Clint patted the sorrel‘s soft nose as he slipped the halter over it. Seven-year-old gelding with an easy disposition. Clint led Toby out of his stall and walked down toward the blue roan in the next stall over. This is Lady. She‘s got a lot of energy and a fiery nature, but under the right hand she gentles up nice. Which one you want? He turned to Tyler, smiling inwardly when Tyler chose Lady, as Clint had guessed he would. They led the horses out of the stalls and into the paddock, looping their lead ropes over fence posts. The sun wasn‘t quite up yet, but its approach was turning the night sky to gray, tinged with lavender. Clint brought their saddles from the tack room and Tyler took Lady‘s, expertly saddling her up while he murmured softly to her. Clint watched him a moment, admiring Tyler‘s easy way with the sometimes temperamental horse. He approached her with the natural confidence of a lifetime rider, but beyond that Clint sensed his immediate affinity with the animal.
