The Boy Who Loves Horses (Pegasus Equestrian Center Series)

by Diana Vincent

  After returning Morris to his stall, Sierra met River leading Crystal’s latest horse, Galaxy, in from one of the paddocks. “What’s up with Crystal?” she asked.

  River shrugged, his face dark with displeasure.

  At the crossties a man waited, his arms loaded with various pieces of horse shipping equipment. Crystal stood in the stable doorway talking on her cell phone, her two friends flanking her. An unfamiliar truck and horse trailer waited in the stable yard, the name of a stable with its logo printed on both truck and trailer.

  “Yeah, they sent some idiot who can’t even speak English.” They overheard Crystal complain into her phone. “We ended up having to drive to the stupid barn to show him the way…I know…I know… we’ll be there soon….don’t order onions on the pizza.”

  As he led Galaxy into the crosstie bay, River spoke to the man in Spanish.

  Relief flooded over the man’s face as he responded to River’s greeting in an animated explanation. River nodded in understanding. He picked up a brush from a grooming box and gave Galaxy a quick brush over his coat as the man dropped his armload and picked out a halter.

  “What’s going on?” Sierra asked, stepping up to stroke Galaxy’s neck.

  “This is one of the stable hands that works for Galaxy’s new owner. He was given directions to Crystal’s house rather than here.”

  “Galaxy’s leaving?” Sierra said, surprised. She knew Crystal had immediately put him up for sale when he disappointed her at the championship, but didn’t realize he had already sold.

  “Yeah.” River finished with the brush, picked out Galaxy’s feet, and then helped the man change the halter, put on shipping boots and a stable sheet.

  “I’m glad I get to say goodbye to you,” Sierra murmured to the lovely black and white paint horse, stroking his nose. “I’ll miss you.” And that was true. Galaxy was a sweet-natured but un-ambitious, lazy-tempered horse. River believed he had been pushed too hard in competitions at too early an age, and was soured on work. Where some horses would become nervous or stressed, Galaxy’s temperament responded in loss of spirit. But Sierra, who was often assigned to trail ride him, enjoyed his placid nature. When she was in a mood to just ride out without having to concentrate on her horse’s manners, he was the perfect mount.

  River led Galaxy from the crossties and past Crystal, still talking on her phone.

  “At least you didn’t kill this one,” River said without looking at Crystal but loud enough to be sure she heard.

  “Shut up,” Crystal retorted, glaring with murderous hatred at River. “Not you,” she snarled into the phone.

  Her friends giggled until Crystal’s murderous look shifted to them.

  Sierra watched the scene with detached amusement, putting the pieces together. Crystal’s friends were dressed in outfits almost identical to that which Crystal wore; and very much like an outfit Sierra recalled seeing on a contestant in a recent star search television episode. It was Friday night and the girls were obviously on their way to a party. Sitting behind the wheel of a car parked next to the truck and trailer, Sierra recognized Kate’s older brother. Kate had not been a part of Crystal’s crowd last year. But having an older brother, a junior with his driver’s license, and one willing to hang out with freshmen girls and drive them around, had given Kate her entrance into the elite group.

  Gloria was busy texting with frantic speed on her own phone. She boarded her horse, Silver Knight, at Pegasus, but hadn’t even looked around for him. Sierra could not imagine coming to the stable and not at least checking on one’s own horse.

  River led Galaxy around in a circle while the stable hand opened up the trailer doors and dropped the ramp. Sierra came up to him one last time to give him a piece of carrot from her pocket and one last pat on the neck. “I hope you’re going to a good home.”

  “Me too,” River echoed. He led Galaxy into the trailer and hooked the trailer tie to his halter. “Buena suerte, hombre.” He gave him a goodbye pat and then stepped out to help the stable hand close up the ramp and latch the doors.

  “Let’s go,” Crystal spoke to her friends, having finished her conversation and leading the way to the car. She never once glanced over at Galaxy.

  “Hey, River,” Kate called out. “Want to come to a party?” She laughed as Crystal punched her shoulder. The girls piled into the car and the driver immediately backed out and away. The truck pulling the horse trailer followed at a much slower speed.

  Sierra watched them disappear out the driveway, wondering again why Crystal rode at all. She had owned three horses in the year that Sierra had worked at Pegasus, and had not shown any attachment or the slightest affection for any of them. Magic, the horse she had owned prior to Galaxy, had been seriously injured at a competition. Crystal had ordered him euthanized, rather than giving him a chance with surgery and a long recovery.

  River had loved Magic and Sierra believed he still mourned his loss and harbored a deep resentment against Crystal and even Tess.

  Manuel, the stable manager, emerged from the lane between rows of paddocks, whistling a tune in his usual cheerful manner as he led two horses into the stable.

  “Time to bring horses in,” River said, and he and Sierra joined Manuel in the evening chores.

  *****

  2 Cobbler, Dumplings, and Basil

  Moderation of the aids: the legs will never be used strongly and the reins only used for the shortest possible duration. - Jean-Claude Racinet, Another Horsemanship, A Manual of Riding in the French Classical Tradition

  *****

  Sierra and River crossed behind a large farmhouse to an intersecting driveway that led to a small cottage where Sierra and her mother Pam lived. Charlie, a lively Border Collie, jumped up from where he had been snoozing under a cherry tree, and ran up to greet them with a welcoming bark. He had belonged to João, and Sierra and Pam had adopted him. Storm burst forth between the kids to meet the collie nose to nose, both their tails wagging. Then the two ran off together on important dog business. They were old friends.

  “Something smells good,” River said as they entered the back door and into the kitchen through the utility room.

  “It does, doesn’t it?” Sierra agreed. “And it doesn’t smell like my chicken stew.”

  “Hi River,” Pam greeted from in front of the sink as the kids stepped into the kitchen. “It’s good to see you; I’ve missed you here.” Sierra went over to her mother’s open arms and they hugged hello.

  “Thank you,” River responded. “It’s nice to see you too.” He added, “It smells really good in here.”

  Pam smiled at him warmly. “It’s the cobbler…for your birthday, Kitten,” she said to Sierra as she smoothed some of the light brown straggles of hair that had escaped Sierra’s braids and kissed the top of her head. “Since I didn’t get a chance to bake a cake for your birthday, I thought this might atone a little for that.”

  “Mom, you know I didn’t even want you to bake me a cake,” Sierra assured her, hugging her again. “Cobbler is much better.”

  “It’s your birthday?” River asked.

  “It was two weeks ago but I wasn’t in the mood to celebrate. It was right after the memorial service.”

  “Oh…how old are you now?”

  “Fourteen.”

  “Can you believe that?” Pam asked, laughing and holding Sierra by the shoulders.

  “No.” He shook his head. “I can’t.”

  “Stop it,” Sierra complained. She had always been small for her age and probably looked two years younger, but she didn’t need to be reminded of that. “When’s your birthday?” she asked River.

  “January.”

  “What day in January?” Sierra persisted. Getting information from River often involved bit-by-bit extraction.

  “Thirty-first.”

  “And that’s when you turn sixteen?”

  “Umhm; I’m going to wash my hands.” He turned and walked away to the bathroom.

  “So much fo
r that conversation,” Sierra said as she moved to the sink to wash her own hands. Last summer, River had told her he planned to quit school when he turned sixteen. João had left him money in a college fund so she hoped that might change River’s mind and he would stick it out in school.

  “Hmm,” Pam mused. “Well, I’m done with my part. The timer’s on for the cobbler. Can you take it out of the oven when it goes off?”

  “Sure.”

  Pam left the kitchen as River returned. “What do you want me to do?” he asked.

  “Can you start a salad?”

  “Okay.” River pulled down the salad bowl from the cupboard and then opened the refrigerator to pick out vegetables. He had started helping Sierra after the second invitation to dinner, and always helped clean up afterwards. One thing for sure about River, he didn’t shirk doing any kind of chores.

  After washing her hands, Sierra pulled the bowl of dumpling batter from the refrigerator. She had mixed the dumplings up right after school, along with getting the chicken stew simmering in a crock pot.

  “How does that work?” River asked curiously, watching Sierra remove the lid from the crock pot and spoon in clumps of batter.

  “It’s like biscuit batter,” Sierra explained. “Only they get steamed in the crock pot rather than baked in the oven.”

  He came closer and watched over her shoulder. They both ogled the clumps of dough as Sierra plopped spoonfuls into the simmering broth. She grinned over her shoulder at River and he smiled back. “That’s it,” she said, spooning in the last bit of batter and settling the lid back on top.

  “Cool,” River commented and then stepped away to resume making the salad.

  Sierra carried the empty batter bowl to the sink and glanced back to ask a question. “Riv…” She stopped in shock.

  River was pulling his sweatshirt over his head and it had pulled his tee-shirt part way up exposing his bare midriff; and a large, yellowing bruise that spread from his side to his back. “What?” He slung his sweatshirt over the back of a chair and looking over at Sierra, frowned at the startled look on her face.

  “What happened?” she gasped out.

  “What do you mean?”

  Sierra’s eyes dropped to his side and he reflexively put his hand over his bruise but dropped it quickly.

  “I fell.” He stepped over to the counter where the vegetables waited, turning away from her.

  “Off a horse?” River never fell off.

  “Yeah,” he lied. If he had answered immediately Sierra might have believed him, but he hesitated long enough that she knew it wasn’t the truth.

  “You never fall off!”

  “Everybody falls off once in awhile.”

  “How did it happen? When did it happen?”

  “It was just a stupid accident, okay?” He looked up from the salad bowl, where he was tearing lettuce somewhat violently, and glared at her with his ‘I don’t want to talk about it’ look.

  “Okay.” Sierra finished washing the bowl. “I was going to ask if you want some fresh basil for the salad.”

  “Yes, I’ll go get some.” River tossed the last lettuce leaf into the bowl and without looking at her, went outside to Pam’s herb garden. Sierra hoped a few minutes by himself would refresh his mood. She picked up a cucumber and began to peel it for the salad.

  River returned about ten minutes later with a handful of fresh basil which he kept bringing up to his nose to sniff.

  “I can smell it from here,” Sierra commented. Nothing like the smell of fresh basil to mellow one’s attitude.

  “Your mom sure knows how to grow stuff,” he said as he rinsed the basil and patted it dry, still sniffing a leaf every once in awhile.

  “Yeah, she always has.” The timer went off and Sierra pulled the cobbler out of the oven. The two kids finished the salad together, set the table, and called Pam.

  The stew and dumplings turned out excellent. River ate three bowlfuls plus two helpings of cobbler. It always amazed Sierra how much he could eat and remain so skinny.

  “I didn’t get you anything for your birthday,” River said, scraping up the remains of cobbler in his bowl.

  “There’s one thing you could give me,” Sierra responded in a hopeful tone.

  “What?”

  “Could you give me riding lessons again?”

  “Sure, no problem.” He smiled in a way that Sierra believed he meant it.

  “Great!” She jumped up and gave him a hug; it just seemed the right thing to do.

  *****

  River left after helping clean up the supper dishes, and Sierra and her mother settled onto the sofa in the living room; both with homework.

  “River seemed in a good mood tonight,” Pam commented, flipping through pages of her textbook.

  Sierra snuggled into the sofa cushions, folding her legs up. Socrates, her scruffy black cat, curled up in the hollow created by her bent legs, purring. Charlie snored; sound asleep on the rug in front of the sofa. “Yeah, I think he’s doing better. We even talked a little about João today.”

  “Good, that’s a good sign. You should have seen his face when you hugged him. He liked it.”

  “Oh yeah?” Sierra smiled at the thought.

  “Be careful with him,” Pam said in a gentle tone. “He doesn’t need any more hurt. Don’t give him the impression that you feel things you might not actually feel for him.”

  “Mom, what are you talking about? We’re friends; friends hug friends.”

  “Yes, sometimes. I don’t imagine River has very many friends that hug him.”

  “You don’t think I should hug him?”

  “Do you think he feels only friendship for you?”

  “Well, I think we’ve become much closer since João died…maybe more like brother and sister.”

  Pam smiled at her daughter. “Maybe,” she said.

  “Mom?” Sierra asked hesitantly.

  “Yes, Kitten?”

  “I think his father beat him again. I accidentally got a look at a huge bruise on his side today. He didn’t like it when I asked what happened.”

  Pam’s face clouded in concern. “I wonder if we should report it.”

  “No, I know he would get mad. And I don’t know for sure how it happened.”

  “What did he tell you?”

  “I asked if he had fallen off a horse and he said yes, but I don’t believe it.”

  “Maybe I’ll talk to my pediatrics nursing instructor and get her advice.”

  “Mom, don’t do anything, please.”

  “Honey, I’ll talk to you before I do anything. I just worry about him getting seriously hurt.”

  Sierra’s cell phone rang and her heart sped up as she recognized the caller. “Hello,” she answered, trying to sound calm.

  “Sierra, hi,” greeted the friendly voice of her friend, Luke Abrams. Sierra’s crush on Luke began a year ago when they were both in eighth grade. He had always been friendly to her, and had been especially sympathetic since hearing about the death of João. It had been quite a pleasant surprise when he had asked her to the homecoming dance coming up in two weeks. And ever since inviting her, he sought her out at school and called her a few times a week.

  “Hi,” she answered, feeling tongue-tied as usual.

  “Guess what; we won our game this afternoon.”

  “Awesome! Congratulations,” she responded enthusiastically, knowing how proud he was to have made the junior varsity football team.

  “Are you done with your homework?” he asked. Pam had a rule that Sierra couldn’t talk on the phone for more than ten minutes unless all her homework was finished, and Luke knew the rules.

  “Not quite.”

  “I won’t keep you. Some of the guys are going to Justin’s house for a victory party and I guess I’m going. I just wanted to tell you that we won.”

  “That is so cool, Luke. Well, have fun at the party. Think of me sitting here doing homework.”

  “Hey, do you want to come? I coul
d probably find someone to pick you up later on when you’re done with your homework.”

  “No, that’s okay. I’m pretty tired and I need to get up early to clean stalls tomorrow. But thanks.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah, really.” Sierra didn’t want to explain that first of all, her mother wouldn’t allow her to ride in a car unless an adult drove, and secondly, wouldn’t let her go to a party unless the parents were home and would probably embarrass her by insisting on talking to the parents. But the biggest reason was that she did not want to go to a party at Justin’s house. Justin was Crystal’s boyfriend, and she guessed this was probably the party Crystal and her friends had been dressed up to attend. “But I do appreciate the offer,” she lied.

  “Okay, guess I’ll talk to you on Monday.”

  “See you then, and congratulations on winning. Did you get to play?”

  “Yeah, every quarter.”

  “Great! Tell me about it on Monday.”

  They said goodbye and hung up.

  *****

  3 Rogue Horse

  When the knowledge of riding comes to an end, abuse begins. - Lt. Col. A. L. d’Endrödy, Give Your Horse A Chance

  *****

  Sunday morning, with the horses fed and turned out into either the pasture or paddocks for the day, Sierra and River worked together mucking out the stalls, and then filled each with fresh shavings. All they had left to do was sweep up and then they had the rest of the day to ride.

  A car pulled into the stable yard; Sierra assumed one of the boarders arriving to ride. It was another beautiful fall day with patchy clouds and a slight breeze. It had showered last night, leaving everything crisp and clean-smelling.

  “River,” Tess Holmes called out sharply as she appeared in the aisle and walked toward them. “Where is your phone?”

  River looked up, frowning. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a cell phone as Tess came up to him.

  She scowled as she took the phone from his hand, turned it on, and handed it back. “I didn’t get this for you to leave in your pocket turned off. I want to be able to get in touch with you when I need to,” she reprimanded.