by Toni Mari
“Grace and beauty. Your riding skills astound me,” he teased. When his head turned forward the smile dropped off his face. “Hey, I think that’s Len’s horse, Spike.”
“Where?” Cory pointed. A riderless chestnut horse was standing off to the side of the trail. The horse nickered and tried to move toward us, but one of his front legs dangled below the knee.
“Oh shit! It looks like his leg is broken,” Cory said as he vaulted off Jet and hit the trail running. “Easy, boy. Don’t move,” Cory said when he reached Spike. He held the reins and ran his hands over the horse’s neck and down his shoulder. He didn’t touch the leg, but it was broken cleanly below the knee and hanging. Cory looked around, but Len was nowhere to be seen. He pulled out his cell phone. “Jane, I’m calling Kate at the barn. I’ll tell her to get the vet and an ambulance. It’s possible Len started walking back to the barn, but I think we would have seen him. You’re going to have to go back to the barn so you can show them where we are. Spike can’t walk. The vet’s going to have to put him down right here.”
I sucked my breath in sharply. I stared at Cory, frozen in horror. He was loosening the girth and sliding the saddle off the horse. He looked back at me over his shoulder.
“Jane, go! Move it!” Cory commanded. “I need to look for Len, he’s probably hurt. Hurry!”
I turned Windsong and trotted back up the trail. I kept repeating, “Oh shit. Oh shit,” in my head. Tears burned my eyes and my throat clogged. All I could imagine was the worst about Len. What if he was …? I refused to finish that thought and urged Windsong faster. The branches reached in over the trail, so I could only trot. It seemed to take such a long time to get to the part where the trail opened up and was wide and clear. Once I turned onto that part, I urged Windsong to canter. My hands were shaking and my vision blurred. The only coherent thought in my head was: Get help! Spike needed the vet. I leaned over Windsong’s neck, clucked in his ear, and kicked him. Faster, I needed to get there faster. Windsong felt my urgency, stretched out his neck, and galloped. I held onto his mane, keeping my head down and guided him as best I could. I had to trust him to look where he was going because I was too busy avoiding branches. We broke out of the woods at a dead run and headed toward the barn. Kate came running out and waved me in.
“I talked to Cory. I called the vet, but he won’t make it for about a half hour. And an ambulance will be here any minute,” Kate said, and as she was speaking the wail of a siren approached. “Jane, take Windsong in his stall and untack him. Don’t let him outside until I get the ambulance to turn off the siren—we don’t need another horse having an accident because of the noise. He’ll cool himself down out in the field. Hurry!”
The ambulance rocketed in the driveway and Kate waved it down. “Shut down the siren, it freaks the horses out. C’mon, Jane!” she called.
Windsong leapt out of the stall, his hoof beats echoing loudly in the eerie silence following the screaming siren. I jogged to the ambulance. Just then, Chase arrived in the farm utility vehicle.
“Jane, can they get the ambulance back to where you were in the woods?” Kate asked.
I shook my head. “No, I don’t think so. We were pretty far in.”
“Well, tell them to park the ambulance at the entrance to the woods,” Chase suggested. “We’ll put a stretcher on the bed of the vehicle and see how far in we can get.”
Kate told the ambulance to follow us, and then ran in and got her medical kit from the tack room. She hopped in. I squeezed in next to her, pointing the way.
When we got close to the woods, Kate’s cell phone chirped. “It’s Cory,” she said and answered it. She listened for a minute and then said, “Thank God. Don’t move him.” After she snapped her phone closed, she recited what Cory had told her. “He found Len, he’s unconscious. It looks like he got tossed into a tree, maybe banged his head and broke a leg. Cory’ll stay with him until we get there.”
They loaded the stretcher onto the back of the cart and the paramedics sat back there too. I guided them in as far as the four-wheel drive vehicle would go. They all got out and Kate grabbed her medical kit.
We came upon Spike first. He was standing with his head hanging so low his nose brushed the ground. He was soaked in sweat and his breathing was fast and laborious. Jet stood next to Spike with his head held low too. “Oh, no,” Kate said. “I’ll call the vet to see if I can give him something. Jane, you go with them to find Len.”
“Cory!” I called as I started up the trail, the paramedics following me.
“Over here!” he yelled back. We found the boys a few hundred feet deeper in the woods. The paramedics got to work. Quickly, they had Len on a backboard and were walking him out of the woods.
“I’ll drive them back to the ambulance and bring the vet back in when he gets here,” Chase said. He gave Cory a pat on the back and headed out.
Cory grabbed my hand and we walked back to where Spike was standing.
Kate was stroking his neck. “I gave him some painkiller, but I don’t know if it will even help.”
Cory leaned his head on the horse’s neck. “Oh, buddy. I’m so sorry.” He ran his fingers along Spike’s neck, talking low to him. I was flat out crying. Kate glanced my way and shook her head.
When the vet finally got there, he gave Spike a strong painkiller. “We have to walk him at least to where the trail widens. There’s no way we can even get a tractor back here to pick up his body. It will look bad when he walks,” the vet explained, “but he shouldn’t feel it too much.”
I took Jet’s reins and Cory took Spike’s and we slowly proceeded toward the wider trail. I looked back once, but it was heartbreaking to watch Spike hopping on three legs. So, I didn’t do it again. I faced forward and walked Jet very slowly so that Spike wouldn’t get upset.
Finally, we made it. Cory slid Spike’s bridle off and rubbed his head. Tears slid down his face. The vet gave the injections and Spike sank to the ground. Cory sat right on the ground with him and held his head in his lap until the vet said he was gone. The vet patted Cory’s shoulder and headed to the utility vehicle.
“Jane, are you coming with us?” Kate asked.
“She can ride double with me on Jet,” Cory said quietly. “We’ll be right behind you.”
Kate gave me a hug and patted my cheek. “It sucks, but it happens. At least, it seems like Len is going to be okay.” She left with the vet.
I put my hand on Cory’s shoulder. He grabbed it and pulled himself up. He enveloped me in his arms and held me tightly. My tears soaked into his shirt. When he let go of me, he lifted the bottom of his t-shirt to wipe his wet face. Cory got on Jet first and I pulled myself up behind him. I wrapped my arms around him and whispered, “I’m sorry,” into his back. I felt him trembling.
“I thought Len was dead when I saw him lying there,” Cory said quietly. We didn’t talk anymore on the way back to the barn.
As we came out of the woods, Chase was heading toward us on the tractor with the loader. He stopped, hopped down, and jogged over. He held up his hand and Cory clasped it. “Seems Len’s gonna be okay. Broken leg and maybe a concussion.”
Cory took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You need help?” he let go of Chase’s hand and nodded toward the loader.
“Nah, I got it. Why don’t you two head over to the hospital? Tell Len I took good care of his boy.” Chase patted Jet’s shoulder and headed back to the tractor.
I helped Cory put Jet away, and we drove to the hospital. Len was in a bed in the emergency room and his parents were with him. The nurses let us in, but they said we could only stay a few minutes. Len was awake and actually smiled at us. Cory walked up to his bed and bumped fists with Len. “Glad to see you’re back in the land of the living.”
“They say my leg’s not as bad as the time I broke it riding that bronc. But I smashed my head good. Because I was unconscious so long, they’re keeping me overnight. We’re waiting for them to find a room,” Len responded.
“All I remember was Spike and me loping down the trail. We got to that rough spot and he listed sideways,” Len recalled. “I don’t know if he shied or stumbled, but next thing I know, I’m flying through the air. That’s all I remember,” Len said.
Cory glanced at Len’s parents. Len’s dad shook his head. They hadn’t told Len yet. Len’s mom stepped up to the bed, intending to be the one to tell him. Cory put his hand on her arm. “I’ll tell him,” he said softly.
“Tell me what?” Len looked back and forth between Cory and his mom. Len’s mom nodded and stepped back and put her head on her husband’s shoulder.
“Spike fell because he broke his leg, Len. He broke it bad. I’m so sorry.” Tears slid out of Cory’s eyes. I couldn’t stand the look in Len’s eyes, and my own welled up.
Len turned his head away. He didn’t look at any of us when he asked, “It’s done? They put him down?”
“Yes, I was with him the whole time. And Chase said to tell you he was taking care of him. I can’t believe it, buddy.” Cory shook his head.
“Shit, I’ve had that horse a long time.” Len’s voice was rough. “Poor old guy.”
I stepped up to the bed and gave Len a hug. “I’m sorry, Len,” I whispered.
Chapter 2 7
That day was a turning point in my riding. Maybe it was the loss of Spike that made me realize each day with my horse was a gift and anything could happen to take him away. Or maybe it was that wild ride back to the barn. Windsong ran his heart out for me without making a fuss. Whatever it was, Windsong didn’t scare me anymore. His behavior—his leaps and spooks—became understandable, tolerable. Perhaps our connection became stronger, because I didn’t think of him as crazy and unpredictable anymore. He was high strung and high maintenance. I was beginning to feel like I knew what he needed me to do.
Kate sent my entries in for my first qualifying show. This would really be our debut: the team of Jane Mitchell on Windsong. Instead of being nervous and stressed, I was excited. I could handle this; I would do just fine. And Windsong? He would dance and shuffle and do his best to overreact to anything that came his way. I was getting better at focusing all that energy into something that would be a performance. It was all good.
I walked into the barn one afternoon a few weeks later, tossing my stuff down in front of Windsong’s stall. I went in search of Kate to confirm our lesson. I found her sipping wine in the observation room of the indoor arena but stopped dead in the doorway, my mouth dropping open so that I had to quickly cover it with my hand. Sitting next to her chatting casually was none other than Robert Peterson, world-renowned international dressage competitor, six-time Olympic medal winner, and constant presence in the equine media. I was afraid to speak.
Kate waved me in. “Here she is. Jane, come meet Robert.”
I shuffled awkwardly, dragging my leaden feet.
“Robert is here by my request. I asked him in to polish you up before our show.”
My eyes bugged out. He’s going to teach me? I shook my head slightly. I couldn’t ride in front of him—I sucked. Kate gave me a knowing smile and nodded. “Yes, you can. Go get your horse, we’ll be waiting here.”
I turned slowly and mindlessly walked back into the barn. An Olympian, here at the farm. Here, for me. I practically smacked right into Cory.
He steadied me with both hands on my shoulders. “What’s wrong with you? I called your name like five times.”
“You won’t believe it! I just met Robert Peterson. He’s here to give me a lesson.” I bit my lip.
“Who’s Robert Peterson?”
“Come on, you know. He won six medals in the Olympics.” I shook my head again. “I can’t do it.”
“Sure you can. You ride every day, this is no different.”
“But he’s going to watch me, teach me. I suck, I can’t ride without mistakes. He’s going to think I’m some poser.”
“You don’t have to be perfect. He’s here to help you.” He gave me a quick squeeze. “Good luck. I’ll meet up with you later. I got a few more chores to get done.”
I watched Cory walk out the door. He wouldn’t understand. I’ve never ridden with someone famous. I wanted to look like a pro.
With shaky hands, I tacked up Windsong. The adrenaline coursing through my body made me work like I had had three cups of coffee. I tried to move fast so that I didn’t keep Robert waiting, but I fussed with my saddle, redoing the girth twice. I wrapped Windsong’s legs in sparkling white dress polos, the ones I used for award ceremonies only. I rewrapped them so that they were perfect. Windsong started to get fidgety for the second wrap, and I smacked his shoulder. “Stand still.” But he lifted his foot every time I tried to put the wrap on his left hind. It was the last one; couldn’t he just keep his leg still? I yanked on his tail, trying to get him to shift his weight onto that leg. Instead, he snatched back his tail, trying to get away from me. I punched him in the big, solid muscled part of his rump. “Stand still,” I said tightly. Finally, I got the wrap on, did a quick polish on my saddle and bridle, and buffed my boots before I put them on.
I checked myself in the little mirror hanging in the tack room as I had twirled my hair into a quick bun and squeezed it into a hairnet, then smashed the helmet down on my head. It wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do. I didn’t want to keep them waiting any longer. I shoved the two bits into Windsong’s mouth, ignoring his resistance, and buckled up as fast as I could before dragging him down the aisle way.
“What’s wrong with you? Come on.” I yanked the bridle a few times. Windsong had his head up and was walking like Frankenstein, stiff legged and slow. Usually he danced and pranced to the arena, so I gave another tug.
When I entered the arena I looked through the glass to see what Kate wanted me to do. She didn’t notice me come in, so I just stood there and waited and Windsong started fidgeting. I pulled on the bridle to make him stand still. He would stand for a second, and then step around me. “Stand still,” I said through gritted teeth, jabbing my thumb into his shoulder. Finally, Kate poked her head out the door and said, “Get on. Start your warm-up. We’ll be out in a few minutes.”
I brought Windsong over to the mounting block and climbed up. As I stood arranging the reins, Windsong swung his back end away from the block. I rolled my eyes, hopped down, and pushed him back in line. This time, I quickly stepped up, stuck my foot in the stirrup, and threw my leg over just as he stepped away again, making me lurch forward onto his neck. I shortened the reins and gave them a stiff jerk. Windsong tossed his head up and jigged sideways.
Cursing under my breath, I tried to compose myself. You would think after all this time and work, he would at least let me get on and just walk forward calmly. But no, make Jane look like a jerk, act like you’ve never been trained a day in your life. I glanced at the window of the observation room hoping they weren’t even paying attention yet. Of course, two sets of eyes were locked on me. I gave him a swift kick with the foot they couldn’t see. He hopped forward bobbing his head. No, I’m not letting the reins out.
I squared my shoulders and gave him a good firm squeeze with my legs, reinforcing it with a quick tap on his haunches with the whip. He started forward, high stepping, bracing his neck against the bit. His teeth were clamped down, lips tight. I glanced toward the window again just as Cory slipped into the observation room. He gave me a thumbs-up.
I rolled my eyes. I could feel it. This was going to be a disaster. I posted at the trot and tried to get myself to relax. I forced my hands forward, loosening the reins a bit. As I approached the observation room, they all stood up and filed toward the door. Cold dread slithered through my body. Kate pulled the door open and Robert stepped out. At that, Windsong went flying toward the center of the ring, breaking into a tight, hopping canter. I saw red. I leaned back i
n the saddle and hauled on the reins with all my strength. The harsh pressure of two bits slamming onto Windsong’s jaw freaked him out. He reared straight up, vertical to the ground. I was already too far back in the saddle to be able to keep my balance, but I had such a hold of the reins I didn’t fall off. Windsong’s mouth gaped wide open, and unless I loosened the reins and threw my weight forward, we were both going over backward.
“Easy, boy.” I heard Cory’s soothing voice. Windsong heard it too. He gave a mighty jerk, throwing himself forward and pulling me back up into the saddle. I grabbed the front of it with one hand and struggled to regain my balance. Cory was standing in front of Windsong, rubbing his head. “Good boy, easy boy.”
“Good boy?” I hissed. “He nearly dumped me.”
“He saved you from falling, he pulled you back into the saddle.” Cory’s eyebrows drew together. “What is wrong with you?”
“Me? This horse is what’s wrong with me.”
Cory didn’t get a chance to respond. Kate came up and took a hold of the reins. “Get off.”
“Oh, good. You’re going to ride him. He is a complete jerk today,” I whined as I slid off, still shaking.
“I am not going to ride him. I told Robert that he could be cold backed sometimes. That if we didn’t have the saddle just right, he would act up. I am going to pretend to adjust the saddle. When you get back on this horse, you’d better start riding right. I don’t want to see anymore jerking and kicking.”
A lump formed in my throat and I blinked away the sting in my eyes. I looked from Kate’s to Cory’s stern face. Why were they picking on me? They knew how stupid this horse was. And today of all days, he acts up in front of Robert. I started toward the mounting block, but Cory stopped me with a hand on my shoulder. “I’ll give you a boost.” Kate nodded and headed back to Robert. “Hey, calm down,” he said softly. “This is a lesson. Let the trainer tell you how to ride the horse.”