“The pleasure is mine, Grace Carter,” Luke said warmly. “I hope you won’t think I’m rude, but I have to go finish fighting this fire, so…” He inclined his head towards the blaze beyond the arena. I waved him away with the air of a queen dismissing a subject and he flashed me one more devilish grin as he went.
I stood still for a minute, gazing unseeingly towards the fire as it reached up towards the dark night sky. Well how do you like that, I was thinking. You really never do know where you’ll meet a nice man.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
“I hate to say this, but it looks kind of like Colleen got her way.”
I glared at Kennedy. “Don’t you believe it,” I snapped. “Miss Colleen is about to have her ass handed to her.” I turned back to the blackened ruins of the scrub. “She can’t just come and burn down my woods because she got a little too spendy with her credit cards.”
There was a flurry of motion out in the smoking scrub, the sunlight glinting on yellow hard hats flashing brightly between the blackened stumps of pine trees and the burnt stubs of palmetto bushes. The arson investigators were out there, along with the forestry service, Fish and Wildlife, and who knew who else. When you set fire to my land, you had better be ready to face the consequences. I’d listed every endangered species I could think of when I’d made my police report, and claimed they all lived in happy profusion out there in the scrub. Most of them did; all of them might. My goal was to put as many boots on the ground as possible. Someone would find something that didn’t just implicate Roth and friends in the fire, but saved the land from future development — I was sure of it.
It would have been easier if I’d just put the damn land in a trust the way I’d always meant to, but I always was one for procrastinating.
Kennedy shifted beside me, kicking at a burnt pine-cone. It split into a million pieces and the seeds shifted onto the white sand at our feet. “Would you look at that,” she murmured.
“Fire-dependent ecosystem,” I said, parroting the Fish and Wildlife representative who had stopped by for a chat before plowing his four-wheel drive out onto the trail (which was now much easier to find, since the trees that had once sheltered it were reduced to ash and stumps). “The pine trees can’t seed until their pine cones are burned up. And the palmettos will be start growing back in no time. It’ll be scarred, but it’ll be pretty.”
“And the trail rides?”
I sighed, resigned to a delay in my plans. “It’s going to take a little while before people are going to pay me to go look at these woods.” All of my land’s charms had been sadly diminished: the shell mound reduced to nothing but a hill with smoking crisps of oak branches scattering its charred sands; the green prairie of palmettos left twisted and blackened; the smell of wood smoke hanging in the air like a fall day in a northern clime. At least the cypress had been spared. It was the getting there that no one would enjoy. A trail ride through an apocalypse — I’d be marketing to a very specific demographic to sell that, and the zombie fans weren’t really the element I wanted at my barn.
“So… what’s next?”
I heard Kennedy’s anxiety. She’d quit her job for this, after all. The ponies who would bring her a commission someday were still green as grass; the children’s lesson program was coming along, but slowly; the farm was still teetering on the edge of bankruptcy. The fire was pushing back the trail rides for at least six months. Was this the final shove, I heard her wondering? Were we both out of luck?
A gleam of light revealed a car on the driveway. The mailman was coming. I shrugged. “Maybe there’ll be a check for a million dollars in the mailman’s truck.”
Kennedy scowled, but I wasn’t up to taking her words seriously right now. What was next? Who the hell knew? All I knew was, if I’d held onto the farm this long, there had to be another way to keep it going. Another way to keep diversifying the business.
The mail truck stopped and Vic, the portly mail carrier who had been delivering here for a hundred years, more or less, stepped out. He rubbed his red forehead, brushing back his sparse white strands. “Got a certified letter for ya, Grace.”
I threw Kennedy a mocking smile. “What’d I tell you? Million dollars.” She managed to grin in response.
Vic handed over a legal-size envelope in exchange for my scrawled signature. I scanned the return address: some firm based in Boston. “You ever heard of these guys?”
Vic shrugged. “I never hearda nobody,” he said, climbing back into the truck. “I just delivers their mail.”
Fair enough. I slit the envelope’s seal right there in the parking lot. If it was some development company telling me they were after the land, too, I needed to find out about it some place away from the horses. Because I was going to scream.
I read the elegantly typed letter once, then again. I was starting in a third time, my lips silently forming the words, when Kennedy lost her patience. “What does it say?”
“It says someone wants to pay me to run a training center for developing riders,” I said, disbelievingly. “ ‘Adult and young riders who need special focus on certain skills in order to become competitive on an international level.’ ” I looked at Kennedy, the letter dropping to my side. “It’s not a million dollars, but it’s enough.”
“It’s enough?”
“To carry on.” I started to laugh. “To keep the farm. We’re not going anywhere.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
I waited until Kennedy was done with her riding lesson to break the news.
She put away the last saddle while Anna started hosing down the school horses, all of them in dire need of a full bath after an afternoon’s work in the heat. The covered arena wasn’t quite as cool now that we’d lost so many shade trees to the fire, although it was still a better option than riding under the blazing June sun. A few kids had been threatening to give up lessons for the summer, but Kennedy was very persuasive and had managed to keep all of them committed to their saddle-time despite the heat — for now.
Still, I was glad we weren’t depending completely on the kids to make ends meet. The summer rains were slowly starting to make their presence known, with rumblings in the afternoon and an occasional downpour. Once the blackened scrub was starting to sprout green again, and the smell of charred wood had been drowned once and for all, I’d call up all the hotels and let them know we were ready to start accepting clients. In the meantime, I was letting the trail horses do a little lesson-time. Sure, a spotty horse like Rainbow didn’t have the glossy well-bred look that my clients were accustomed to… but he was safe, and he was quiet, and little kids didn’t care about pedigrees. So the trail horses were sort-of, almost, earning their oats.
The commission from Bailey’s sale would come in handy, too, once it was finished. He was at a barn in Wellington on trial right now. I only saw Colleen when she dropped off her daughter for her riding lesson. I felt for Colleen. Sure, she was a bitch and she’d been trying to save her own ass by getting bulldozers onto my property, but giving up your horse was always a harsh punishment, no matter how terrible a person you were. She was showing rare strength of character (for her) in still financing her daughter’s riding, even though she’d had to put her own aspirations on hold once again.
She was also fortunate no one had yet managed to connect the arson in the woods to her or any of her friends, but I had my hopes.
So we were surviving, for now. None of it, though, not the boarding, not the lessons, not the commissions, would tip the farm back into the black with taxes through the roof, feed and bedding at astronomical highs, and show fees starting to frighten my most competitive students. The resources required to show A-circuit hunter/jumper horses was simply out of control.
Which was why this email was so interesting.
Kennedy came out of the tack room and tipped back a Diet Coke. She looked completely wiped out from yelling (mostly ignored) instructions at prep school kids for two hours straight. “Hey, Ken, check this out,” I called,
waving the print-out. She raised her eyebrows and came over.
“What’s this?”
I handed it over and watched her eyebrows shoot up to her frizzy hair. “An eventer?”
“Yeah… you ever heard of her? Apparently they want me to work on her dressage and show-jumping. She’s being sent here for three months… assuming she agrees.”
“For a sponsorship? She’ll agree or she’s crazy.” Kennedy skimmed the email again. “Jules Thornton… don’t know her. But I don’t know much about eventing.”
Anna paused in her horse-showers. “Jules Thornton? My cousin knows her. Total diva. Got in a huge public fight with her working student last summer. Everyone was talking about it.” She went back to hosing down Rainbow, who had closed his speckled eyelids in bliss.
Kennedy gave me a skeptical look. “Didn’t we just get rid of a diva?”
I shrugged. “This one’s going to be a working student,” I reminded her. “If she gets snotty with us, we’ll just give her more stalls to strip.”
Anna snorted, and the rest of us broke into laughter. It was hot, and we were tired, and there were miles to go before the day was over, but things were looking up. My first development project was on her way. Even if Miss Jules Thornton tried to play the diva with me, I was getting paid to take on a working student. That, my friend, was diversification.
I looked around my show barn, the farm I’d built for myself and the dreams I’d made concrete on the land my grandfather had left to me, and felt that profound sense of contentment which only comes at rare, wonderful moments in life. We all got the blues once in a while. All it took was a little kick in the pants, though to shake things up and change things up. We were on a new path now.
“Boss? You need to ride Donner now if you’re going to have time for Gayle’s lesson before we feed supper. He’s tacked and ready to go.”
I snapped myself out of my daydreams and made for the tack room to grab my hard hat. There were horses to ride, a hint of rain in the air, and a thousand things to be thankful for. I’d count them over while I was trotting around the arena.
After all, things always looked better from the back of a good horse.
About the Author
Natalie Keller Reinert grew up with horses: first riding hunters, then discovering her true love, eventing, with a green off-track Thoroughbred named Amarillo. But never one to turn down an experience, she has also started and galloped racehorses, groomed for Olympians, rode on mounted patrol in NYC, and so much more. Today, Reinert lives in Florida with her family, where she spends most of her time writing.
For more information and to keep up with new projects, visit NatalieKReinert.com. You can also follow Reinert on Twitter at @nataliekreinert and on Facebook at facebook.com/NatalieKellerReinert.
Keep reading with Natalie Keller Reinert’s equestrian fiction and historical romance novels.
The Alex and Alexander Series:
The Head and Not The Heart
Alex’s life looks pretty wonderful to the casual observer. She’s in a committed relationship with a master racehorse trainer. Surrounded by hundreds of horses in the green hills of Ocala, Florida, it’s a dream life for any equestrian. But suddenly she’s tired of hitting the ground when a flighty racehorse decides to spook, tired of fending off biting and kicking foals, tired of 2 AM calls for veterinary emergencies. Alex is starting to wonder if she’s made the right choices in life. When their racing stable suffers a loss, she and Alexander slowly begin to fall apart. A chance find of a long-lost horse sends Alex alone to New York City, and she wonders if this is the sign she’s been waiting for. Is it time to leave it all behind and start fresh?
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Other People’s Horses
Semi-finalist for the Dr. Tony Ryan Book Award.
Six horses and Saratoga. It’s a young trainer’s dream come true, and it’s happening for Alex at last: Alexander is entrusting the farm’s racing string to her while he heads Down Under to help run his sick brother’s farm. But Saratoga isn’t interested in Alex without Alexander. Unproven and decidedly female in a man’s world, Alex finds herself the target of old-school racetrackers certain she married her way into training good horses. At the same time, her naïve assistant, Kerri, is far too interested in the less-than-scrupulous trainer who shares their barn. But running a racing stable doesn’t leave much time for petty fights and stable rivalries. Horses need to be worked, races need to be run. And Alex has her eye on something besides the winner’s circle: a funny-faced filly, a chestnut nobody with a spotty blaze and a decided lack of brakes. Saratoga thinks the filly has a screw loose. Alex knows better.
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Claiming Christmas
All Alex wants for Christmas is a little peace and quiet. After all the drama of her summer in Saratoga, she’s been taking it easy around the farm, enjoying the horses (and baiting Alexander). But a phone call from a local charity changes all that. When Alex meets Wendy, a young girl with a tragic past, she finds herself going to surprising lengths to brighten Wendy’s life — and visiting some surprising places. A filly named Christmas, a horse-crazy kid, and a trainer who never thought much about holidays or children — Claiming Christmas celebrates the bond between horse and human, and between a trainer and student.
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Turning For Home
Every racehorse must one day retire from the track, and for Tiger, that day has arrived. Alex isn’t ready for Tiger’s racing days to end, but planning his next career is quickly becoming the least of her problems. An animal rights group is accusing her of involvement in a horse-abuse scandal, and with death threats arriving daily, Alexander fears for her safety. Suddenly Tiger’s not the only one heading back to the farm — Alex is stuck at home, too, with strict orders to stay away from the racetrack. Both horse and rider would rather be racing than hacking around the farm. A Thoroughbred makeover event seems like the perfect distraction, but as the activists ramp up their protests, Alex realizes she’s competing for more than just a blue ribbon. She’s fighting for her own reputation. This horse show could make — or break — her future in horse racing.
The Eventing Series
Ambition
Jules is positive she’s poised to become eventing’s newest star, but soon finds she’s making more enemies than friends in the close-knit equestrian community of Ocala, Florida. Little mistakes cost big — her students are losing faith in her, her owners are starting to pull their horses. And then there’s the small matter of Peter Morrison, the handsome, on-the-rise event rider who keeps showing up when she least expects him.
Jules is convinced that all she needs to succeed is good horses — not friends, not romance, not anyone’s nose in her business. But it’s just the beginning of the long, hot, Ocala summer, and as Jules tumbles through the highs and lows of a life with horses, she might find she’ll need help after all to weather the coming storm.
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Short Stories:
Horse-Famous: Stories
Three short stories by literary writer Natalie Keller Reinert, exploring the culture of horse racing and English riding. Includes Expendable: “A well-executed short. Natalie Reinert displays a rare knack for providing a ton of insider’s info with grit, yet at an effortless pace.”
“Horse-Famous” delves into the obsessive, traditional culture of British horsemanship.
“The Long Walk” follows a young woman just trying to make a living in the horse business, and shows how long the walk from the broodmare barn to the breeding shed can really be. This short is a fascinating insider’s glimpse of the breeding farm, where the creation of Thoroughbred racehorses is an industry with its own strange rules and characters.
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Heroines on Horseback Historical Romances:
Miss Spencer Rides Astride
Amidst horses, hunting, and the allure of the Iris
h countryside, Miss Spencer Rides Astride is the rollicking story of two misfits trying to make their own way, fighting the fates with everything they’ve got, and perhaps, just by accident, falling in love.
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The Genuine Lady
Chased from England by scandal, Lady Charlotte Beacham is starting a new life for herself and her son on the windswept prairies of the Dakota Territory. Sick of gossip, Cherry vows to keep separate from the society of the little railroad town near her homestead. But Bradshaw folks are neighborly, and she soon finds herself part of town life — and hopelessly fascinated by her infuriating neighbor, a cowboy who simply will not mind his own business.
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The Honorable Nobody
Disappointed in love and in friendship, Miss Lydia Dean wants nothing more than to retreat from Society. Unfortunately, her fortune-hunting mama is determined to see Lydia in the center of every ballroom, flirting her way to the Match of the Season. And when Lydia suddenly finds herself head-over-heels in love, it is with a most unsuitable suitor: the horse-mad Peregrin Fawkes. Never mind that Lydia is terrified of horses…
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