Willow King

by Chris Platt

  “Thank you, Mr. Ellis,” Katie said with a smile. “We would love to.”

  School was out once more, and another summer stretched lazily before her. This fall she would be a sophomore in high school—and Jason would be a junior. He had written her more letters. She kept them secreted away in the back of her closet. His last letter said that he would return sometime at the end of summer vacation.

  Katie filled her summer with picnics, working at the stable, and days at the lake with her mother and Jan. She spent as much time with King as she could. He was a year and a half old now. As the summer wore on, she started taking him to the back pasture to work with him. She knew that when Jason finally came home, this is where he would look for her. Besides, she liked to work with King away from the prying eyes of the trackmen from other Thoroughbred farms. She noticed how they drove by her house slowly when King was in the front paddock. Occasionally, one of them would stop and question her about the colt.

  Now that King’s legs were straight, Mr. Ellis didn’t mind people knowing that the horse was from Willow Run Farm, but he thought it best that people not know too much about the colt.

  “The less people know about him, the more surprised faces there are going to be when he walks away with his first race,” he said.

  It wouldn’t be long now before King would be taught to carry a rider. John liked to break the colts in the late fall before their second year. Nothing strenuous, since their bodies weren’t fully developed and the cartilage in their knees wasn’t yet closed. But they were broke to the saddle, and they learned the basics of steering and stopping. After a month of easy lessons, they were turned out to grow until late spring, when they would begin serious training for the races.

  Old John didn’t like running his two-year-olds early. Some trainers started racing them in the spring, but John managed to stall Mr. Ellis until fall, convincing him that it was in the horse’s best interest to do so. Running a colt too early caused leg injuries that would stay with him all of his life, and often shortened his racing career. If John had his own way, the old trainer would prefer to wait until they were three-year-olds before racing them.

  To make the process easier, Katie began getting King used to the saddle and bridle. John loaned her an old exercise saddle and a bridle with a rubber snaffle bit, which would be easier on a young horse’s mouth than plain steel. Each day she put the equipment on King and led him around the pasture.

  Since she couldn’t ride him yet, Katie had to teach King to respond to the bit from the ground. She tried hooking long ropes to the bit so she could drive him from behind like a plow horse. She had seen the other horsemen in her neighborhood do it. They made it look so easy, but every time she attempted it, King tried to turn around so he could see her, and he became hopelessly tangled in the ropes.

  It was easier for both of them if Katie stood at his shoulder with one arm reaching over his neck to hold the rein on the side. In this manner she could make him go right, left, and stop. He was a quick learner, and he wanted to please.

  One day in the late summer, Katie was longeing King in the back pasture when suddenly the colt came to an abrupt halt, his nostrils flaring as he snorted a warning. Katie knew there was only one person it could be. She turned her head and saw a streak of black and white racing toward them. She lifted her hand to her eyes, blocking out the sun’s blinding rays. Her heart pounded as she caught the red-gold glint of Jason’s head. He was home!

  What was she going to say to him? It had been over a year since she had seen him face-to-face. Jason brought his horse to a sliding stop, then leaned on the saddle horn and pushed the brim of his new cowboy hat up over his eyes. He winked at her, and she smiled. She had been worried that he might have changed, but except for the new hat, he seemed like the same old Jason.

  “Howdy, ma’am,” he said in a deep voice as he swiped the hat from his head.

  Katie stared at him. She knew her mouth was hanging open, but she couldn’t seem to shut it. He sounded just like John Wayne in one of those old westerns that her mother liked to watch. He couldn’t possibly have changed that much, could he?

  Suddenly, Jason burst out laughing and stepped down from his horse. “Had you fooled, didn’t I? You’re still so gullible, Katie,” he said, tying his horse to the post.

  “And you’re still an infuriating monster.” Katie picked up a pinecone and threw it, purposely missing him by a mile.

  “Looks like both of you have grown up.” Jason climbed over the fence and came to stand beside her.

  She could feel her cheeks burning pink, so she quickly turned her attention to King. “Isn’t he a beauty?”

  He looked at her for a second longer, then turned to the colt. “He’s a nice piece of hide.” Jason ran his hands over King’s well-muscled shoulder. “Has Ellis seen him yet?”

  “Yeah. He was here a couple of months ago. He wanted to know if I would trade King back for Jester.”

  “Are you kidding? You did say no, didn’t you? I mean, I know that Jester means a lot to you, but you’ve had faith in this colt when no one else did, and you’ve worked so hard.” At her nod he stood back to take a better look at the colt. “You know, I used to have my doubts when you’d tell me that this was the future winner of the big race, but now I think you just might have a shot at it. Do you still want some help breaking him?”

  Katie reached up to uncinch the saddle and remove the bit from King’s mouth. She slapped him on the rump and watched as he rushed off, bucking and kicking as he went. “You think you can stay with that?”

  Jason put his new hat back on his head and plucked a blade of grass to put between his teeth. “I learned a lot from those Oklahoma cowboys this past year. I think I can manage it.”

  Katie stepped up and extended her hand. “Welcome to Willow King’s training team. John and I are happy to have you aboard.”

  Eleven

  “Hold him, Katie,” Jason warned as King tried to jump out from under him. It was a crisp November morning, and his breath came out in wispy clouds when he spoke.

  Katie steadied the older pony horse, then took a firm grip on King’s lead shank.

  “Don’t let him buck,” Jason warned as he dismounted from King. “We don’t want him learning how to do that.”

  So far, King had been pretty easy to break. Jason was able to ride him at a walk, then a trot, and he always wanted a pony horse along for company. The older horse had a calming effect on the younger one. They needed all the help they could get. King was now approaching sixteen hands high. He was large for his age, and he was becoming quite a handful, but Jason was a skilled horseman.

  Now that they had come to the end of his thirty-day breaking period, Katie would finally get her chance to ride King. She had bugged Jason all month, insisting that since she had gone through all the trouble of raising the colt, she should at least get a chance to ride him!

  On the other hand, with the way King was acting this morning, she wasn’t sure it was such a good idea.

  Katie was nervous when she dismounted from the pony horse, put her foot in King’s stirrup, and climbed into the saddle. King must have sensed her emotions, because he shifted uneasily under her weight. “I don’t know, Jason. Are you sure I’m up to this? What if I make a mistake?”

  “Relax,” Jason said as he adjusted the stirrup irons for her. “You’re just going to take him for a walk around the ring. If he feels like he wants to take off or buck, pull his head into the fence and stop him.”

  Katie forced a brave face. She had been waiting for this day forever. She needed to remind herself that she was a good horsewoman. The only difference between riding him and Jester was that King was more unpredictable and had to be closely watched. Jester had bucked with her before and she hadn’t been unseated.

  She remembered a piece of advice one of the exercise riders at Willow Run had given her: Never fall asleep on a young horse. Stay alert and stay in control. She smiled at Jason and picked up the reins.

/>   King walked around the arena with her. He tossed his head when she held too tightly on to the reins, then tried to break into a trot when she gave him too much of his head. She finally found a happy medium, and King moved expertly under her touch.

  “I want to trot him,” Katie said.

  “Gather your reins tighter, then cluck to him,” Jason instructed. “Racehorses are taught to pull against the bit. Give his head a little bit of support.”

  Katie choked up on the reins, just enough to put a nice bow in King’s neck, and gently pressed his sides. The colt broke into a smooth trot. She marveled at the power she felt in his strides. He was going to be a champion, she just knew it. “Can I canter him?” she called out to Jason.

  “I don’t know, Katie,” Jason replied. “I haven’t done a lot of work with him on that yet. He still hasn’t really learned to balance a rider at a lope. He’s pretty clumsy.”

  “What do you mean, ‘clumsy’?” she said, keeping her eyes on the space between King’s ears. “He’s floating like a butterfly.” She ignored Jason’s warning and asked King for a canter. He responded by making a sudden lurch forward, which set her farther back in the saddle. King mistook the resettling of weight as a cue to slow down, and he abruptly tried to stop.

  Katie knew she was in trouble but was helpless to do anything about it. She saw the trees pass in a blur of green as she was vaulted over King’s shoulder, then she hit the ground with a bone jarring thud. When her vision cleared, she could see King standing in front of her with a look that said, What are you doing on the ground when you’re supposed to be on my back?

  Jason rushed to her side. “Are you all right?” he asked as he helped her to her feet and dusted her off.

  “My pride’s a little bent, but I think all my bones are intact.”

  “Looks like the Stooges are back in action again.”

  Katie gave him an angry look as she reached out to grab King’s dangling reins.

  “Come on, let me help you back up.” Jason readied the stirrup for her.

  “What do you mean, get back up? I’m a little sore and I’d like to go home and take a hot bath.” The truth was, her hip was throbbing so badly that it was taking all her will power not to grimace. But she didn’t want to admit that to Jason. She hated it when people acted like her handicap made her helpless. She couldn’t stand it if she saw that look in Jason’s eyes.

  “Oh, no, you don’t. You’re going to climb right back on this horse and make him do what you wanted him to do. Then, once you both get it right, you can take your bath. Even though King didn’t intend to dump you, if he gets away with it, he might learn that unseating his rider is a good way to get back to the barn quicker. You get on this horse and lope him around the ring a couple of times.”

  “But he’s not very good at it,” Katie protested. “You said so yourself.” She had never been afraid to ride before, but the spill had made her wary. “What if he does it again?”

  Jason put a hand on her shoulder, trying to calm her. “Katie, this is for both you and the horse. If you don’t get back on him now, you may never do it, and I know how important it is that you have an active part in King’s training. Just listen to what I tell you and you’ll be fine. Okay?”

  She remembered when she had given Cindy this speech after she had fallen off Jester. If Cindy could do it, so could she. “Okay,” she said, ignoring her pain and gripping the reins with trembling fingers. She mounted.

  “Now pick up his head and walk him in a small circle until you feel you’re in control. That’s it,” he encouraged her. “When you feel comfortable with that, make the circle bigger and ask him for a trot.”

  Katie did as she was told. She could feel King relaxing under her. The colt hadn’t dumped her out of meanness; she had given him confusing cues. She felt more confident in her abilities and picked up the pace a little.

  “Whenever you’re ready, collect him so he isn’t so strung out, then ask him for a canter.”

  She did as Jason suggested and smiled triumphantly when King broke into an awkward but rhythmic lope. She rode him in a few circles, then eased him back to a walk, coming to a halt before Jason. “That was fantastic!” she said as she slipped from the colt’s back and patted him on the neck. “What a rush!”

  “Well, I don’t think you two are ready for the Kentucky Derby, but I guess it’s a start,” Jason said. “Let’s call it a day. Another couple of training sessions and we can turn him out for the winter. Next spring is when the real training starts.”

  Homework and high school activities kept Katie busy for the remainder of the winter. Willow King was scheduled to be delivered to Willow Run Farm in early May to begin his training for the fall races.

  In late March when the weather warmed, Jason suggested they start doing some trail riding with King to get him legged up and give him a little experience before he went to the racetrack.

  Jason rode King several times in the ring to reinforce the lessons he had been taught in the fall. Then the horse was turned over to Katie.

  “You want me to ride him on the trails?” She felt excitement coursing through her veins but also some apprehension. She hadn’t forgotten her spill in the fall. “Do you think I’m good enough to be able to handle him?”

  “Of course you are. You’ve got really good hands, Katie, and you’ve got a good feel for the horse. That’s important. Plus, you’re a lot lighter than I am. These Thoroughbreds are a thousand pounds of horseflesh sitting on top of little toothpick legs. That’s why jockeys are so small; a big rider will break them down quicker.”

  There were a lot of good trails around the farms. They started out with King snubbed to the pony horse. Then when Katie was sure of herself and King, Jason undid the rope and they rode untethered beside his big Paint.

  King was a joy to ride, but Katie had to continually be on her guard. Once while she was talking to Jason, she let her attention wander and a rabbit popped out from the bushes, startling King. The big colt jumped from the trail and ran a short distance before she was able to get him under control. Her heart hammered in her throat, and her hands were unsteady for quite a while, but she thought back to the lesson she had learned while swimming King in Mr. Simon’s pool. She never went to sleep on the colt again.

  The last week before King was to be sent to Willow Run, Katie and Jason were returning from their ride when she suggested they gallop across a big field. She had cantered King on the trail, but it hadn’t been for very long, and she wanted to feel the pounding of his hooves and the wind in her hair one last time before she gave him over to John and another rider.

  “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea, Katie,” Jason said warily. “He’s never had a big space like this to gallop in. We’ve kept him sandwiched in behind my horse all the time. He’s starting to get fit, and he’s feeling good.”

  “Come on, Jason,” she begged. “Don’t be a stick-in-the-mud. I won’t let him go very fast.”

  She picked up a trot, then broke the colt into a slow canter. He had such a wonderfully long stride that he seemed to be eating the ground up beneath him.

  Jason pulled along beside her. “Slow him down, Katie. You’re going a little too fast.”

  She pulled back and King tossed his head, fighting for more rein. He was enjoying his run.

  “Pull up!” Jason yelled to her over the pounding of hooves.

  Katie stood in the stirrups for more leverage as she had seen the exercise riders do, but her stirrup irons were just too long. King took the bit in his teeth and bounded ahead of Jason’s horse. His ears were pinned back against his head and his neck was stretched out before him. The trees and bushes passed by in a blur and the cool spring wind stung her eyes, causing them to water.

  She could hear Jason hollering in the background, but she was powerless to do anything but hang on and pray for a safe ride. If they hit a squirrel hole, King would probably break a leg. She didn’t even want to think about that.

  They had
traveled about a half mile when she saw the fence looming ahead of them. She had to do something quickly, or they would crash right through it. Gathering her courage, she pulled at the bit in an easy, give-and-take motion. A solid tug had done no good. She remembered Jason telling her that racehorses were taught to run against the bit. “Easy, easy. Whoa, boy,” she crooned over and over in a soothing voice, though her heart was racing as wildly as King’s strides.

  She saw the colt’s ears flicker at the sound of her voice, and he began to respond to the pressure on his bit. The brain-numbing speed with which he had started his mad dash began to abate, and she felt she was regaining control. With only a hundred yards to go, King slowed to a manageable canter. Katie pulled him into a circle to the right, avoiding the four-board fence and bringing him to a halt.

  Jason reached her a moment later. “Are you nuts?” he screamed as he jumped from his horse and ran to her. “You could have been killed!”

  Katie slid from King’s back. Her legs were so weak that they failed to support her, and she crumpled to the ground. Jason reached down to help her stand, supporting her with his arm about her waist. “Did you see how fast we went?” she said excitedly.

  “How could I miss it? You left us in the dust.”

  Katie could tell Jason was irritated with her, but it didn’t dampen her spirits. “We were racing the wind and we won!” Her voice was still shaking and her heart pounded so loudly she could hear it reverberating in her ears. She was shaken—never had she been on an animal that had moved so swiftly—but she was also ecstatic. “He can do it, Jason. King can win the big race.”

  Jason shook his head. “You’re crazy, girl. You’ve just had a near brush with death, and all you can think about is a stupid horse race.”