Free The Georges and the Jewels by Jane Smiley

he leapt and twisted like a rodeo horse, at least seven or eight big bucks and kicks, with his head between his knees. When I jerked his head out from between his knees and pulled it around, he got it back down there and kept going. I had to hold the horn of my saddle and sit back, but even then he almost got me off. He hadn’t had me off in over a month. Finally, Uncle Luke managed to get to us. Ornery George was almost finished, anyway—I could feel it in his body. Uncle Luke grabbed the reins just below the bit, and he said,
“What
the hell do you think you’re doing, Mr. Horse?” He gave Ornery George a jerk, and the horse’s head shot into the air and he started to back up. Uncle Luke gave him another jerk, and he stopped. His eyes were big and his ears were forward. Uncle Luke said, “Someone doesn’t know who the boss is.”
    “That’s true. I—”
    “Honey, it’s not your job to tell him who the boss is. Your daddy should have made that clear to him months ago.”
    “He said that wouldn’t work.”
    “Oh, sure it will—”
    Just then, Daddy came around the barn and shouted, “Vet’s here! Need some help!”
    Uncle Luke said, “You walk him out now, and he and I will come to a little understanding tomorrow or the next day when your dad’s away for a bit. You got school tomorrow?”
    I said, “Yeah, of course.”
    “Well, we’ll have a little school after school.”

Chapter 7
    O N T UESDAY , WE COULDN’T RIDE BECAUSE OF THE POURING RAIN , and on Wednesday, both Mom and Daddy were gone to the chapel to set up chairs for the evening service, which every family had to do in turn—it was our time about once every eight or nine weeks, though if one of the old ladies had to do it, Mom would go and help.
    It was therefore a perfect day for Uncle Luke to take Ornery George in hand, as he said. I rode Jewel Number 1 and gave the foal some milk as soon as I got home, and then Uncle Luke helped me with Ornery George. We had a lot more horses to ride now, but the plan was to let them get settled until Friday and begin them Saturday. Uncle Luke was to stay through the weekend and help with that, then go back to Oklahoma. That was why he had brought his own saddle.
    It took us about ten minutes to get Ornery George brushed and tacked. Uncle Luke led him into the arena, stood him up, and stepped up on him. Ornery George flicked his ears. He knew perfectly well that he had a different rider, and I knew perfectly well that he would put Uncle Luke to the test sooner or later.
    They got on fine for about fifteen minutes. Uncle Luke made George walk up briskly and trot in both directions. It wasn’t until the first lope, to the right, that George gave any trouble—I saw him do it. When Uncle Luke asked for the lope, George flicked his ears backward and humped his back. Uncle Luke smacked him with the end of the reins and said, “Get on, now.” George didn’t respond. This time, Uncle Luke both flicked the reins and spurred him. George pinned his ears, stuck his head down, and bucked. Uncle Luke spurred and smacked him again. George bucked some more. At that point, Uncle Luke did something I’d heard about but never seen—he vaulted out of the saddle, landed on his feet, bent his knees, and set his heels, pulling the horse around with one rein. He made the horse go around a couple of times, and then George stopped moving. But he looked happy. He looked like he thought Uncle Luke had come off because he’d bucked him off.
    Uncle Luke walked the horse over to me and handed me the reins. He said, “Bit of a rogue. But we’ll work it out of him.”
    He went into the barn and came out with a coiled rope.
    Both Daddy and Uncle Luke had learned how to rope cattle when they were boys, but Daddy hardly did it at allanymore. Uncle Luke, though, still hired out to do ranch work, and he roped cattle all the time. Now he came over and held out his hand for the reins. Then he led George into the center of the arena.