I tried to get up, but found myself still stuck because he hadn’t moved. He was still sitting on my hair. Maybe it was time to cut it? First thing when I got home. Home? Yes, that’s what it was with Mrs. Penn and the boys. But as to Frank sticking his nose into the whole nesting instinct bit, that I hadn’t decided.
“Please will you move, Frank?” I said, as sweetly as I could speak between gritted teeth.
“Success. Now was that so hard, my darling girl?”
“I burst up into a standing position, more than happy to be on my own feet again. I whistled for Frey, and he came running.
His mouth was dripping green slobber. Obviously, he’d found some healthy grass. I guess this interlude was fine with him.
I didn’t have a brush or curry comb to clean him up. I could see that he’d rolled in the dusty sand. Great. Just great.
I glanced about, looking for leaves or a stick that I could at least scrape his back with. Sand under me could rub both him and me raw. When I saw a usable stick, I ran and grabbed it, then started to work. Meanwhile, the officer, I mean, Frank, continued to sit watching me.
The end result of my stick cleaning didn’t much improve the looks of my stallion, but I was pretty sure that I’d gotten rid of anything large enough to cause irritation. Next, I had to search for a good place to mount. The fence surrounding the corral looked like the best place. I urged Frey over and boosted myself onto his back.
Frank had finally gotten up. I guess he figured the show was over since I was back up on my horse. He moseyed over to his gelding, checked the horse’s cinch, picked up the reins, then hoisted himself up. It was actually the first time I’d seen him on a horse. Any rider can tell right off if someone sits a horse correctly. Frank did. He looked like he was at home in the gelding’s saddle. I was impressed.