Playing for Keeps

by Suzanne Weyn

  On Friday, Taylor didn’t press her hand brakes as she careened down the steep, winding hill leading to Wildwood Stables. Instead, she lifted from the seat and kept her speed up when she saw the street sign that read WILDWOOD LANE. She noticed that someone had pulled off all the vines that had once obscured the sign from view. Taylor had mixed feelings about that. She wanted to keep her special, magical place all to herself, but she knew it had to open to the public in order for it to survive — which meant people had to be able to find it.

  Taylor turned a sharp left at the sign and then careered past the overgrown forsythia bushes into the dirt road. The ruts and bumps caused her teeth to clack together as they slowed her down. The first thing she noticed as she rode into the ranch was that the chipped, faded sign that had once stood there — that was too weathered to even read — had been removed. She wondered if Mrs. LeFleur was planning to replace it.

  Daphne and Mrs. LeFleur stood in the center of the nearest corral. Mandy was there, though she was not tacked up for riding. With them were two women Taylor didn’t recognize. One was a heavyset blonde and the other was strong looking and wiry, with dark curly hair and dark skin.

  Curious to know what was happening, Taylor settled her bike against the tree and hopped over the corral fence. “Here’s our Taylor,” Mrs. LeFleur said warmly. She introduced Taylor and then explained that the blonde woman was Alice, the person with the autistic daughter whom Claire had told Taylor about. The other woman was Lois, the therapist.

  “I have a degree in psychology, but I’m still in the process of getting my certification in horse therapy at the state university,” Lois explained. “Alice is allowing me to use her daughter for my final certification presentation.” She held up a small video camera. “Would one of you be able to film my work with Dana?”

  “Dana is my seven-year-old,” Alice explained.

  “I was hoping you would do it, Taylor,” said Mrs. LeFleur.

  “Sure,” Taylor agreed, taking the camera from Lois. “Where’s Dana?”

  “She went into the stable to look at the other two horses,” Alice said. “I’ll go get her.”

  While Alice was gone, Lois explained to them that she wouldn’t try to get Dana up on Mandy right away. “I’m going to start with having her get used to the horse, then lead her and take her through the most basic commands. We find that children who have trouble focusing and staying on task are often so engaged by the beauty and size of a horse that they tend to stay interested longer than usual. Also, having mastery over such a large animal gives them tremendous self-esteem and confidence.”

  Mercedes came out of the main building holding a long stick with a loop at its end. “This is what you’re looking for, isn’t it?” she asked Lois, handing it to her.

  “Yes. This is called a wand, right?”

  “It is,” Daphne confirmed.

  Alice emerged from the main building with Dana, a pale, fragile-looking blonde. She reminded Taylor of a little yellow canary, delicate and ready to fly away at the first fright. Alice guided Dana into the corral and brought her to Mandy. “This is the horse you’re going to be working with, honey,” Alice said to her daughter.

  Dana’s eyes went wide and she scowled. The girl folded her arms and shook her head forcefully back and forth.

  “But she’s a nice horse, sweetie,” Alice pressed.

  “She’s very gentle,” Daphne put in.

  “Nooo!” Dana shouted, and then raced back to the main building, disappearing inside.

  “What should I do?” Alice asked, looking to Lois.

  Lois began walking toward the main building, after Dana. “Let me go try to see what the matter is. Give me about ten minutes and then come in.”

  * * *

  “Is it ten minutes yet?” Alice asked the group as they waited in the corral. Mrs. LeFleur checked her watch and nodded. But before Alice had a chance to move, Lois emerged from the main building and rejoined them.

  “Dana wants a different horse,” Lois said. “That black horse in the stable.”

  “That’s Prince Albert,” Taylor told Lois.

  “Well, for some reason, that’s the one she wants. Could we work with Prince Albert?”

  “Prince Albert is a one-gal horse,” Mrs. LeFleur explained. “Taylor is the only one he’ll let ride him.”

  “But you said Dana wasn’t going to ride today, right?” Taylor pointed out.

  “Yes, but eventually she will,” Lois said.

  “We’re working with him. Maybe by the time Dana is ready Prince Albert will be ready, too.” Taylor didn’t want this chance to show Mrs. LeFleur how useful Albert could be to slip away.

  Taylor cut her eyes to Daphne, looking for support, and Daphne got her message. “And Taylor is here, which should make Prince Albert comfortable. He’s really a very gentle horse,” she said.

  “Very gentle,” Taylor echoed.

  Without further discussion, they all moved toward the main building, which housed Prince Albert’s stable. They entered and walked down the shadowy central aisle — past the office, the tack room, and empty box stalls — to the back two stalls. “Look at that,” Mercedes murmured. “How sweet.”

  Dana was standing in front of Prince Albert’s stall. She rested her forehead on Prince Albert’s muzzle and stroked it gently while Pixie looked on from her stall.

  “Is he always so patient with children?” Lois asked.

  Taylor was tempted to say that he was amazing with kids, but she decided to stick with the truth. “We’ve never seen him interact with kids,” she admitted.

  “I wonder why she likes him better than Mandy,” Mercedes said. “Mandy is a good, steady horse, too.”

  “Maybe she sees something in his eyes,” Taylor suggested, speaking on impulse. The moment the words were out of her mouth, she knew she was right. There was something in the horse’s eyes that she also sensed. It was hard to describe. What was it? He’d known suffering. Was it sadness? No. That wasn’t really what Taylor sensed; at least it wasn’t only sadness. It was more than that. Perhaps it was sadness combined with a quiet strength and a strong spirit. And she saw kindness there in Prince Albert’s dark, soulful eyes, too. Taylor felt certain that these were the qualities that Dana was responding to.

  When they were close to Dana, the little girl turned her head toward them, resting her ear on Prince Albert’s muzzle. Taylor noticed that she didn’t look at any of them directly and remembered her mother saying that people with autism had difficulty with communicating. “This is a good horse,” Dana said. “He likes me.”

  “I’ll get a halter and lead line,” Taylor volunteered. She sprinted to the tack room, found what she needed, and quickly returned. Once the halter was on, she led Prince Albert out of his stall. “Would you like to get to know him better outside?” Taylor asked Dana.

  The little girl’s face became radiant with happy excitement. She nodded vigorously.

  “Can I give her the lead line?” Taylor checked with Lois.

  “Would you like to lead him out?” Lois asked Dana.

  Dana’s eyes grew large. “I could do that?”

  “Sure,” Taylor said. “I’ll walk beside you.” She handed the line to Dana and then clicked softly, signaling Prince Albert to move forward. “Walk on, Prince Albert,” Taylor commanded calmly. “We’re going outside.”

  From her stall, Pixie whinnied. “She doesn’t like Prince Albert to leave her behind,” Taylor explained to the group. “It makes her very nervous.”

  “She’s going to have to get over that,” Mercedes commented.

  “Let’s bring her along for now,” Mrs. LeFleur suggested. “Mercedes, would you attend to that, please? Join us in the corral once she’s haltered.”

  “Okay,” Mercedes agreed, heading for the tack room.

  Outside, Mrs. LeFleur held the corral gate open for Taylor and Dana to lead Prince Albert in. The rest of the group followed. “Let Dana lead Prince Albert around the ring by herself now,�
�� Lois instructed. “And, if you don’t mind, get the video recorder and film her doing it.”

  Taylor hesitated. If Prince Albert sidestepped or balked, she wanted to be right there to get him back on track. As if sensing her reluctance, Daphne moved in closer to take Taylor’s place near Prince Albert.

  “Dana will be fine,” Lois assured them with a smile. “You’re okay, aren’t you, Dana?”

  Dana’s rapturous smile was still firmly on her face as she nodded a definite yes.

  “Good,” said Lois. “When you’ve taken him a full circle around, bring him back to me.”

  Taylor had set the video camera down on the picnic bench outside the corral and she scrambled over the fence to get it. She was soon back and trailing Dana, filming her every move.

  As they went, Dana kept her head down and wouldn’t look at Taylor, even though Taylor kept giving her words of encouragement. When they had made it all the way around, Dana led Prince Albert to Lois.

  Lois showed Dana the wand Mercedes had brought out for her. “You’re going to use this to make the horse turn,” Lois told the girl. “It’s not to scare or hit Prince Albert; it’s only to guide him. All right?”

  “It sort of makes your arm longer,” Taylor explained.

  Dana still didn’t look at anyone, but Taylor noticed that the girl was gazing up at Prince Albert. It seemed to Taylor as though Dana was most comfortable in her own private world, yet for some reason, she had decided to allow this gentle, large black quarter horse into that world.

  In the next hour, Lois had Dana move Prince Albert in a circle holding the wand at his hindquarters as a guide. Mercedes and Daphne set up a simple obstacle course using items they found in the tack room and the storage shed behind the washhouse. With Prince Albert still on a lead line, Dana walked him through the course. All the while, Taylor filmed Dana and Prince Albert, and the rest watched the little girl and horse as they offered encouragement and praise.

  Taylor was so proud of her horse and happy to be filming him at his best. In the sunlight, framed by the camera, she was aware of how his ribs jutted out from his hungry days of abandonment and his coat still had no shine, probably because he was still recovering from malnourishment. Pixie had these problems, too.

  But Taylor had found them a good home where they were being properly fed and exercised. She vowed anew to make sure nothing interfered with this wonderful new life they now had. Nothing.

  Are the fruit cups out on the buffet?” Jennifer asked Taylor on Saturday morning. They were in the large, gleaming stainless-steel kitchen of Mrs. Ross’s mansion. Her sprawling home was tucked into a wooded glade at the back of Ross River Ranch.

  “I just put them out,” said Claire, coming into the room with an empty tray.

  “Don’t just stand there, Taylor,” Jennifer scolded mildly. “Put that silverware in the baskets and get them out there on the table.”

  “Okay,” Taylor murmured. She knew she was not being as helpful as she should be. But Taylor had never seen a place like this, and she felt awed by its grandeur — crystal chandeliers, golden fixtures, sky-high ceilings, glistening many-paned windows that rose three stories in places! It was more like a palace than a home.

  “Right now, Taylor,” Jennifer prompted. “Please stop daydreaming and snap to it.”

  “Sorry. Okay.” Taylor began unloading the utensils Jennifer had rented into three woven baskets, sorting the knives, forks, and spoons into their own baskets. When she was done, she carried them out the kitchen door and into a big, sunny room that had been set up with four large round tables. Taylor put the baskets down near the stack of white luncheon plates at the end of a long, rectangular table.

  Taylor stood there drinking in the grandness of the room. Unable to resist, she moved into its middle to experience the sensation of having so much space around her. She imagined how it must feel to be Devon Ross, the queen of all this, and a feeling of power suffused her. It was a little frightening but exciting, too.

  “Weren’t you riding Cody the other day?”

  Taylor swung around to face the tall, lean, dark-haired woman who had spoken to her. Devon Ross’s delicate, fine-boned face was neutral, neither welcoming nor angry. She was dressed in a brown pantsuit with an emerald green satin blouse. Her straight hair was pulled back severely into a twisted bun.

  Taylor opened her mouth to reply, but no sound came out. Her mind was still too busy dealing with the unlikely fact that she was actually standing face-to-face with Devon Ross.

  “That was you I saw on Cody, was it not?” Mrs. Ross queried once more.

  Taylor nodded. “Yes, that was me. I hope it was all right. My friend told me he needed to be ridden, for the exercise.”

  “Do you board here?” Mrs. Ross asked.

  “No, I was with my friend Daphne Chang. She boards here; well, she did until this month, anyway.”

  “Oh, yes, I heard something about that. She took Mandy over to the new horse ranch, the one that was closed for so many years.”

  “Wildwood Stables,” Taylor supplied.

  “Yes, that’s what it used to be called. I had my people bid on it to use as extra room, but something went wrong with the deal. I forget what.” She studied Taylor, looking her up and down. “What brings you here?”

  “I’m helping my mother. She’s in the kitchen.”

  “I see. How did you like Cody?”

  “He’s wonderful! I liked him a lot.”

  “You rode him well. Watching you out in the field reminded me of my daughter, Leslie. I originally bought Cody for her, but she’s a grown woman now and doesn’t get back to ride him very often.”

  “That’s too bad,” Taylor said.

  Mrs. Ross became thoughtful. “Yes, well, that’s what happens to little girls and boys; they grow up and develop their own ideas about things. It’s annoying, really.”

  Taylor had no idea how to respond, and she was relieved that her mother chose that very moment to come hurrying out of the kitchen door, searching the room.

  “Taylor, what in the world is taking —” Jennifer cut herself short when she saw Mrs. Ross.

  Mrs. Ross walked toward Jennifer. “It’s entirely my fault. I was engaging her in conversation.” Mrs. Ross and Jennifer returned to the kitchen together, going inside just as Claire was coming out with a tall coffee urn in her arms. “Taylor, help me figure out how to set this thing up,” she said. “I have no idea how to use it.”

  Taylor joined her at the table. “Neither do I,” she admitted.

  “Was that who I think it was?” Claire asked as she pulled the top off the urn and stared into it.

  Taylor nodded. “Uh-huh.”

  “What did her majesty have to say?” Claire asked. She glanced up at Taylor and smiled.

  “She’s not happy that her daughter grew up and moved away. She’s annoyed that she has ideas of her own.”

  “Oh, poor thing,” Claire joked, smiling wryly. “I guess all the money in the world can’t stop that from happening.”

  “Is this where the equestrian society luncheon is being held?” asked a petite blonde woman coming into the room.

  “It sure is. You’re the first guest to arrive, so welcome, and please have a seat,” Claire told her. From that moment on, Taylor was in a blur of activity — bringing out food, refilling dishes, pouring drinks, getting ice, collecting dirty dishes.

  As she went back and forth, Taylor listened to the guest speaker. She was the same petite blonde who had first come in, and she was from the American Horse Council. “When people encounter economic difficulties,” she said, “they sell their boats, their vacation homes, and get rid of their horses — only a boat doesn’t have feelings, and a horse does.”

  Taylor pictured Prince Albert’s liquid brown eyes, so full of emotion.

  “A tough economy requires horse owners to get smarter about how they spend. They have to cut back on shows, lessons, trailering, and other equipment,” the speaker said.

  Tayl
or made a mental note to tell Mrs. LeFleur what she was hearing. It seemed like it could be helpful.

  “More than ever before,” the speaker continued, “horses are being offered for adoption or dumped at auction. Many are being offered free lease by owners who cannot afford the upkeep, which in our state can range from three hundred fifty dollars a month for rough board to two thousand a month. The cost of an adequate supply of hay and grain to feed a thousand-pound horse is four hundred dollars a month.”

  Taylor set the plates she was holding down on a table and listened, mouth agape. She’d had no idea it was so expensive. Suddenly, she understood why her parents had been so against her keeping Prince Albert and Pixie. She also now realized why Mrs. LeFleur was so in favor of leasing Prince Albert.

  Claire came up next to Taylor. “Don’t let your mother see you standing there like that,” she cautioned. “We have to start bringing out desserts.”

  By three o’clock Mrs. Ross was saying good-bye to her guests, and Taylor remembered what she’d come hoping to speak to her about: Shafir.

  Did she have the nerve?

  Taylor waited for a moment when Mrs. Ross was alone and then, wiping her greasy hands on her black pants, she approached. “Everything went so well,” Mrs. Ross said when she noticed Taylor.

  “Thanks. My mom will be really happy you feel that way,” Taylor replied. “Mrs. Ross, there’s an Arabian here that Daphne told me you were thinking of selling.”

  “Shafir?”

  “Yes! That’s her. How much do you want for her?”

  “She’s not trained.”

  “I could help Daphne train her.”

  Mrs. Ross stared at her quizzically. “Is it you or Daphne who wants her?”

  “Both. Well, neither. Wildwood Stables is just starting up and needs horses. I was thinking maybe if Mrs. LeFleur who owns the place could —”

  “Mrs. LeFleur inherited the place, am I correct?”

  “Yes. If she could call you and —”

  “I could get twenty thousand dollars for that horse if she were trained,” Mrs. Ross said. “Untrained, she’s still worth ten thousand, maybe fifteen.”