Western Pleasure
By Terry O’Reilly
Published by JMS Books LLC at Smashwords
Visit jms-books.com for more information.
Copyright 2012 Terry O’Reilly
ISBN 9781611522556
For more titles by Terry O’Reilly at Smashwords visit https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/terryoreilly
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Cover Photo Credit: keeweeboy
Used under a Standard Royalty-Free License.
Cover Design: J.M. Snyder
All Rights Reserved
WARNING: This book is not transferable. It is for your own personal use. If it is sold, shared, or given away, it is an infringement of the copyright of this work and violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.
No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.
This book is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Published in the United States of America.
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Western Pleasure
By Terry O’Reilly
“The economy sucks, man.”
Tyler Steele nodded his agreement at his best friend Barney’s assessment. Barney had lost his job at the local car dealership. He had been in charge of truck and trailer sales.
“Tell me about it,” chimed in Zeb, another of Tyler’s friends and owner of Zeb’s Westside Saddlery. “Business is down over ten percent. No one’s buyin’ horses and those that have ’em can’t afford to buy tack any more.”
Tyler sighed as he sipped his beer. His business too was slow. He was a horse trainer and in the past two years his twenty stall barn had gone from full to fifty per cent occupancy.
“Yep,” he drawled. “No one wants horses trained right now and the ones I got trained are cuttin’ back on showin’. Don’t know what I’m gonna do.”
The three men sat commiserating one Friday night at the Stampede, a local country western bar. The live band played “Good Time” and several folks were out on the floor line dancing to the song. The men at Tyler’s table agreed the song wasn’t reflecting their current mood. Not one of them had the slightest inclination to get up and join the dance. That suited Ty just fine as he usually refused any invitation to join the line dance.
“Well, Ty,” Zeb offered, “you could give lessons. Ever thought about that?”
“Yeah, I thought about it. I ain’t taught beginners fer God knows how long. I don’t know if I’d have patience with little kids and their parents anymore. I have enough trouble with the riders I got showin’. If they don’t win it’s all my fault. If they do, well it’s all on them and I had nothin’ to do with it.” He took another swig of his beer.
“Still,” Zeb pressed on, “a man’s gotta do what he’s gotta do.”
“Yeah, Ty,” Barney added. “At least you got a skill you can use. I don’t know nothing’ but how to sell trucks and trailers, and that ain’t happening right now.”
Tyler sighed again. Maybe Zeb and Barney were right. Maybe he should look into giving lessons again.
Zeb seemed to sense Tyler was thinking about it. “Go on, put an ad up and see what happens. You could put it on Craigslist. Who knows, you might make out like a bandit. Folks might take some lessons and then want to buy a horse and then they’d need tack and you could send ’em ta me.” He took a drink of his beer and winked at the cowboy.
“Then they’d need a truck and trailer to haul to shows and I might get called back to work!” Barney added.
All three laughed.
“Well, that maybe’d work,” Tyler said thoughtfully. “Where do I get a hold of this Craig fella ta get on his list?”
“God, Tyler! What century are ya livin’ in? Craigslist is like the old classified ads in the papers. It’s on the Internet,” Barney said.
Tyler kinda shrugged and looked away, feeling embarrassed.
“Wait a minute. You still ain’t bought a computer, have ya?” Zeb said with a laugh.
Barney joined in. “Come on, Tyler. We told you a year ago that you needed a computer if you were gonna do business these days.”
“Don’t need one,” Tyler said defensively. He didn’t want to admit he’d tried looking into the modern technology but had decided it was too complicated for him. “I do just fine as it is.”
“Yeah, well, wasn’t it you that was just sayin’ your business was off and ya didn’t know what you was gonna do? Or was that some other fella wearin’ a western shirt and a Stetson occupyin’ yer body?”
“I don’t have a computer. Don’t see how that’d change things anyway! There! You satisfied?” Tyler asked with finality.
“Do you at least have a cell phone? Barney asked sarcastically. “Then if you do place an ad they can at least call ya. Or would you rather they used smoke signals?” He laughed again.
“Shut your face. I got me a cell,” Tyler said sullenly.
Barney kept chuckling.
“Could use the computer at the library. They’d be happy to help ya,” Zeb told Tyler as he signaled the waitress for another pitcher of beer for the men. “Or come over to the store. I’ll let you use mine.”
Tyler thought about this. He knew it was his pride talking when he refused Zeb’s offer to help. He knew he wouldn’t go to the library either. It would be too hard to admit he didn’t know the first thing about computing. But he did realize he had to do something to bring in a little more money. He’d think about it over the weekend. The pitcher arrived and the conversation turned to other topics.
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By Monday Tyler had made up his mind he’d give lessons a try; but he’d decided he would place an ad the old fashioned way: in the newspaper. So after feeding the horses and turning them out he drove his F250 into town, heading for the business office of The Sentinel.
“Can I help you?” a pretty young woman asked as he walked up to the counter.
“Yes ma’am. I’d like to put an ad in the paper,” Tyler replied.
“Sure thing.” The woman smiled, reached under the counter and brought out several sheets of paper. “Here are our rates. As you can see the longer the ad runs the cheaper it is overall.”
Tyler looked over the rate sheet. He decided the long-term ad would make more sense.
“This form is for what you want to say. You pay by the word as well as the run time of the ad. If you have any questions, just let me know.”
She smiled again. Tyler thanked her and she went back to her desk.
He stood looking at the form. He hadn’t thought ahead of what he would say; but to save a few bucks he’d keep it short and sweet. He decided to add a little line at the end to make it more interesting and to show Barney and Zeb he wasn’t all that out of it. After writing the ad he came to the section where the advertiser chose a category.
Jobs wanted. No that’s not right. I got me a job.
Help wanted. I ain’t lookin’ to hire nobody.
For sale. Ain’t sellin’ nothin’. Well, sort of I am.
Items Wanted. Don’t want nothin’ ‘cept students.
Services. That might be good. But this could be fer things like house cleanin’ and caterin’ and baby sittin’. Naw, don’t think so.
Personals?
Dang, I don’t know which one to check.
Tyler looked up. He was going to ask the young woman which category riding lessons would fit in, but she was busy on the phone and was sitting with her back to him. He sighed and looked at his watch. He’d best be getting back to the barn. He had some work to do with a couple horses, and he wanted to get it done before it got too hot.