Prompt: Misjudged by appearance, Part 2

…Continued from Part 1

Shelly ignored the watching foreman as she stroked this digger’s teeth and lip. When it started to rumble, she picked up the saddle reign and ran her hand down tot he bolts buried in the digger’s neck. She would no more ride a digger without checking the animal and gear than she would step onto a shuttle that hadn’t been properly inspected. Another test.

Finally, she popped a piece of dark rich chocolate into her mouth and tucked her foot into the stirrup, pushing herself up and swinging her other leg over the digger’s back and into the saddle.

The foreman squinted up at her. “What’s the chocolate for? Never saw that.”

Shelly grinned down at him. “I like chocolate.” She shrugged. He laughed aloud and stepped back to the fence.

Shelly didn’t ride with reins. If she had to use them, she had already lost. She rubbed her left leg back and forth against the digger’s side until she found the open rib bone. Tucking her ankle under it, she nudged with her foot. The digger snorted and turned to the right. Shelly found the right side rib and repeated her maneuver. It only took a handful of times for the digger to understand what she wanted, and she had him walking in a line near the fence, around the paddock. She headed for the open pit and turned the digger in to find a bare spot on the ground next to it.

Leaning forward, Shelly spread her fingers wide n either side of thedigger’s neck and slid them down in a swift cutting motion. She lifted her hands away and slapped them high up on the digger’s neck, sliding them down again. The digger lifted his head and roared. Shelly flattened against his back and held on to the saddle ropes.

The digger opened his mouth wide and plunged down, slmming into the dirt with a bone wrenching blow. His teeth sank through the hard, dry soil, and he pulled a biteful for the first time. He reared his head up again and roared in ecstasy, then plowed down again and again, dredging up huge mouthfuls of dirt with each blow to the ground.

Shelly kept a close watch on his progress, nudging him from side to side with her feet on his open ribs. Finally, she began to sweep her arms up, rather than down, until the digger stood silent and sweaty by the square pit he had dug.

The foreman clapped loud, slow handclaps as he approached them. “You’re your Daddy’s girl, all right. Impressive riding.  Clean him up and come back tomorrow. I’ll keep you busy.”

Before Shelly could thank him, he whirled on his boot heel and jogged toward another digger and rider. She watched for a moment and shook her head. The rider was an idiot. She had her work cut out for her.

TBC?

Music	Sting, “St Agnes and the Burning Train”
Time writing	~60 minutes
May word count	12,985