by Suzanne Weyn
“Okay,” Taylor agreed as she smiled at Mercedes and waved.
Mercedes lifted her chin in response, never taking her sight off Monty, her eyes burning into the horse. It was as if she was remembering a different time, when Monty was her horse, and hers alone.
Taylor was so distracted by the distant and sad look on Mercedes’ face that, after landing her low jump, she didn’t properly guide Monty to the center of the ring. Sensing Taylor’s inattention, Monty made a beeline for Mercedes.
Taylor pulled on Monty’s left rein and pushed her right leg into his side to correct his direction, but Monty insisted on trotting up to the fence, sticking his nose through the rails, and nudging Mercedes. Taylor was impressed by Monty’s loyalty to Mercedes. He had never forgotten her.
A smile broke through the gloom of Mercedes’ face as the horse nuzzled her, and she stretched forward to stroke his soft nose. With her free hand Mercedes reached into her back pocket and produced a sugar cube. Monty extended his neck to lick up the small, sweet block.
Taylor was always surprised to see this soft side of Mercedes. The only other time she’d witnessed it was back at the horse show when Mercedes had seen Monty again after so long. “Montana Wind Dancer,” Mercedes crooned. “How are you, Monty?”
The horse sniffed Mercedes, his ears forward attentively.
Mercedes stroked his white mane. “Don’t worry, boy. I’ll find a way to get you back,” she said. “I have no idea how, but I’ll figure out something. There’s got to be a way to do it.”
At the other end of the ring, Keith returned with a tall blonde whom Taylor recognized immediately.
“What’s Plum’s mother doing here?” Taylor hissed to Mercedes.
Without turning much, Mercedes cut her eyes over to Beverly Mason.
Taylor kept her head down, not wanting to make it obvious that they were studying the adults. A burst of laughter traveled across the ring as Keith Hobbes and Beverly Mason shared a joke. “They seem to know each other,” Taylor observed.
Once again Mercedes shrugged, rolling her eyes. “It happens. The horse people in an area tend to know one another. When we lived in Connecticut we knew everyone around us who had horse farms.”
Why was Keith talking to Plum’s mother? Taylor realized that in just this short time, she had come to feel possessive of him. Keith was her teacher. She didn’t want to share him with Plum. Was that why Beverly Mason was here, to book a lesson?
“I don’t like the way they seem to be talking about Monty,” Mercedes commented.
Taylor tucked in her chin and cast another furtive glance across the ring. Keith was pointing toward Monty as he said something that caused the woman to nod in agreement.
Taylor’s skin bristled with excitement in the crisp afternoon air as she pulled the halter on over Prince Albert’s ears. She couldn’t tell if it was because of the chilly breeze or because today was the day Eric would trailer Jojo over so they could work on getting the horses to accept other riders.
“You’ll be okay with Eric, won’t you?” Taylor urged her horse. “I know you don’t like guys, but he’s really very nice.”
Taylor knew he would respond to the sound of her voice, as he always did. For fun, she added a question. “So, do you think you could cooperate and let him ride you? At the very least, don’t try to scare him out of his wits. Can you do that?”
Prince Albert whinnied, tossing his black mane.
Was it a yes or a no? Did it mean anything at all?
Taylor hoped it was a yes and decided to stay positive. “Okay, I’m assuming you’re saying you will. Good boy.”
She brought Prince Albert into the main aisle, clipping him to cross ties. Looking around, she noted the distinct difference between the smells and sights of Ross River Ranch and Wildwood Stables. Although they were neat here at Wildwood, it was not nearly as immaculate as the elite Ross River. She glanced around at the stall doors and chewed her lip thoughtfully as she envisioned what it would look like if the old, dusty stalls had shiny gold plaques and blanket racks in front of every door.
Taylor patted Prince Albert’s neck as she walked past him and into the tack room. She stooped to grab her grooming tote from the corner. It consisted of two used curry combs that Mercedes had given her and one she’d found on the floor in the tack room, used hard and soft brushes Mrs. LeFleur had given her, a mane brush Dana’s mother had presented her as a gift, and an old hoof pick she had found in one of the paddocks. The only items Taylor had purchased with her own money were a bottle of fly spray and some spray-on coat conditioner.
As she walked back into the aisle she saw the rusty old Westheimer Ranch truck rumble down the drive towing a silver horse trailer, a thick plume of dust following close behind it. Prince Albert nickered in response to the loud truck, and Taylor quickly tried to look as busy as possible as she fought back a grin of excitement. Somehow that smile came to her face every time Eric was around.
Grabbing a curry comb, she brushed Albert’s coat in small circles, removing the dirt and grass Albert had rolled in. She shook the curry comb to remove the excess hair, but paused and looked at it. No hair had stuck to the comb as it often did. Taylor had been so busy that she’d barely had time to recognize that the weather was turning colder. Glancing down at her fly spray, she realized that there was now no need for it. The coming of colder weather meant no more insects.
Prince Albert sputtered once again, seeming to welcome the arrival of the new horse. Taylor straightened her shirt, smoothed down her hair, and put her curry comb back in the tote. Leaving Prince Albert’s side, she took a deep breath and walked toward the horse trailer.
A young man in overalls pulled the truck and trailer to a stop in front of the main building. Eric sat beside him in the passenger seat.
“Hey, Taylor,” Rick, the ranch hand at Westheimer’s, greeted her as he climbed out of the truck. “Is Mrs. LeFleur around?”
“In the office,” Taylor replied. “What’s up?”
“Nothing much. Ralph wants me to ask her if she’d like to split another load of hay. Saves money, buying lots of bales all at once.”
Taylor jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “She’s right inside.” Looking back to the cab of the truck, she saw that Eric had already slipped out and gone around to open the rear doors. She heard the familiar sound of hooves clanging on the steel unloading ramp.
“Hey! Need any help unloading?” she called, hurrying around to join him.
Eric turned to her. “I think we’re all set,” he said with a smile as he coaxed his black Tennessee walking horse down the ramp. Taylor took a minute to admire its straight profile, muscular arched neck, and high-set tail.
Eric spoke to the gelding in a low, calm voice. “Easy, boy. There ya go, almost done….” The way Eric spoke to Jojo made Taylor feel a little less silly for all the talking she did to Prince Albert.
Jojo finished backing and stood in front of them, looking around and taking in his surroundings. His ears swiveled like radars and his nostrils flared, full of the scent of the unfamiliar barn.
“Let’s get this started then,” Taylor suggested. “I just need to tack up Prince Albert, and we’ll be good to go.”
Eric nodded, following Taylor into the barn, Jojo in tow. He clipped Jojo to the cross ties behind Prince Albert. “Would you mind if I borrowed your grooming stuff? I left mine back at Westheimer’s.”
Taylor glanced dubiously down at her ragtag grooming items. “They’re sort of … worn,” she said, embarrassed.
“Do they work?”
“Well, yes, but …”
“Then there’s no problem,” Eric concluded firmly. He grinned and held out his hand. Smiling back, and suddenly feeling more comfortable, Taylor handed over the bag.
“Well, guess you won’t be needing this,” Eric said, nodding to the fly spray. “Good thing about it getting cold — no more bugs.”
“Funny, you read my mind. I was just thinking that. Since it’s get
ting colder, do you think I should try to find blankets for Prince Albert and Pixie?”
“Yeah, it gets pretty chilly at night now. I mean, they should be fine for the time being, but when the winter really hits they’re each going to need a thick blanket. This place isn’t heated like Ross River Ranch, after all.” Eric knelt and picked out Jojo’s hooves. Jojo lifted each leg gingerly as Eric scraped out the debris inside.
Taylor chewed her lip, brows furrowed. “How much does a good blanket cost, do you think?”
“Around a hundred and fifty, I’d say. There are always fancier blankets that cost more, but the average for a sturdy turnout blanket would probably be about that.”
He stood and ran his hand along Jojo’s sleek coat. “I’ll be right back,” he said, and hurried away down the aisle. He soon returned with a saddle and bridle. “A blanket for Pixie would cost less, of course,” he resumed their conversation as he tossed the saddle onto Jojo’s back. “Ya know, being smaller — less material and all.”
Taylor nodded, not happy to have heard the figures. That was three hundred dollars she didn’t have — even if Pixie’s blanket cost a little less. She didn’t want them to be cold, but how would she afford everything?
Eric looked across Jojo’s back at her. “What’s the matter?”
“Horse stuff can get so expensive. I wish all of it was cheaper. It would sure make my life easier,” she admitted.
Eric chuckled, tightening the cinch. Jojo gritted his teeth in protest but made no move against it. “It sure would,” Eric agreed. “It stinks sometimes, doesn’t it? Back when I worked over at Westheimer’s most of the money I made went right back out to pay for Jojo’s stuff. Now that I’ve been laid off I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
“If only we had money like the people at Ross River,” Taylor said. “The wealth is intense over there. They don’t even groom and tack up their own horses!” Taylor slid the snaffle bit into Prince Albert’s mouth. After that, she reached up and worked his ears under the bridle’s crown piece. “I kind of like this part of riding, though. It helps you bond with your horse.”
Eric nodded, taking a hold of Jojo’s reins. “I agree. So I guess you’re lucky that you’re not super rich like them. You get more out of it, since you put more work into it.”
Taylor paused and nodded thoughtfully. She had never really looked at her struggles as positive things, only as necessary chores. Sometimes she even felt sorry for herself, wishing things came easier, and that she, Prince Albert, and Pixie didn’t have to constantly worry about earning their keep.
But what Eric said made sense, in a way. The closeness she felt to Prince Albert and Pixie was also a product of the fact that the three of them worked together as a sort of team.
“You’re right,” she admitted. “Still, not having money doesn’t exactly feel lucky.”
“I know what you mean,” Eric agreed. “I might have some luck coming up, though.”
“Really?”
“A guy I know just got a job in the horse section of a big pet supply chain, and he says they throw tons of stuff away when it’s just a little outdated. He offered to sell me some of it at a big discount, and I could give some of it to you.”
Taylor’s jaw dropped. This was too good to be true. “Are you sure?” she asked.
Eric nodded. “Yeah. Why not? And since he’s getting the things for free I don’t think he’ll sell it to me for much. I hope not, anyway.”
“I’d pay you for it, of course,” Taylor added. This was great news. Whatever she’d have to pay would be less than if she went to the store for the supplies. She had a little money left from her birthday last spring. Her mother might give her some, and she could also ask her father.
“Let’s see how much he wants for the stuff first,” Eric suggested. “Maybe we can split the cost of things like shampoo and horse treats.”
“That would be awesome,” Taylor agreed. Eric was so great. She liked him more each time they were together.
“C’mon. You ready?” Eric asked.
Taylor took hold of Prince Albert’s reins and nodded. “Ready as I’ll ever be.” She turned to Prince Albert and asked, “You’re going to behave for Eric, aren’t you?” Although she knew that Eric was a very experienced rider, Taylor had her doubts about how Prince Albert would react. She knew that there was only so much even the best rider could do with a thousand-pound animal that simply didn’t want to be ridden.
And there was the other problem, too.
Despite her little talk with Prince Albert, she was pretty sure he still did not like men … not even young, wonderful ones like Eric.
They walked out of the stable into the main ring, Taylor latching the gate behind them. Eric looked up from checking and retightening Jojo’s cinch to say, “Almost forgot. Helmets. Don’t want to try to ride a new horse without one.”
Taylor thumped herself in the forehead, amazed that she could have forgotten. “You’re right! Hold Prince Albert for a second while I run in and grab them, please?” she said, handing the reins over to Eric’s outstretched hand. She jogged back into the tack room, snatching a helmet for Eric off of its hanging spot on the wall. Next, Taylor grabbed her own helmet from her tack box and then jogged back out to the ring.
Eric stood there, looking completely relaxed in the afternoon light, a horse in each hand. Taylor handed him a helmet. “Here, this should fit you.”
“Thanks,” Eric said, letting go of the horses as he placed the helmet on his head and clipped the buckle. He bobbed his head around to make sure it was a secure fit. “Perfect.”
“Horse swap time,” Taylor said once her helmet was on. She held out Prince Albert’s reins so Eric could take over.
Taylor took Jojo’s reins and led him over to the mounting block. Eric stayed where he was, stroking Prince Albert’s neck. Taylor couldn’t make out what Eric was saying, but she was sure he was trying to reassure Prince Albert that he would be a good rider, if Prince Albert would let him.
Jojo danced around as Taylor stuck one foot in the stirrup and swung herself gently onto Jojo’s back. “Nice boy,” she praised him. So far, so good, she thought.
She pushed her heels into Jojo’s sides and clucked for a walk. Jojo didn’t move. Taylor asked again, clucking louder and kicking a bit harder.
Still nothing.
“Try telling him to ‘walk on.’ He’s trained for voice cues, so that might work. I told you he was weird with other riders,” Eric called out from the other side of the ring as he approached the mounting block.
“Walk on,” Taylor said in a firm voice.
She waited a moment but was suddenly lurched backward in the saddle as Jojo set off at a run. “Whoa! Walk! Walk! Not gallop!” she shouted to Jojo.
The horse ignored her frantic commands.
With her free hand, Taylor grabbed the saddle horn for added support and pulled back on the reins with her other hand. “Whoa! Slow down! Stop!” she shouted as she raced around the ring at a terrifying speed. Taylor and Jojo barreled around the ring for a full lap, and Jojo was clearly heading for another.
Eric climbed on top of the mounting block and cupped his hands around his mouth for a megaphone effect. “Jojo, hooooo!” he called out in a deep voice, holding the “o” in a bass note. Jojo slid to a stop in front of the mounting block, almost unseating Taylor completely.
Prince Albert glanced over, not seeming phased by the excitement.
Taylor panted and straightened herself, still clutching the horn with white knuckles. She looked up at Eric, her helmet askew, brown hair poking out of the sides. “Thanks,” she gulped, trying to catch her breath.
“You all right?” Eric asked, climbing down from the mounting block.
Although she was extremely shaken, she nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine.” She took a deep breath. “Whew! Jojo sure has some speed.” Taylor unclenched her hand from the horn and flexed it, regaining feeling.
Eric chuckled and patted Jojo’s neck before
turning and walking back to the mounting block. “Yeah, he likes to run. We barrel race, so he’s used to going from zero to sixty very fast. Sorry, I should have warned you he might do that.” Eric patted Jojo on the neck. “Good staying on there, though, cowgirl.”
Although Taylor’s heart had finally calmed down, it sped right back up again with the compliment. She was glad that her face was already flushed from the excitement so he couldn’t tell she was blushing.
Without being asked, Jojo began to walk around the outside of the ring at a slow pace, seeming to realize they weren’t in a barrel-racing pattern after all. Taylor clutched the reins, prepared for another takeoff. None came, though, and as they rounded the edges of the arena, Jojo’s head hung low and relaxed.
“Hey, I think he’s starting to like —” Taylor was cut off. She had looked up just in time to see Eric swing his other leg over Price Albert’s back and into the saddle.
At first, Taylor was surprised that Eric was actually riding Prince Albert. Her surprise quickly turned into fear as Prince Albert began the most vigorous bucking she had ever seen.
Eric gripped the reins in one hand. Taylor knew he was trying to keep Prince Albert’s head up, which would prevent him from bucking. Eric’s other hand remained outstretched for balance, a lot like she had seen in bronco busting competitions on TV.
Taylor stared wide-eyed and mouth agape as Eric was tossed forward and back. Prince Albert was in midair when his saddle slipped off to the side, sending Eric somersaulting through the air.
With a painful-sounding thud, Eric hit the ground. He bounced nearly a foot before sliding in the dirt. In the next second, when Prince Albert completed his buck, his hooves were only inches from Eric’s head.
Taylor gasped and quickly dismounted, her heart in her throat. Prince Albert, now spooked by the sideways saddle, galloped around the ring, flinging his body up in the air. Taylor’s eyes darted from Eric’s still figure on the ground, to the panicked horse bolting around the ring, to Jojo’s reins in her hand. Her mind raced. What should she do?