“Both,” he said.
Gus and Seamus had set the rails at one meter. Six of them scattered around the ring. Like bunny jumps. On the third one, Mom pulled up Coronado, and we watched her circle him. Just Mom and Gus and the horse in the ring. A nothing height to clear. And they still circled.
“It’s been like this near all morning,” Seamus said.
“Any theories about why?” I said.
“It’s like everything caught up with your mum,” he said. “Perfect storm. The accident and the injuries and probably coming back too soon. Then Saturday night capped things off. And then she was like an empty sack trying to stand.”
Mom put the horse in motion again. Pulled up on the fourth jump this time. Coronado just flat refusing. Circled again. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Didn’t know if I could handle seeing much more.
“She has no confidence,” I said.
“Not to be contrary or nuthin’，” Seamus said, “but I’m pretty certain people with no confidence at all have a wee bit more than her right now.”
She didn’t get down off her horse and walk out of the ring, I had to give her that. Wasn’t quitting, at least for now.
Then Gus and Mom and Coronado began to move slowly along the fence line, Gus in his chair, Mom sometimes having to pick up the pace to keep up. Gus seemed to be doing most of the talking. For once, he wasn’t using his bullhorn voice, so I couldn’t hear their exchange.
But it all looked extremely animated.
They made two trips around the ring that way before Mom hopped out of her saddle and started to walk Coronado in the direction of the barn.
I got ready to make my getaway.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Gus snapped at her. “We’re not done here.”
Mom stopped and turned to face him.
“I might be done in more ways than one,” she said.
They were close enough to the barn that now I could hear them both quite clearly. But I would have been able to hear Gus Bennett where I’d parked my car.
“I’ll never stop working with you because you’re riding for shit,” he said. “But I am the last person in this business that you want to feel sorry for yourself in front of. I thought that went without saying.”
I could see her face, saw that the words had stung her. But she didn’t answer.
“Now are you ready to get back to work?” he said.
“I’ll call Seamus to help me back up,” she said.
“We don’t need Seamus,” Gus said, and moved the chair closer to her and Coronado, extended his arms, and put his hands together.
Now his voice was very loud.
“Here,” he said. “Let me give you a leg.”
SIXTY-SEVEN
Daniel
THE TWO MEN SAT at the last table past the bar at the Trophy Room, each with a beer in front of him. The dimly lit restaurant was nearly empty at a little after six o’clock.
“Did somebody drive you?” Daniel said to Gus.
“I drive myself,” Gus said. “I call it the van of the future. We can drag race later, if you want.”
“Sorry,” Daniel said.
“Don’t be, not with me, anyway,” Gus said. “I’ve had no use for sorry since I zigged when I should have zagged.”
Zigged instead of zagged, Daniel thought. Like he’d given himself a bad line.
Gus had called Daniel for a talk without Maggie present, or Becky. Maggie mostly.
“About what, exactly?” Daniel had said.
“The women in our life,” Gus had said. “What the hell else would we be talking about?”
They knew each other, not well, from the shows. As many times as they’d had horses in the same ring, Daniel would never have presumed to call them friends. Gus did limited traveling on the summer circuit, preferring to stay close to home. On a trip to Michigan, he observed to Daniel that flying was a royal pain in his ass, when he was still feeling pain in his ass.
But they had never spent time alone until now. And Daniel could not help feeling a tiny bit of hero worship. Maybe more than that. He had only heard what kind of rider Gus had been, had seen old footage of him before he’d been paralyzed. Everyone in their world, though, knew what kind of trainer he was now. The feeling was that Gus Bennett could have more riders than he did if he wanted them. But he only chose the riders he wanted.
In his second career, Daniel thought, he was still leyendo.
A legend.
“So how is it going with Maggie, really?” Daniel said.
“Really what I wanted to talk to you about,” Gus said. “Her, not Becky. Because it’s not going. If it is, it’s going right over a cliff.”