“I think it looks really good. Very chic.” Jo Anne nodded her approval.
As long as they do the job, Kim thought. The chimes would be pointless if they didn’t keep Joey away from the fencing.
“I’m going to grab a halter and walk Joey around the fence line,” Kim said. “He needs to know what these chimes are for.”
“Good idea,” Sarah said.
Kim stopped at the first chime and encouraged Joey to bump it. They repeated the same process at every chime along the fence and at each tree. Joey’s head bobbed, his tail and ears relaxed. Sporadically, Joey would nicker and Speckles would nicker in response, almost as if they were playing a game of Marco Polo.
The second time around the enclosure, Kim stopped Joey at every third chime before walking him toward the site of his accident—a location she had avoided the first time around. Hank had already repaired the fencing. It looked as if nothing had ever happened. Yet a glance at Joey’s bandaged legs brought the painful reality right back to the forefront of Kim’s mind.
As they paused momentarily, Joey made a low blowing sound, the air reverberating through his large nostrils in a staccato rhythm. His ears flicked and turned as if searching for something. Within seconds, Speckles let out a loud deep sigh. Joey turned his head toward him and relaxed his ears.
“Are you two talking to each other?” Kim asked, looking from one horse to the other.
Joey and Kim arrived at the gate again. Kim was about to start a third go-around when Barb stopped her.
“Joey’s got it. Let’s give him a break and let him investigate on his own.”
But did he have it? Surely he needed another pass.
“Sweetie, he’s tired. You’re tired. Let’s leave this one in God’s hands for now, okay? It’s only two o’clock. You can sit in the office and watch him through the window.”
Reluctantly, Kim unfastened Joey’s halter and turned him loose.
Worry and trust, she thought. Then she corrected herself. No. Just trust.
CHAPTER 6
“NO SIR!” Lauren hollered at Speckles, seeing him charge Joey again at the hay bin. She had been there the day Speckles arrived, when he nearly bit Kim’s hand, and without really thinking, she hopped through the fence rails and into the paddock, finger wagging.
As she stood with her index finger a foot from the jaws of a bullying horse, she began to have second thoughts. What is this going to accomplish exactly?
The two Appaloosas had been at Hope Reins for almost a week, and though the wind chimes had effectively kept Joey from running into the electric wire fence, they did not protect him from Speckles, who still charged Joey at every feeding time, refusing to let him near the hay box. The volunteers had started leaving Joey’s hay on the ground near the gate, but Lauren wasn’t keen on that solution. She couldn’t imagine forcing one of her two daughters to eat off the floor because the other one kept pushing her away from the table.
So every day, Lauren pulled four flakes—smaller sections of hay—from the large bale in the feed shed and carried them to the feedbox in the middle of paddock two. Then she pushed the wheelbarrow containing the rest of the herd’s hay back through the paddock gate and stood outside the fence to watch what would happen next.
Right on cue, Speckles sauntered to the box. At first, Joey seemed uninterested in breakfast. But soon, Speckles’ chomping got his pasture-mate’s attention, and Joey began to cautiously move forward. His head bobbed as he walked, his jaw moving as if chewing on an invisible stalk of hay. Lauren quickly noticed that Speckles was glaring, his ears pinned back so far they touched his brown mane. He was a horse ready to strike. Poor Joey, unable to see the warning signs, was oblivious. Maybe he thinks this time will be different, Lauren reasoned. Gotta give Joey credit for trying.
Speckles was certainly creating a reputation for himself at Hope Reins—and it wasn’t a good one. His propensity to kick and bite when upset was not winning him many friends at the ranch, either human or equine.
She had heard that Speckles had been sweet to Joey on the day they discovered his injuries, but since then, the staff had reported nothing but bully-like behavior. It just doesn’t make sense.
The previous day, Barb’s teenage daughter, Anna, a natural with horses, had volunteered to assess Speckles’ ability to carry a rider—one of the many aspects of building a relationship with a child at Hope Reins. Speckles had stomped and snorted as Anna mounted him, but he seemed to settle down as she got adjusted in the saddle. However, the moment she had flicked the reins and clucked her tongue for him to walk, Speckles grew visibly agitated. Thinking he just needed a few more minutes to relax, Anna kept walking him, eventually signaling him to trot. A few steps later, Speckles bucked and Anna went flying off. Fortunately, she wasn’t seriously hurt, but the incident was one more black mark against Speckles.
As Lauren watched Speckles, she wondered if the abuse he had endured at the breeding ranch had rendered him untrainable. She was beginning to feel sorry for the rescued horse. And then . . . Speckles attacked Joey once again, teeth nipping at the air—a bully and his victim.
Lauren had had enough. With one hand on her hip, she stood between the two horses, wagged her finger at Speckles, and yelled at the top of her lungs, “No, SIR! That is NOT how we treat our friends! You will not charge Joey anymore. Do you hear me?”
Speckles’ nostrils flared as he flattened his ears.
Uh-oh, Lauren thought, losing a little of her bravado. Determined to show no fear, she took a single step forward. Speckles held his ground, snorting his displeasure. Lauren honed in on his eyes, staring the horse down as she moved in closer. He stomped his front right leg against the ground, sending bits of hay and dry grass into the air. Lauren took another step. Speckles’ eyes twitched, and his muscles tightened. One more step. Lauren inhaled deeply, steadying herself for what might come. She should have turned back long ago, but now she was committed. She would see this through. She would . . .
Suddenly Speckles moved backward, his reaction nearly throwing Lauren off-balance. She stopped, not believing what had just happened. I won. Speckles had submitted to her. Granted, it was what she’d been hoping for, but she didn’t actually think it would work. She studied his eyes again. They didn’t appear to be filled with as much tension. He released a long sigh as he retreated another step. Then he tilted his head to the right, watching her.
“Good boy,” Lauren whispered. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
Emboldened by her victory, she extended her arm toward Speckles, offering her closed fist for his inspection. It took several seconds, but then Speckles bumped her fist with his nose, blowing a puff of air on it. They looked at each other again. That was when she saw it—the spark of intelligence. The twinkle of understanding. This horse was not dumb. No, this horse was smart. Very smart.
Granted, Lauren’s horse experience was limited. However, she had grown up with dogs and competed in agility with them, a popular dog sport where the canine competitor is directed through a course of obstacles by its human partner. She knew what it took to train an animal. She knew that look—that “Teach me, I want to learn” look. Speckles’ behavior was a challenging puzzle she wanted to solve.
Taking two more nonchalant steps toward Speckles, Lauren was inches from the horse. She gently touched a white spot on his cheek, then scratched behind his ear.
“Speckles, who are you really?” she asked.
Sensing that Speckles had stopped eating, Joey decided to get some breakfast. But as soon as Speckles heard Joey pulling hay from the box, his head whipped around. Lauren felt Speckles tense up—on alert again, and ready to attack.
“Oh no you don’t,” Lauren said, winding her fingers through his short brown mane. “You, my friend, are going to let Joey have a turn.”
Lauren placed herself directly in front of Speckles. Every time he moved, she moved, effectively blocking his path. Speckles pawed at the ground, his hooves digging grooves in the sparse grass. Lauren knew that he
was gearing up to charge.
She wagged her finger in his face again. “No sir,” she interjected, holding her arm out in front of him. “You stay right here.”
Lauren began scratching Speckles’ neck, giving Joey more time to finish.
“You’re okay, Joey,” Lauren assured him. “Speckles is going to share today.”
Joey cautiously ate three more mouthfuls before quickly retreating. Clearly, he was not going to push his luck with Speckles.
“At least it’s a start,” Lauren muttered, trying to convince herself that Speckles could be a good pasture-mate for Joey—someday.
Lauren lowered her arm to release Speckles from his time-out. She patted the horse one more time before walking over to Joey and giving him a scratch on the rump.
“Don’t let him boss you around.”
Satisfied that all was well, Lauren left the paddock, pausing to massage her right knee. Lately, it seemed as if the ever-present dull pain were becoming more intense. Lauren braced herself against a weathered picnic table. She was trembling from the physical pain but also from the realization that Speckles could easily have kicked or bitten her. What was I thinking?
Sarah interrupted Lauren’s thoughts. “That was pretty impressive—risky and incredibly dangerous, but impressive. I haven’t seen that technique before, but it seemed effective, although probably not something Kim would have condoned.”
“Yeah, I don’t imagine wagging your finger in the face of an irritable horse is going to be in any horse training manuals,” Lauren joked. “But sometimes the mom instincts just take over. Honestly, I think Speckles just needs to know what we expect from him, to learn his boundaries—just like Joey.”
Sarah nodded. The Appaloosas were peacefully grazing several feet from the hay box where all the drama had taken place just minutes ago.
“The fact is,” Lauren said, “I detected something in Speckles—a hint of understanding. I think he needs us to understand him. Does that make sense?” Lauren continued to rub her knee.
Sarah couldn’t hide the sadness that suddenly swept over her. “Yes, I think it does.”
The two women stood silently for a few moments before Sarah added, “Maybe Speckles needs us to understand how his past affects his present.”
Of course! Lauren looked at Sarah with newfound respect as someone wise beyond her years. When they had first met, Lauren had thought Sarah seemed a bit standoffish. Lauren was fifteen years older than Sarah, and the extent of her athleticism was keeping up with her two children. She hadn’t found much in common with the younger, fit volunteer. But now she was beginning to wonder if she had judged Sarah too quickly.
“That’s exactly what I mean,” Lauren answered, forcing her thoughts back to Speckles. “The food guarding and hoarding makes perfect sense. How does he know he’ll get food each day, when he went so long without it at the other barn? Of course he wants to protect that food, and he sees every other horse as a threat.”
Yes, Speckles needed to learn to trust them, to know that he could depend on them.
Both women watched the horses, all of them serenaded by the wind chimes swaying in the breeze.
Sarah finally realized it was time to call it a day. “I guess I should get back to the feed shed and make sure everything’s put away.”
“I’ll walk with you.”
“Oh no you won’t,” Sarah commanded teasingly. “People who stop a bullying horse are automatically exempt from cleanup duty.”
Lauren smiled. “Deal,” she said. Truthfully, she was grateful for the break. The pain in her knee was getting worse. She winced as she put weight on it, forcing herself to hobble a few steps to loosen the joint. She stopped to massage the knee some more, frustrated when the pain spread to her hand as well. Every day seemed to bring new pain to a different joint, and countless doctor visits had only raised more questions, not provided answers. Was it fibromyalgia? Arthritis? Bursitis? No two doctors seemed to agree.
She took a few tentative steps. The pain was finally lessening. Across the paddock, Speckles whinnied, snorted, and shook his head. Yes, Speckles had some issues, but Lauren was drawn to him, almost as if God had placed them both here at the same time for a reason.
As Lauren continued to walk off the pain, Joey let out a soft neigh. Immediately, Speckles called out with what sounded like a low rumble of laughter, directing Joey back to him.
A bully one moment and a best friend the next. “You are one complicated horse, Mr. Speckles.”
Lauren wasn’t on the schedule the next morning, but she came anyway—in time to intercept the hay for Speckles and Joey. Maneuvering her way through the gate, she deposited her burden in the feedbox. Not surprisingly, Speckles was the first to arrive. He eyed Lauren as he lowered his head and tore into his breakfast. The moment Joey began moving toward him, Speckles lifted his head and snorted a warning.
“Oh no you don’t, mister,” Lauren corrected, extending her arms out from her sides to make herself look intimidating.
Speckles eyed her, assessing his options. But the moment Joey moved closer to the hay, Speckles started to lunge.
“No sir!” Lauren commanded sternly, holding her left arm in front of him.
She needed him to learn that he did not have to fight for his food, that they would give him all he needed. When she began to approach him, Speckles snorted, vigorously shook his head, and took a step back.
“Good boy!” she cheered, smiling widely. “Yes! That’s good, Speckles.”
Speckles’ ears twitched forward, his tail swooshing behind him. He knows I’m praising him. He knows he did good. Of course, now came the real test. After several minutes with Joey eating and Speckles waiting, Lauren lowered her arm, signaling to the horse.
“Okay, Speckles, come and eat with Joey.”
Speckles eyed Lauren momentarily before lowering his head. His brown head bumped Joey’s, and Joey stopped mid-chew. But nothing happened. Speckles ignored Joey, and the two of them ate side by side.
Lauren practiced the same feeding routine with Speckles throughout the week. In just five days, Speckles had gone from breakfast bully to polite dining partner. The transformation had gotten the attention of everyone at the ranch, including Kim.
“What you have done with Speckles is amazing,” Kim complimented Lauren one morning over a latte at Kim’s favorite coffee shop.
“Thank you,” Lauren said, still a little surprised that Kim had invited her to grab a cup of coffee after she had finished feeding the horses. She had been even more surprised that Kim was aware of her work with Speckles. After all, she did have an entire ministry to run.
“Lauren, I’m so glad for this chance to get to know you a little better,” Kim started, smiling at her. “And to meet your girls.” Lauren’s two young daughters, seven-year-old Harper and ten-year-old Kate, shyly looked up from their schoolwork. “You’ve been volunteering with us for a few months, right? What brought you to Hope Reins?”
“Well, I had seen the Hope Reins sign when my husband and I were driving home from a birthday party, and then the following day Harper noticed a horse by the road and started pleading with me to stop so she could pet him.” Lauren chuckled at the memory of Harper saying, “Mommy, I think that horse is lonely. Let’s go say hi.”
“So after a quick Google search, I discovered that Hope Reins was having a big opening event, and we decided to check it out. When the girls heard about the feeding teams, well, they pretty much signed me up. They love to run around while I take care of the horses, and—” she paused to wink at her girls—“all that exercise totally counts as PE credit for their homeschool program.”
Kim laughed and leaned toward the girls, giving them high fives. “Smart idea.” Turning her attention back to Lauren, she asked, “How long have you been homeschooling?”
Lauren took a long sip of her unsweetened tea before answering. “Since Kate started kindergarten.” She looked at her older daughter and smiled. “I had always liked the idea o
f homeschooling, especially the freedom I imagined it would bring. But then, the same year Kate turned five,” she said sadly, “homeschooling became a necessity.”
Lauren paused, measuring what she was about to say next.
“I began having pain, debilitating pain,” she clarified. “What I thought was a twisted knee has turned into a five-year search for answers. With constant doctor visits, tests, and days when I can’t get out of bed, we needed the flexibility of homeschooling.” Lauren glanced at a worksheet Harper had just completed and gave her a thumbs-up. “I mean, I’ve lost count of how many times we’ve done homeschool at doctors’ offices.”
“I like doing homeschool at Hope Reins,” Kate interjected, handing her paper to her mother for review and receiving a nod and a smile.
“Oh, Lauren, I had no idea you were dealing with such physical pain,” Kim said, her eyes starting to well up. “I am so sorry. I will be praying that you get some real answers soon.”
Once upon a time Lauren would have scoffed at the mention of prayer. But that was before she discovered a love relationship like no other she had ever known. A relationship so new that she was still completely overwhelmed with gratitude and joy.
“I can’t tell you how much that means to me, Kim. Thank you.”
“Now, I have a question for you. You don’t have to say yes, but I would like you to consider something.”
Lauren was intrigued. And a little nervous. “Okay.”
“You see, all I’ve heard the last week is how amazing you are with Speckles, and how much he has changed because of your training. The general consensus among the team is that you should be Speckles’ trainer.”
Seeing Lauren’s eyebrows go up, Kim quickly continued. “Speckles doesn’t have a trainer because most people are scared of him. But he needs someone to work with him and exercise him. Someone he can learn to trust.”
Lauren knew that Kim wanted the best for her horses as well as for the people working at Hope Reins. When the horses and volunteers were thriving, the kids who came benefited even more. It was one of the things Lauren admired about her.
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