Page 41 of The Only Seconds that Matter
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Victor’s usual farrier had been involved in a car wreck, which meant that he was out of commission for the next three months.Victor had to scramble to find a replacement, so the new farrier showed up early Thursday morning with her supply trailer in tow.
She was a stocky woman with an olive complexion, various tattoos displayed by a sleeveless T-shirt, and a buzzcut.Victor heard her swear in Spanish when she dropped her clippers, so he decided to greet her with a firm handshake and anhola ¿cómo estás?Her formerly stern expression melted away into a friendly smile.
“Bien.¿Y tú?”she asked.
“Glad that you’re here, since we’re already a week behind after my last farrier had an accident,” Victor replied in Spanish.“I’m Victor.You must be Ramona.”
“That’s me.I’m glad I could pencil you in.My schedule’s been crazy.”She bent down to pet Piper and Bailey, who swarmed around her legs.Once the dogs were greeted to their liking, they headed into the barn, where Jade was waiting with their first victim Sprout, the pony gelding that he’d bought at the auction along with Midnight.Jade had put in most of the training work with this pony, and while he showed promise in being a lesson pony, he was still a little shit about his feet, so they decided to get him over with first while Ramona still had the energy to deal with it.
After Sprout was finished, Victor told Jade she could go back to her training work.This meant the conversation could continue in Spanish, or what little conversation was possible while Ramona was bent over the hoof of a horse or pounding a horseshoe into shape.She had a way about her that had Victor wondering, especially considering the buzz cut and the fit of her clothes.He didn’t want to resort to stereotypes, but she also reminded him a lot of the butch lesbians he’d hung out around back when he lived in Los Angeles for a few years, and she’d been the first person he’d met in a while who he could peg as feasibly queer.
As she worked, he rolled his tongue against his cheek and wondered how he could ask in a way that wasn’t too forward or presumptuous.He did his best to be as stealth as possible—not because he wasn’t proud of who he was but because he was terrified of being hate crimed.So he didn’t want to come across as some cishet bigot trying to sniff her out.Maybe he could out himself first—but then what if she wasn’t gay?He’d met a few women who looked queer who then later proved to be raging homophobes.He was so paranoid all the time living in these parts, and he was sure she probably felt the same way.
Then, after she’d just finished shoeing Saturn, she lifted her shirt to rub away some of the sweat on her face, and Victor saw a small tattoo by her left hip that readDyke Pride, surrounded by flowers.He almost laughed in relief.God, it had been too long since he’d been around a proper butch.As much as he never wanted to return to the city life in Los Angeles, he did miss the several lesbians there who had taken him under their wing when he felt excluded by cis gay men.They taught him a lot about himself and about gender—but also about how to change his own spark plugs.
“So, uh,” Victor began, nervously.“You from around here?”
“Oh yeah.I live on a farm my grandfather pretty much built from scratch,” she replied.
“You have your own horses?”
“I’ve got seven.Most of them are rescues, so only two are rideable.Works for me though.I trail ride occasionally, but I’m too busy to do much else.”
Victor wasn’t sure how to introduce himself as a fellow gay without coming across like a weirdo.There needed to be a better script for this sort of thing.He also had to acknowledge that she was just a woman doing her job.She wasn’t here to become his next best friend or anything.
“So you do horse rescue?”Victor asked, trying to keep the conversation going.
“Hmm, it’s more of my wife’s thing,” she replied, then paused as if coming to the realization that she maybe shouldn’t have said that.Victor jumped in before she could doubt herself.
“Must be great to do horse rescue with a wife who knows how to shoe and trim horses.Unless you make her pay you?”
Ramona chuckled.“She pays me by doing the dishes.”
Victor nodded.“Makes sense.”
Ramona put the horse’s foot down and straightened with a wince.Then she gave Victor a somewhat long and assessing look.“You married?”
“Ah, no.Though if you know any male farriers who are looking…”
Ramona laughed harder now.“You from here?”
“No, I’m from California.When my aunt died, she willed me this place.”
“It’s a beautiful farm.I can see why you made the move.”
“Yeah, I love the property.Not exactly the best state to live in right now though.”
Ramona sighed, seeming to understand his meaning.“The only way I’ll be moved off my family’s property is by force.You got any guns?”
Victor stared at her wide-eyed a moment.He’d thought she’d say something likeit’s not that badonce people get used to it, but apparently her trust in the general public was even lower than his.“Uh, no.”
“You should probably get a few.Not saying you’ll ever need to use them, but I find people take me more seriously when I carry.”
“Not really a gun guy.”
“A rare species of man in these parts.”
