It Broke the Fall

Before I get into the rest of my blog for this month, I have a wonderful announcement! The Amazon listings for "The Aquamarine Necklace" are back up and working after a few months of being in limbo. Yahoo!

I’ve spent the last few months editing and revising a couple of manuscripts. One was “What Love Made Us Do”, which will be out on shelves in September, 2026. The other two are women’s fiction (leaning towards historical romance) that I will be self publishing sometime between now and Christmas.

But weeks of editing has sapped my creative energy! As in the past, I have turned to developing some short fiction to cleanse my soul of Oxford comma corrections, finding misplaced modifiers, repairing split infinitives and fixing too much tell, not show.

Most of my short stories fall outside my normal genre of police procedural murder mysteries and historical romance. The one I’m dropping into this month’s blog ventures someplace I rarely go – humour.

I hope you enjoy it.

IT BROKE THE FALL

One long ear swivelled to keep an eye on me. Otherwise, old Clem stood still as a fencepost.

Dad called over from his favourite bench by the barn door. “Keep yer teeth together.”

Why would he say that? Didn't he just say at breakfast that Clem was over his bucking days? I distinctly remember he said that Clem had seen the error of his ways.

A few months ago, we’d bought a couple of mules from an outfitter who was going out of business. One was Clem. The other was almost identical except for a tiny white spot on the back of his right ear.

Clem and Pickens were gentle creatures, bomb proof when carrying a pack, the outfitter said, but they’d never been broke to ride. Shouldn’t be a problem, though, he promised. They were easy to handle, and like most mules, smart as a whip.

Well, the first time we put a saddle on Clem, he took exception to that promise. The saddle brought out the worst in him and he invented a whole new style of bucking, until like Dad said, he finally settled down. He turned into a fine riding mule.

So, this morning, after mucking out fourteen horse stalls and scraping the manure into a pile in the corner of the pasture, I figured I’d go for a ride and check the new heifers down the valley.

The ride would do Clem good, I thought, so I saddled him up in the barn, where it was cool and dark, out of the bright morning sun. His big ears twitched when I snugged up the cinch, and I thought maybe the flies were bothering him.

He followed me fine out of the barn and it took awhile for my eyes to get used to the sun beating down on us. I was still squinting when I put my foot in the stirrup. Just as I swung my leg over his back, grey matter in my noggin registered that his right ear had a spot of white on it that wasn’t there yesterday. At the same time my ass connected with the saddle, Clem, who wasn’t really Clem, but Pickins, the  mule that wasn’t broke to ride, ducked his head between his knees and exploded.

I hadn’t clenched my teeth like Dad had told me to, so on the first jump, my jaws clashed together so hard I figured I’d be seeing my dentist real soon.

Pickens must have taken bucking lessons from Clem because he was good. Not just crow hopping, but tucking his head down between his front legs, launching straight up, then snapping back with a hard right turn. He corkscrewed a couple of times, then settled into a run no mule should be able to do. In my experience, they’re just not that fast.

He had the bit in his teeth; I’d lost one rein and one stirrup. This wasn’t going to end well ‘cause, if I’m honest, I’m not that good a rider. I have no problem admitting that I grabbed hold of the horn and held on for dear life.

Then he stopped. No fancy sliding stop. Just planted his feet, and I swear, put his head down to make sure nothing was in the way when I sailed by.

Maybe Pickens was making a point that he didn’t appreciate getting turned into a saddle horse. He made his point loud and clear, but in his heart, he was a good mule; they always take care of their person. Where did he plant his feet? Right in front of the still steaming, soft pile of manure and straw that came out of the stalls.

When I finally cleaned off my face enough to look up and not see stars, he had his nose almost touching mine, as if to say, Well, at least it broke the fall.

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Thanks for reading my blog! All of a sudden, summer's here. Whatever your plans are for holidays, wear your sunscreen, drink plenty of fluids, and ENJOY.