" You like?”
“I--um, yes, he’s wonderful. His left ear isn’t notched like so many of the others. Why is that?”
“The notched ear says a horse is gentled. He is not. If another puts hands upon him, he fights the big fight.”
“Then how can I ride him?”
“You will be his good friend. Come close.”
Loretta stepped back instead. “But he’s wild.”
Tightening his hold on her hand, Hunter tugged her forward. “He is friend to me and no other, eh? He carries me because he wishes it. Now, he will carry you.”
With that explanation, which fell far short of reassuring her, he reclaimed the line and lifted her onto the stallion’s back.
Loretta looked down. “I-I’m not too sure this is a good idea.”
“It is good. You will trust, eh? I have said words to him. He accepts. Lie forward along his neck and whisper your heart into his ear. Run your hands over him. Tighten your legs around him.”
Heart in her throat, Loretta did as he told her. She whispered, “Please, horse, don’t get mad and kill me.” The stallion nickered and sniffed her bare foot, the whites of his eyes rolling. Hunter chuckled. “He smells your fear and asks if there is danger, eh? He should run like the wind? He should stand? He is sure enough nuhr-vus, like the little blue-eyes is nuhr-vus when she thinks I will eat her and pick my teeth with her bones. You will say to him as I say to you--it is well.”
Loretta jerked her foot back, afraid the horse might bite. “He m-may not understand. He’s a Comanche horse, isn’t he?”
“Toquet, it is well. Whisper your heart. The words are in your touch. Be easy and make him easy.”
She ran her hands over the stallion’s sleek coat, her fingers splaying on the powerful muscles in his neck and shoulders. When she began to believe the horse wouldn’t rear, she relaxed. The stallion lowered his head and began to graze. Hunter handed Loretta his line.
“Let him carry you, eh? Whisper to him. Teach him your hands bring no pain--only good things. He will find sweet grass and listen.”
“He’s so beautiful, Hunter.”
“Say this to him.”
Loretta did. The stallion flickered his ears and nickered. While he grazed, she petted him. Just when she began to feel confident, Hunter lifted her off his back. When he took the stallion’s line from her, he captured her hand as well, his long fingers curling warmly around hers.
“He is now your good friend.” He looped his free arm over the stallion’s shoulders. “If you share breath with him often, you can paint yourself and wear leaves on your head, and he will still know you. For always. "
― Catherine Anderson , Comanche Moon (Comanche, #1)