up, Jack was rewarded with a break and a peppermint. We started again:

Lope circle left, Lope circle right- buck. Apply pressure where he misbehaves. He kicked at me right at the gate of the pen, so I crack the whip only when he passes the gate and let him "relax" the rest of the way. Lope circle left, Lope circle right. Stop for air.

We continue this for about 20 more minutes. By now, I have gathered a larger crowd around the pen. I stopped in the middle of the pen, dropped the whip, and held my hand out. I positioned it to stay "on his drive line" or his shoulder. That would get his attention fully on me.

 When I saw one ear turn toward me, I took a step forward and he turned his head to face me. Jack was still running around the pen, what do I do? I nearly cross into his path. I watch as Mrs. Johnson holds her breath. Apparently, I'm the first one to move in front of this horse's path of travel.

I turn my body fully to face Cracker Jack, who was slowing his lope to a trot. I hold my hand up to grab his attention once more, backing quickly to move with his pace. He realized I wasn't going to move out of his way and slowed to a walk, then halted.

"Release pressure there." I said, the crowd listening to my every word. "And walk away." I turned my back to the horse and took a few steps away from him before turning to face the majority of the crowd. "When you finish round-penning a horse, always end on a calm note. Call me insane, but..." I said. I started walking toward the horse. I felt the calmness radiating from him while the barn workers held their breath again. They were expecting Cracker Jack to do something like rear up or kick me-

"...I'd say he's a pretty good boy." I say, rubbing the horse on the head before putting my arm over his lowered neck. His eyes were now showing little whiteness and his ears were in "airplane mode". They were just flopped out to either side. The crowd cheered as Rochelle yelled "Aannnnnnddddd Cut!" I laughed as the silver colt snorted in response to the clapping of the audience around us. There I was, standing with my arm around a horse that none of his barn mates could work with. 

This shouldn't take long. I thought to myself.

"He's certainly is beautiful, I'll tell you that." Chelle said. 

"Sometimes the most beautiful horses are the craziest." Ken stated.

"-And he is just that." A Scottish-sounding voice spoke from behind me. I turned to see a tall man who looked around early 30s. His black hair had a few dirty blonde streaks and was swiped to one side. He almost looked like Razzbowski. But he couldn't be- Could he?

That's where I was wrong....