by Ann Hunter
"Good morning," Cade said cheerily.
Alex pretended to ignore him. For some reason, she suddenly had a deep loathing for all things male. She plopped down in a dining chair, folding her arms across the tabletop, and buried her face in them.
The sound of a plate scraping toward her made her peek. A piece of toast with freshly melted butter offered itself. Hillary smiled over her shoulder from across the kitchen, but Alex groaned and hid her face.
Laura softly sang her favorite pop tune and poured herself a bowl of cereal, before sitting next to Alex.
"What are you plans today?" Hillary asked while putting clean pans away from the drying rack. "Anything fun?"
"I'm going to head over to Alison's and work on our science project," Laura answered. "We want to get it done so we don’t have to worry about it over break. Might drive up to Murray with her mom and go shopping afterward, if that's okay?"
"As long as you call me," Hillary said.
Alex wobbled when Laura nudged her. "You want to come, Al?"
Alex wrinkled her nose and grunted.
"That's nice of you to offer," Hillary praised. "But I don't think Alex would enjoy sitting there while you do your homework."
"I dunno about that. Alison and I are trying to prove how the velocity of a racehorse differs from dirt, to turf, to synthetic. I think Alex would really enjoy that."
It got quiet for a minute, and Alex was sure everyone's eyes were boring into her. She shook her head. Her voice was muffled when she spoke. "I got plans with Brooke." She rested her cheek on her elbow, and blinked at Laura. "And I loathe shopping. Like, with a special Grinch-like loathing."
Laura paused, mid-chew. Her eyes widened as though Alex spoke sacrilege. Like she couldn't believe someone didn't enjoy a good mall crawl. She shook her head and started chewing her cereal again. "I didn't think you knew who the Grinch was."
Alex buried her face in her arms again. "Christmas. Prison. Don't wanna talk about it."
Laura's spoon clattered against the bowl. Her chair scraped against the hardwood floor as she kicked back from the table. Alex listened to her dump her bowl in the sink and kiss her mother. "I gotta go. Alison's expecting me at ten."
Cade slurped his coffee from the corner. "Have fun."
"Love you," Hillary added.
When the door open and shut, Alex realized she was alone with her new guardians. Her inner crankiness crept up. She blew out a breath and rose. "I'm gonna go see Pro before I hang with Brooke."
She gave them a cursory salute, but chewed her lip when she noticed Hillary's concerned expression. She had to get out of there before questions arose about her impending demise. "I'll be around."
Cade smiled as though everything was all well and good. "Stay out of trouble."
Alex backed toward the door, avoiding Hillary's studying gaze. "It's a horse farm. What trouble could I possibly get into?"
BLOOD AND GUTS
Grooms and maintenance workers bustled about the yearling barn, sweeping up debris from mahogany stalls. Alex shoved her hands into her back jean pockets, calmed by the smell of salt, sweet grain, and fresh bedding. She stared at the floor, smooth red bricks interlaced in a herringbone pattern, as she ambled down the aisle.
One of the workers sprayed down the aisle where another worker had finished sweeping. They worked in tandem, almost back-to-back. Alex thought it was kind of funny. It felt like someone was rolling out a red carpet.
She paused half-way down the long aisle in front of a stall with a polished brass nameplate etched with the name Promenade on it. Like the other stalls, it too was vacant.
Alex sighed and wished she hadn't slept in. Seeing Promenade always lifted her spirits. When she first arrived in October, he had only been a weanling, newly separated from his mother. Alex thought he was an orphan at first, like she was, when she saw him all alone in a stall that seemed too big for him.
Promenade hadn't judged her or been frightened by her. In fact, fear didn't seem to be in his nature. The other young horses tended to be skittish, but Promenade often treated visitors with an odd disdain, as though they were not worthy to stand in his presence.
He was probably out in the paddock for the day with the other youngsters. Brooke had explained that the yearlings would be spending more and more time outside. Not only enjoying the sunlight, but learning to fend for themselves and develop a certain level of competitiveness with one another.
"You just missed him."
Alex turned to see Brooke.
"Led him down to the paddock myself. Ready for that lesson?"
The pain that plagued Alex earlier jabbed once more, reminding her of her impending doom. But then she thought about the chance to finally get on a horse.
No. No, it’s fine. Really. I’ll die later.
She rubbed her palms together and nodded, too excited now to pay attention to her pain, cuz horses. "Let's do it."
Brooke led her to another barn further back from all the others. Alex hadn't really thought to explore this part of the farm before. Though more secluded, the barn was every bit as nice as the others, with the same bricks herringboned down the aisle and mahogany stalls.
Brooke filled her in. "This is the Boarding Barn. People from around the area sometimes keep their horses here. It's a bit of residual income for the farm. Some of the horses belong to North Oak, others to boarders." She quickly grabbed a halter and lead shank from the tack room and continued down the aisle.
"We're going to put you up on Approved today." Brooke slid the halter over her shoulder and pushed open the stall door to a deep-chested, leggy liver chestnut. She started putting his halter on. "He's a gelding."
"Gelding?"
"So there's colts and stallions who still have their manly parts, and geldings are the eunuchs of the horse world. They've, uh, had a certain surgery."
Alex's face scrunched.
Brooke laughed as she led Approved into the aisle. “Some males are too hot headed. They’re not suitable for breeding. So…” She made a slicing noise and scissored her fingers through the air. “No mas cojones. It usually mellows them out.”
Brooke clipped a set of cross ties to Approved's halter and gave him a pat, then looked at Alex. "I need to grab his grooming kit and tack. I'll leave you two alone for a minute to get acquainted."
Alex watched her go, then looked at the horse. She moved to his front so he could see her. He arched his neck and gave her a sniff, his breaths soft and warm against her t-shirt. Alex couldn't stop the smile that invaded her face. She caressed his nose, speaking softly. "Hey, dumb horse."
He dipped his head to snuff her pockets.
"Sorry, no treats," she told him.
He looked at her straight on, his dark eyes so deep Alex wished she could swim in them. She smiled again. "Sucks to be you."
Brooke returned with the items, tossing Alex a curry comb. "After a few lessons I expect you to saddle up on your own, but I'll help you today."
Grooming was still new to Alex, having only had a week or two experience before being arrested. Bits of dust, loose hair, and bedding flicked off the gelding’s coat as Alex circled his hide with the curry comb in her hand. There was something cathartic about getting all the dirt off of a horse, like it could somehow scrub the grime from her heart.
Approved twitched beneath her hand, dropping his head into a relaxed position. Brooke picked up the gelding's feet and dug the packed horse gunk out with a hoof pick while Alex finished curry combing. She looked at Brooke expectantly when she finished, and Brooke tossed her a different brush. "Do it with kind of a flick motion."
Alex went over the gelding again, flicking her wrist with each stroke of the brush. Approved's coat started to shine. Brooke worked on the other side, brushing his back and haunches.
At last, Brooke grabbed the saddle and saddle pad and seated it near the horse's shoulder so that it rested just in front of the hollow of his back, explaining about lining it up with the withers, and knowing when you've got it right.
She came around to Alex's side, reached under the horse for the girth, and showed her how to cinch it up.
As she secured her helmet, Alex thought the saddle looked a lot like the ones they used for morning workouts on North Oak's racehorses, but heavier.
"English," Brooke said regarding the saddle. "You'll learn to balance better without anything to hang on to." She moved to Approved's head, easing the bit into his mouth, and secured the bridle. Once he was unclipped from the cross ties, Brooke returned to Alex’s side and handed her the reins.
Without a word, Brooke headed off ahead of them. Before Alex could follow, Approved dragged her down the aisle. Alex had to hop a few steps to catch up. She braced her heel against the ground, trying to slow him down. Holy Hell, he’s strong.
"He knows you're new," Brooke called over her shoulder. "Don't let him be the boss of you."
"How do I do that?" Alex hauled back on the reins, but it did nothing more than turn the horse’s head her way. He blinked at her and continued to power forward.
"Keep a tight hold of him, stay close to his shoulder. Don't let him drag you."
“Yeah, right.” Alex was sure she smelled rubber burning off of her chucks as Approved simply chomped at the bit in his mouth and continued to drag her. She shortened the length of rein in her hand so that he had to stay closer to her, and she to him.
He finally fell into step beside her with a snort. Alex breathed in relief. They followed Brooke into an indoor arena with many mirrors down the long sides of the building, mounted high on the wall and tilted toward the dusty ground. She looked scraggly in them, so out of place.
Brooke stood in the center of the arena and took Approved's reins from Alex. "We're going to mount up. Pull that stirrup closest to you, on the left side. I'll get the right one."
Brooke reached for the one on the horse's right and gave it a yank, then returned to Alex. "Now get your foot in the stirrup, grab the front and back of the saddle, bounce a bit until you get some air under you, and pull yourself up."
Alex jammed her toe into the stirrup and tried to do what Brooke said, but just as she was half-way up, the saddle slipped, and Alex awkwardly hung sideways. She looked helplessly at Brooke who only laughed.
"I'd hoped he hadn't been holding his breath. Hang on." She helped Alex back down, fixed the saddle, and tightened the girth, then led Approved around a few minutes, checked the girth again, and led him back to her.
Alex tried again, grunting with effort, but still couldn't get up.
"We'll work on getting your legs strong enough. It takes some practice. Here." She gave the reins back to Alex and pulled a blocky set of tall stairs over to horse and rider. "This is a mounting block. Your height's working against you."
Brooke playfully stood back and framed Alex between her hands like a miniature T.V. screen. "You're, like, jockey sized."
Alex ascended the block with a gnawing sense of embarrassment. But when she got her foot in the stirrup, she put those feelings in the shabby internal box, and shoved them away.
"Much better, huh?" Brooke said. "Now swing over, and sit gently."
Alex listened to the gelding chomp his teeth against the bit. He started walking away from the block as soon as Alex swung her leg over. She shortened her reins in her fist enough to stop him.
Brooke came over and showed her how to thread the reins between her ring and pinky fingers, then up past her thumb and to close her hands around them as though holding a small bird. "Firmly. No, not death grip. Soft. Yeah, like that. Kind of like dealing with a big kid."
Alex grimaced. "Only this one weighs half a ton and can kill you."
Brooke grinned. "That too." She stepped back, picking up the mounting block. "Now squeeze your legs against the saddle and give him a cluck."
Alex did so and popped her tongue. The sound echoed through the arena. Approved moved forward so eagerly that Alex was thrust back in the saddle, wavering. The gelding side jogged and shook his head while Alex righted herself.
"Good," Brooke called. "Now I want you to drop your heels like you're trying to rake the ground."
Alex pushed her heels down, concentrating on the way the horse swayed beneath her, taking it all in. It wasn't as easy as it looked when she watched the workout riders in the morning at the training track.
Brooke stood in the center of the arena. "Sit up straight. Push your butt deep into the saddle. Imagine there's a wire from the top of your head down through your heels. Your job is to keep that wire straight."
Alex closed her eyes, trying to imagine it, but Brooke was quick to scold her.
"Eyes open. You go where your eyes go. If you look down, you'll end up there. Keep your eyes up and alert."
Alex exhaled, trying to relax. She listened to the rhythm of Approved’s hooves trudging through the dirt and his steady breathing.
"Now you're too loose. Back straight, eyes forward, draaaaaag those heels."
Approved snorted, echoing Alex’s annoyance. He into a quick jog as Alex tried to do what Brooke said. Alex sucked in a breath, tensing.
"Pull back. Tell him 'whoa'."
Alex scrambled with the reins, but Approved only fought her. Frustrated, she kicked her heels against him.
An odd sensation of floating through time for a split second met with the ground rushing up toward her. Alex stared at the beams of the ceiling from her backside, wondering what just happened. A thin veil of dust puffed up around her, and she caught the silver flash of horseshoes cantering to the other side of the arena.
Brooke seemed to take her sweet time getting to her. She offered her hand. "You alright?"
Alex laid there, wincing as her pain from that morning layered with the new soreness setting in. "I suck at this."
Brooke crouched, resting her arms on her knees. She smiled encouragingly. "Nah, you're a natural. He's just being a butthead. It happens."
"I think I'll just lay here and die."
Brooke's smile turned to an ironic smirk. "That's not really an option. You think this sucked? Wait til it happens at forty miles an hour on a racer. Cuz that's always fun. You fall off a horse, you get back on. As we say on the track, jockey up. It means put your big girl breeches on and deal with it."
Alex took a deep breath. She didn’t want to deal with it.
“Come on,” Brooke said encouragingly. “That horse won't catch himself. Get up and finish."
Alex got to her feet on her own, glaring at Approved. He stood at the far end of the arena with the reins slung over one ear and half of his face. He raised his head, blinking at her with an expression so smug, Alex swore he would say, Hey dumb kid, sucks to be you.
"I have to get back on?" Alex asked gingerly, hugging one arm.
Approved tossed his head, wiggling his lips to try to catch the reins in his mouth.
Brooke nodded. "It'll be fine. Come on."
Though it seemed like an invitation to injury, Alex boxed up her nerves. Brooke helped her back up, and Alex tried not to be angry with the dumb horse.
"Remember: horses are our partners, not our servants. We don't tell them what to do, we ask. It's a partnership. Choosing to get back on every time you fall takes guts. And you've got 'em."
"Your words are inspiring," Alex said flatly.
Brooke caught on to her sarcasm. "Hey, people should pay me for this information."
Alex gathered up the reins and got ready to move forward again. "Go?"
Brooke stepped back. "Fate favors the fearless."
Alex dragged herself into the Showmans’ home, past Hillary who was enjoying a mid-morning coffee at the kitchen table while browsing on her tablet. Alex collapsed in her bed upstairs, remembering she was going to die. For real this time.
She wasn't sure how she felt about riding. She hadn't been expecting to get thrown on her first lesson. Who gets thrown on their first lesson? This girl, Alex groaned.
She curled up into a ball, wrapping her arms around her middle, wishing the tired aches would go away. She sc
runched her face when a soft knock fell on her open door.
"You doing okay?" Hillary asked. "I've noticed you don't seem yourself today."
Alex turned her face toward her pillow and mumbled, "I'm pretty sure I'm dying."
Hillary sat on the edge of her bed. "What's wrong?"
Alex curled up tighter.
"Your stomach?"
"No."
"Ribs?"
"No."
"Spleen?"
Alex raised her head. "I wouldn't know where that is even if I had one."
"Gallbladder?"
Alex growled. "Why are you being so nosy?"
"My mom senses are tingling."
Alex leaned her face into her pillow again and let out another grunt.
"Wait. Is a certain lady friend visiting?" Hillary asked.
Alex leaned back slightly and squinted at her. "What?"
"Aunt Flow. Your monthly visitor. The curse?"
"What the hell are you talking about?"
Hillary’s eyes widened. "Don't tell me you don't know about periods. How is that even possible?"
Alex turned away from her, curling into an even tighter ball.
Hillary rose. “I just… I can’t believe this. No one’s told you about periods? I mean… no one?”
“Leave me alone.”
“You’re not as street smart as you let on, are you.”
"I'm not an idiot, lady."
Hillary sank to the edge of Alex’s bed again. "Alex, where do babies come from?"
Alex muttered under her breath, "They come from the hospital."
"Oh, my land." Hillary rose again, hands on hips. “I can’t even tell if you’re being serious or not.”
"Does it matter? I want to die in peace."
"Yeah, no." Hillary grasped her elbow. "Get up. Take a hot shower. There's some lady pads under the sink. Look at the pictures, you'll figure it out. If not, holler for me. Put your unmentionables in the laundry. I'll take care of them."
Alex rolled her eyes. “Who the hell even says unmentionables anymore?” She grabbed clean clothes and headed off to the shower.
Although the steam was a welcomed balm for her soreness, all she heard was a clock ticking in the back of her mind. Five minutes. Only five minutes.