The Girl Who Loves Horses (Pegasus Equestrian Center Series)

by Diana Vincent

  “Yes, I can do that,” Sierra answered in a state of shock. “I would like that…thank you.”

  *****

  After school, Sierra worked alone doing the chores that had been such a pleasure when she and River had worked together. She still enjoyed the company of the horses as she readied them for lessons and cooled them out afterwards. But a great emptiness had seeped into the atmosphere of the stable without River. They had never talked much, but she missed his quiet competence, his ability to calm the nervousness of any horse, and how she trusted him to keep her safe. She wasn’t afraid of any of the horses, but some were definitely higher strung and harder to handle than others. Whenever a horse got himself wound up, River had always been right there to help her or at least tell her what to do.

  And although they never spoke of it, she knew he loved the animals as much as she did. How can he stand it to be away from the horses?

  *****

  On Tuesday for Sierra’s first lesson, Tess ordered, “Saddle up Fala. We’ll start with a lesson on the flat so use a dressage saddle.”

  Her nerves tight, Sierra tacked up the mare, feeling apprehensive in a way she had never felt before a lesson with River, as she imagined the critical scrutiny of Tess. But this is what I have dreamed of, she reminded herself. “I’m glad she picked you,” she told Fala as she buckled the throatlatch of her bridle and brought the reins over her head to lead her out. Sierra had probably ridden Fala more than any other of the horses and the mare’s familiar smooth gaits and willing personality would make the first lesson easier. Sierra led Fala into the arena at exactly three-thirty and waited at the mounting block.

  “Aren’t you warmed up?” Tess spoke in exasperation as she stepped up onto the observation platform and picked up the microphone.

  “No, I wasn’t sure if you wanted to watch my warm-up,” Sierra replied, already intimidated by this first greeting.

  “I expect you to be warmed up and ready to work by the time I arrive, “Tess informed her. “Mount up and let’s see what River has taught you.” She didn’t disguise the annoyance in her tone.

  Sierra mounted and moved Fala to the perimeter of the arena at a walk and with the reins long and loose to encourage the mare to stretch her neck; the way she always started her warm-up with River.

  “Gather up the reins and establish contact right from the beginning,” Tess ordered through the microphone.

  Sierra complied and sensed surprise and perhaps confusion from Fala at so soon being asked to lift her head and round her neck to accept contact with the bit. But she submitted willingly, perhaps as comfortable with Sierra as Sierra was with her.

  “I don’t believe in wasting time plodding around with your horse’s nose on the ground. The sooner they learn that once in the arena it’s time to work, the easier it is to overcome their resistance,” Tess instructed, watching Sierra walk Fala once around and then reverse direction. “Pick up a posting trot and come onto a twenty-meter circle in front of me.”

  Abdominal muscles pulled in, Sierra touched her legs to Fala’s sides and squeezed gently with her fingers on both reins to move the mare into a trot. Fala moved energetically and in a relaxed manner as Sierra guided her onto a circle in front of Tess.

  “She is too strung out; she needs to be rounder,” Tess called out. Sierra looked up at her instructor, not sure what she meant. “Shorten your reins and establish contact with the bit.”

  Sierra felt confused. She thought she did have contact with the bit. She could feel both sides of Fala’s mouth through the reins to her fingers, and when she squeezed on one or the other rein, the mare yielded her head obediently to that side. Don’t I already have contact? Nevertheless, Sierra shortened the reins, trying to keep her hold soft, but she felt a touch of resistance against her hands and a stiffening of Fala’s gait.

  “Change through the circle,” Tess called.

  What? Sierra didn’t understand what Tess wanted her to do. “I’m sorry, what do you mean?” she asked.

  “Oh for pity’s sake,” Tess groaned. “Didn’t River teach you anything? Ride her through the middle of the circle and reverse direction.”

  Sierra flushed as she complied. She had done this before under River’s direction; he just hadn’t used that terminology. She trotted Fala around, and unconsciously let the reins slip slightly in her hands back to a point where she felt she had light contact, and Fala moved forward with more energy.

  “Rounder!” Tess yelled. “You’ve let her pull the reins from your hands. Shorten those reins.”

  Again Sierra took up a bit more rein, not liking the response from Fala, yet determined to learn what Tess wanted her to do. Fala’s ears went flat in a sign of distress and her movements felt stiff.

  “Sitting trot,” Tess ordered.

  I can do this. Sierra tightened her belly as she eased her seat deep into the saddle, letting her lower spine move with Fala’s motion. Inadvertently, she released her hold on the reins again and Fala stretched her nose slightly forward as she moved into what Sierra felt was a more relaxed trot.

  “Sierra, how many times do I have to tell you not to let her pull the reins from your hands? Ride her over here and halt.” Sierra complied as Tess jumped down from the platform and came over to Fala’s side. “This is what I want you to feel,” she instructed. She reached over Fala’s withers and gathered up the reins so that Fala arched her neck toward her chest. “Grab hold here,” she ordered. Sierra took up the reins where Tess indicated and held on. “Do you feel the contact?”

  “Yes,” Sierra answered meekly. She certainly did feel the bit in Fala’s mouth but it felt like she was hanging onto it.

  “Now squeeze the reins with both hands.”

  Sierra obeyed and Fala tucked her nose in even deeper, her muzzle almost touching her chest.

  “She’s overbent now,” Tess explained, “but that’s okay. I want you to feel the amount of tension there needs to be in the reins at all times. You should maintain about ten pounds of pressure equally in both hands. Until you learn this contact you are not going to be able to push her up into the bit for collected work. Do you understand?”

  Sierra nodded. But she wondered. River had always said the reins should feel as if she had a baby bird in her hand. She needed to hold firm enough to keep the bird within her hand but not so tight as to hurt the bird.

  “Take her back out onto the circle and we’ll try some canter.”

  The rest of the lesson progressed in the same manner with Tess over and over yelling at Sierra to “shorten the reins,” or “rounder!” Fala became tense and resistive, and Sierra felt her own muscles tighten, making it hard to stay in balance. Their transitions were choppy and stiff and she had a hard time keeping her feet in the stirrups. Her shoulders ached trying to keep Fala from pulling the reins from her grip. At last Tess called out “enough for today,” and finally Sierra was allowed to release the reins and let Fala stretch her neck.

  “Any questions?” Tess asked as Sierra led Fala to where her instructor had jumped down from the platform to debrief.

  “It’s very different from how River taught me,” Sierra replied honestly.

  “River is a backyard rider,” Tess stated. “He doesn’t compete, and he’s always been too easy on the horses. At least you’ve developed a secure seat, but I think maybe it was a mistake to allow him to teach you for so long.

  Wait a minute! Sierra wanted to protest. She felt more confused than ever. Tess was essentially telling her that River had taught her incorrectly.

  “River has never taught anyone before,” Tess continued. “I was surprised when he offered to get you started. But I should have realized that without a background in showing or formal instruction that he would establish in you some bad habits.”

  Sierra nodded as she listened, feeling traitorous to River.

  “But I think we can correct them soon enough and no permanent harm. Did he take you out on the trails?”

  “Yes, at least twice a wee
k, sometimes more.”

  Tess nodded thoughtfully. “Don’t be discouraged. You’ve got a good start. In addition to your lessons, I think it will improve your seat and confidence if you ride one or two horses out on the trail every day, and include some trot and canter. Do you think you can do that?”

  Sierra certainly hadn’t expected to hear that. “Sure!” She answered.

  “Good; I’ll put a schedule of which horses you should ride each day on the notice board in the tack room and how much trotting and galloping you should do on each horse. I’ll have you ride two horses a day except on your lesson days, and then you only ride one. Is that agreeable?”

  “Yes. Thank you, I would like that.”

  Sierra led Fala back to the crossties and started removing her tack. She heard a trailer pull into the stable yard, which certainly wasn’t unusual. But then she heard Tess yell angrily, “Where is he?”

  “Hey Baby, what a greeting,” a man replied, his voice wheedling in tone.

  “You are not going to unload that mare,” Tess stated emphatically.

  “Listen, I’ll find him, don’t worry,” the man soothed. “The mare is in heat now. This can’t wait.”

  “My partner is not going to tolerate your horse here for free.”

  “Hey,” the man’s voice also took on an angry note. “River worked here all last summer when I didn’t have a horse here. That’s got to be worth something.”

  River’s father! Sierra realized who the man was arguing with Tess. Her curiosity overtook her judgment and she moved forward into the shadow of the stable doorway to peer out. The same dilapidated truck and trailer was parked in the yard with the ramp down. Manuel with his eyes wide and a lead rope in his hand stood by the ramp, looking back and forth between Tess and Cray Blackthorn as they argued.

  “Either you find River and have him back here by this weekend, or you start paying full board, or take your stallion away,” Tess stepped up closer to glare menacingly into Cray’s face.

  “Okay, okay, I said I’ll find him.”

  “He’s fifteen years old! Can’t you control him?” Tess demanded.

  “About as well as you can,” he retorted in a mocking tone.

  Tess spun away and Cray signaled to Manuel to go ahead and unload the mare.

  Sierra began to get a clue as to why River worked here. Was his father boarding his stallion here in exchange for River’s labor? River was only a kid; that couldn’t be legal.

  *****

  Undiscovered talent, Tess mused as she looked over the training schedules for the competition horses. She had no idea Sierra had made so much progress in only a few months. River had taught her well. She congratulated herself on how she had managed to unload the conditioning rides that she would have assigned to River; and have Sierra think it was a favor she was offering her. Well, the truth is it will be good for the girl to have more saddle time and nothing like riding cross country to gain a secure seat and confidence, she told herself, assuaging her conscience. I might actually have her ready to compete this season.

  Tess felt irritation welling up again as she shoved the schedules aside and picked up a stack of bills. River had only been gone five days but in that short time she had to devote extra hours to the conditioning rides; valuable time she needed to do office work. Maybe she could catch up with Sierra taking over those rides. But she still needed River’s talent in training the horses who would compete this season. Besides the conditioning rides, she used him to school the green horses in dressage and some jumping. But most importantly, River had a gift with the horses; somehow he knew instinctively how to calm and relax them. If she had River ride the competition horses a few days before an event, they seemed to become more manageable. She depended on his abilities to help maintain the reputation of Pegasus as a successful eventing stable…she needed River more than she cared to admit.

  *****

  13 Lessons With Tess

  Dressage becomes an art only when it’s a joy for the horse as well as for us. – Klaus Balkenhol

  *****

  “When I say shorten the reins I mean pick up those reins and shorten them!” Tess yelled out harshly. “Do not let her pull the reins from your hands. She has to learn what is expected of her. If she tries to pull the reins use your whip to push her forward. Now!”

  Sierra shuddered involuntarily at being yelled at…again, and struggled to comply with Tess’s demands. She rode Fala in the lesson, and the mare fought constantly against the tight hold on her bit. She either tossed her head or held it high with her neck stiff and hollow, resisting the pressure. Sierra took up two inches on the reins and whispered to the mare, “Please, Fala, relax,” and willed herself to relax as well. But every time Tess shouted at her, Sierra could feel her spine and muscles tense up. She simply was not accustomed to being yelled at.

  Fala snorted her displeasure and shortened her stride into a choppy trot.

  “Use the whip,” Tess yelled.

  Sierra tapped Fala’s flank with the long dressage whip causing the mare to jump forward in alarm and break into a canter.

  “Give her a hard jerk on the mouth and bring her back to the trot,” Tess demanded. “Breaking the gait is an evasion and she is being very disobedient. She has to learn to maintain the proper frame.”

  Frustrated, Sierra obeyed and jerked hard on the reins. With teeth gritted, she used all her arm and hand strength to hold tight to the reins and forcefully guide Fala around the serpentine pattern Tess had instructed her to ride at a collected trot. Fala made a sound of unhappiness, and guilt surged through Sierra as she realized she had transposed her anger at Tess into her treatment of Fala.

  “All right, let’s quit with that,” Tess allowed, after Sierra completed the figure. “Finish by letting her stretch on a twenty-meter circle.”

  Sierra let her breath out slowly as she released her hold on the reins. Fala snorted and tossed her head several times. She thrust her nose warily forward, as if anticipating a sudden jerk on her sensitive mouth. The mare trotted two circles before she tentatively dropped her head and neck forward and down.

  “Back to walk,” Tess ordered.

  Sierra obeyed and let the mare walk once around the circle before she brought her to the center and dismounted.

  “You have got to develop a sense that you are the master,” Tess insisted in the debriefing after the lesson. “You are not being cruel to expect obedience. Nothing you are doing hurts the horse. In fact, it is dangerous to give into a horse’s will for it is only natural they will take the advantage if you give it. Your horse must be obedient and submissive to your aids at all times. Once they learn, then you’ll find you do not have to ride with as much force. Do you understand?”

  “I think so,” Sierra replied.

  “You think so,” Tess retorted, sounding irritated. “Practice taking charge during your rides this week. I would like to see you more in control by your next lesson.”

  “I’ll try.”

  Tess turned away in dismissal.

  “Come on, Fala,” Sierra whispered and led the mare out of the arena and over to the crossties. As she removed the tack she watched Fala, how she stood with tense posture, her head up and eyes wide. Her coat glistened with sweat, not just underneath where the saddle had been, but her neck, chest, and flanks. It was like a slap when Sierra suddenly realized the mare looked just like Magic that first day she had come to the stable and watched Crystal taking a lesson.

  “You can relax now, the lesson’s over,” Sierra spoke in a soft, soothing voice. She offered a piece of carrot on the flat of her palm, but Fala would not lower her head to even sniff at the treat. A horse too tense to be interested in food is a really upset horse. Sierra felt guilty and sad that it was her poor riding that had resulted in the mare’s condition. She draped a cooler over the mare’s back, clipped the lead rope to the halter and led her outside to cool her out by walking up and down the lane.

  As the mare began to relax, lowering her head an
d eyeing clumps of grass, Sierra felt her own tenseness ebb. Absently stroking the mare on her neck, she sank deep into troubled thoughts.

  The lessons with Tess often ended very much like the lesson today with both horse and rider fraught with nerves, the horse drenched in sweat, and her own muscles aching. Doubts filled Sierra. None of her lessons with River had ever been so stressful. He made sure both she and her mount stayed relaxed and the goal had been for everyone to enjoy the session. Is that the difference between backyard riding and professional riding? Sierra wondered.

  She thought about the many books she had read on equitation. All the riding masters agreed that the horse needed to relax in order to perform correctly, and training sessions should be joyful for both horse and rider. Relaxation, in fact, was the second tier of the training pyramid that she often came across in the books. Perhaps that was an ideal seldom achieved in the reality of training to compete.

  “My last few lessons certainly have not been a joy for either of us, have they?” Sierra spoke out loud to Fala.

  But Tess was very successful in competitions and River didn’t compete at all. And Sierra yearned to compete.

  Since the beginning of the show season, boarders who had entered in competitions arrived with trailers to haul their horses to the show grounds. They emanated a contagious excitement as they groomed, braided, and then booted up their horses before loading them into the trailer. They returned at the end of the day proudly bearing ribbons if they had placed in their class, and full of stories of the event. How she longed to be a participant in that exciting world.

  She felt Fala’s chest between her legs to check for heat, as River had taught her. The mare’s temperature had cooled from very hot to normal warmth and her coat had transitioned from slickly wet to damp. Sierra decided to let the mare graze, to help atone for the stressful lesson. She led her to a grassy area in the back field and Fala eagerly pulled on the lead rope to grab mouthfuls of grass. When her head came up and Sierra offered her the chunk of carrot, Fala lipped it off of Sierra’s palm and snuffled at the girl’s pockets for more.