“If she pulls a little more today, Elliott, don’t yank too hard on the reins,” he said. “She has not had time to adjust to the chain, so be especially careful. If for some reason she really hates this bit, we’ll put this one back on. I’ll keep it in my pocket just in case.”
“Oh – so you’ll switch it out at a gallop or while she’s trying to toss me,” I said. “That I’d like to see! I think we should stick to the snaffle.”
“She’ll be fine,” Ben said.
I was not so sure. I thought she was just fine yesterday. And I don’t yank on the reins. I kept these thoughts to myself.
We reached the fixture in plenty of time to groom the last bits of spooge from our horses’ feet and polish their coats. Ben somehow always looked perfect; whereas, all mud within a hundred yards clung to me. So far, I was clean, but riding behind Ben and Blazer would destroy that soon, I was sure.
For me, yesterday’s intimidating formality was replaced by sizzling anticipation. Hounds were keyed up – today’s pack was the fast pack. I had learned the night before that they used this pack when all staff was “on” and they did not have to contend with so many guests. I was hoping not to be a hindrance, and was again glad to have Ben as my pilot – regardless of what it did to my face. Waterproof mascara was added to my list of hunting effects.
“Good to see you two, today,” Janice said as she passed by us on the way to the hound trailer. “Come over and see the hounds if you like.”
I couldn’t resist that invitation.
“I’ll be right back, Ben,” I said. “We have plenty of time, don’t we?”
“Five minutes – then come back,” he smiled.
The hounds wistfully pointed their long noses through the trailer’s sides as they eagerly sniffed my hands. Wonderful, sloppy, hound kisses made me putty in their paws. Their long, mournful faces were so full of expression, and I could hardly wait to see them in action.
As I looked around, I saw that most people were getting on their horses, so I made my way back to mine.
“Here you go,” Ben said as he handed me Viva’s reins. “Need a leg up?” he leered.
“You just keep your hands to yourself, sir,” I smiled. “I think I can manage.”
“I love foxhunting,” he said as I made sure to put Viva’s body between us so he couldn’t ogle. It’s difficult for ladies to gracefully mount tall horses, regardless of their agility.
I did not think it was possible, but today’s hunt was even more exhilarating than Saturday’s. Of course I would not admit it to Ben, but Viva was definitely easier to contain in her new bit. However, she wanted to explode every time the hounds struck a line. Ben and Blazer were, thankfully, an impenetrable wall.
The footing was solid but slippery in places as we slipped and splashed after the pack. I still had no idea where I was, but it felt like our gallops were longer and straighter than those on Saturday. Viva was settling into her pace and not as frantic. We dodged limbs, climbed gullies, and this time, jumped logs that had fallen into the road. Today’s fixture had no coops, so Ben and I accepted the field master’s generous invitation to ride in first flight – right behind the huntsmen. I would appreciate later that this hunt really knew how to hook beginners.
Yesterday, the featured hounds were the Woodland Hounds. Today, it was the Memphis pack’s turn. These hounds were pure Penn-Marydel and all looked like they stepped out of an English oil painting. Their long legs, ears, and noses were stately and elegant.
Our field master, Eilene Watson, was also the Master of Foxhounds. She rode a lanky gray and for that and her ready smile, I was thankful. Today’s attire was ratcatcher, so I did not have the luxury of just avoiding red coats. Staff was not easily distinguishable from the field. The Master’s horse was unmistakable, and I knew that regardless of what happened, I was not to pass her. Viva’s enthusiasm had me worried, but not panicked. Ben kept us well behind Ms. Eilene and out of trouble…for the moment.
A check, brief pause, then off again. The masses of horses pressed tightly through the thickly wooded trails this time, so spacing was difficult. As soon as we broke into the open, Ben moved to the side keeping us out of the melee.
As we turned across the field, however, I felt Viva falter. In an instant, her neck disappeared, and my outstretched body was approaching the bright green winter wheat in slow motion. Suddenly, we were down. Viva’s foot struck next to my right hand. Then she somehow rolled over me and was gone. I felt nothing – must be the adrenaline. Everything was working – I think.
In a flash, I jumped up and watched her gallop away with the field. Ben’s look of horror vanished when he saw me standing alone. He convinced Blazer to retrace his steps through the chaos and waved others to go on with the chase.
“What happened, are you all right?” he asked with just the hint of a grin working the edges of his mouth.
“Yes, I’m fine – what in the world is Viva doing?” I was more hurt that she left me than that I had hit the ground.
“No way was she stopping with all that going on!” Ben laughed now that he knew I wasn’t hurt. “Come on, get up, and we’ll find the others, if you can stay on with all that mud all over you. We’ve got to get a picture of this! You’re plastered in mud, have branches in your hair, and scratches all over your face.” He was laughing uproariously now, and I was not amused. He reached for his iPhone and I glared at him.
“Whatever!” I barked as Ben swung me up on Blazer’s broad backside. I wrapped my arms tightly around him being sure to get as much filth possible on his perfect clothes, saddle, and horse. If he’s enjoying this, his spotless clothes and saddle will have to pay.
We turned the corner just in time to see Viva dashing across the wide-open field. I hope she trips...again. How will we ever catch her? Boy, though, is she magnificent!
Then…they were with her – him/them again – stygian horse and rider closing in – flying along the fields as if in an accelerated ballet – a high performance dance in slow motion. He reached out and gathered her gently and effortlessly like this was rehearsed. Once they were beside her, she calmed. He flipped the reins over her head and led her back to us.
“Thought you might be needing your mare,” he said to me in a low, and very pleasant voice as he handed Viva to Ben.
“Thank you…?” Ben said expectantly. I was still clinging to Ben and trying to breathe….
“Griffen. Griffen Case,” he said.
“Thanks, Griffen. Much more practical to follow the hounds one rider per horse,” Ben said with his good-natured smile.
“Are you all right?” Griffen said, his green eyes meeting mine. An electric shock would have been less of a jolt compared to what his look was doing to my…everything. How could one person exude such presence? How is he causing so much…turmoil within me? Must be the damsel in distress syndrome – ridiculous – and watching him on that horse. Oh my.
“Oh, yes. Thanks,” I said as casually as I could muster trying to remember to breathe and forget that this was the third time he’d seen me in a less-than-advantageous pose.
With that same smirk he turned and disappeared from wherever he had materialized. I was beginning to think he was just mist. Or maybe smog. His untimely appearances and mysterious disappearances were not endearing him to me. My heart, though, kept leaping into my throat. Infuriating!
Back at the hunt cabin Mother was scandalized at the state of her Harold’s tweed, and my appearance. The food was everything Daddy had hoped, and he feasted with Ben and the others. He and Ben wandered behind the cabin where they amused themselves learning about the hound tracker. This device was helping the huntsman determine which hounds were out and where they could likely be found.
Outside, there was a commotion near the trailers. I ran to the porch and to my horror, saw Viva struggling in her hay net. I had thoughtlessly tied her too loose, and she had planted her foot through the net trapping her head and throwing her into a panic.
Before I cou
ld react, Griffen was beside her – calming her – steadying her and drawing his knife. With one quick slice, she was free. She immediately took advantage of this by grabbing a mouthful of grass. He gently tightened the lead and secured her properly.
In that same instant, I had flown to her side to check her legs. Satisfied there were no injuries, I stood. When I straightened, he was so close I could feel his warmth and smell the sun and something else, just him maybe, on his tweed jacket.
He looked down and I met his gaze – green eyes sparkling with amusement again – and I glanced down to hide my impending blush. Why did I not even bother to get the mud off my face!
He was most decidedly in the space. Jolts of electricity radiated from him and he was oh, so, very very close. I had never been in the presence of such…well, Grand would call it, danger. I felt threatened, but not like that. I just wanted to stay here – beside him – oh my. I waited for him to step back, but he stood. Time stopped, and I could feel the blood rushing to my head, tingles running down the back of my neck, my heart thumping to the crunch, crunch, crunch of Viva satisfying her appetite.
“Lovely mare,” he said, his deep, silky voice captivating and so… so close.
I had to look up. My chin rose on its own as I looked up and tried to calm my heart. Think of something else. I just stared at him. No words would come out. Say something! I blinked, and for a very brief moment, my head cleared.
“I’m afraid we have not been properly introduced,” he said stepping back just enough…just enough for what I did not know. Oh, breathe. His stepping away helped…some.
“I’m Griffen Case,” he nodded.
Move. Blink. Think.
He was looking at me with those piercing eyes. Where they laughing at me…still?
“Yes, of course…I mean…thank you, Griffen…again,” I said as I recovered and extended my hand – Grand would be scandalized, no, she’d understand. “I’m Elliott Marks.”
He removed his glove and took my hand into a perfect, and very man-to-woman handshake. His expression softened as he released me.
“A pleasure to meet you, Elliott,” he said as he tipped his fedora.
Did he really just do that?
And then he was gone.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Chapter 8 - Opening Meet
We move as one. Through trees up hills over coops, she finds the way; I watch for game. The chase. We are a team, yet we are more than two when we are together. And there is nothing that satisfies me like spending the day with her and our hounds.
November again. It had been one year since the Woodland Hunt’s magical Opening Meet. Same place, different location.
I had long since gone off to college with Viva thanks to my dear Daddy and in to Janice’s world of hunting and studying and not that much more. My circle was different, much much more suited to me. I was elated with all in my life.
Mother and Daddy were with my sisters at The Game (Mississippi State University v. Ole Miss), but I was again at Opening Meet. This time, it was outside of Memphis, Tennessee with the Big River Hounds. The Woodland Hunt in Mississippi was faring well, and I visited it on the rare occasions I went home. So far, that had only been twice since August.
With a recommendation from the Woodland Hunt’s master, my enthusiasm, and Viva’s exceptional hunting abilities, I was quickly accepted as a student member and honored to serve as amateur (unpaid) whipper-in for Big River.
This morning, I had already put tracking collars on the hounds and had finished helping William and the other staff with hound arrangements. Since my studies had me swamped, I had not been involved in setting up the festivities. Lydia Wright, one of the other whippers-in, had already reminded me that I had not contributed my share and had loaded on plenty more for me to handle today. Between the sorority pecking order and this, would these women ever leave me alone?
The other whippers-in for Big River were friendly, even welcoming. I was certain they were glad to have help, and I loved anything to do with hounds. We had a pretty regular bunch, so the workload each weekend was not too stressful. We hunted only on Saturdays, with the exception of course, of this weekend and a few other Saturday/Sunday back-to-backs when we either traveled to other hunts or hosted them here. Stephen Smith, Susan Waters, Bo Whittington, and Bob Allen were not only excellent riders but also knew the country well and all the hounds by name and voice. I was still working on the hounds’ voices, but I knew all of them by name.
Lydia, however, was another story. She, too, knew her hounds and the country, but no matter what I did, she did not like me. She was a successful real estate agent and a drop-dead gorgeous leggy blonde. She moved like a cheetah and for some reason, I was her gazelle. I did what I could to stay out of her way and could not possibly understand what threat I posed to someone like her.
Viva and I were to cover the north side, which meant to make sure the hounds did not leave the boundaries of the hunt, were turned safely away from roads, and were on correct game. Correct game was fox, of course, coyote, which was more likely, and bobcat, my personal favorite. No one had seen wolves for decades, but sightings of panthers were becoming more common in areas not too far from this fixture, or hunt location.
The game was the chase – to see how long and how hard we could ride until the quarry either got away, most common, climbed a tree, occasionally, went to ground, more often, or climbed into a safe spot – barn, culvert, and some occasions, an abandoned car or a landowner’s azaleas. Never was the day the same.
Today the stakes were high, for me. Many of the regular whippers-in had to serve double-duty as field-masters or ride with guests. Opening Meet, I had learned since last year, was a pain. It was a fund-raiser, sure, but rarely was it a good hunting day. Last year, I was so dazed with the sport it did not matter. Not much had changed, for me, and I was just glad to be here. Nevertheless, I hoped I did not make any mistakes.
I wandered over to the tents mostly to see the spectacle rather than eat. Food never was appetizing to me before the hunt, too many butterflies.
Like the previous year’s pageant, this spread was over-the-top. Separate tents contained silent auction items, photo displays of past hunts, an art auction tent, and food food food everywhere.
Today’s host home was a grand old stone mansion overlooking a lake. The giant lawn was perfect for the Blessing, and the owners had pulled out all the stops for the occasion. Flowers exploded from boxes and beds. All we needed was a little misty rain and it would have looked and felt just like England.
“Over here, Elliott,” Ashley said.
“You did a fabulous job with the art tent and the music,” I said. “That is a nice touch.”
“Thanks,” she said. “Have you seen Ben? He was just here.”
“No, but he may have gone to check his horse and make sure he’s still braided,” I said.
“He’s got one of the barn girls handling that for him,” Ashley said. “Are you coming to the party tonight?”
“I plan to,” I said. “You?”
“Of course! You know I don’t miss a party,” she smiled.
“Leslie wants to come with me, so I’ll see you there. She wants to meet these cute foxhunters we keep talking about,” I smiled.
“I think Christopher is coming up tonight to hunt tomorrow with us. Maybe they can go together. She’d probably like him. Why don’t you set that up? She better stay away from Ben or I’ll smack her,” Ashley said.
“Christopher and Leslie sound like a good possibility. Don’t worry about Ben, you know you’ve got him wrapped, silly. I don’t know why you bother to voice such a threat,” I smiled at her.
“Yeah, whatever,” she said, eyes narrowing. “I’m not as sure about that as you, yet. I’d feel better if you’d find something more interesting to you than your horse and those hounds…as long as it’s not Ben.”
“Stop sounding like my mother,” I said, getting up to leave.
I had not told her about Griffen an
d she never suspected. Why would she? Why would anyone? It was a moment, a few all too brief moments, a year ago. I had felt him like I’d never felt anyone, but he probably had that effect on all girls. I’m sure that is why Janice Black had been able to fill me in so well about him last year. No matter. I had long since put him out of my mind.
But…my reaction to him was never far from my mind and of all the great guys I had met in college, none had moved me like that. No comparison. Mother assured me that was normal. But was it? Was I just holding out for something purely physical? That would be entirely too shallow.
I had met no guys that held any interest to me – physically, mentally – nothing. If anyone could have, it should have been and probably should be Ben. Ashley knew it, too. She could feel it. That’s why she wanted me attached. She’s a good friend, but she’s still Ashley.
Ben had sensed that I was a hopeless cause and had not pursued anything else in our direction, but I never gave him much incentive to try, either. Ashley liked to give me details on what a great kisser he was. Even though I knew why he never worked really hard any more to get my attention, my pride was somewhat hurt that he stopped trying.
Christopher finally backed off from Ashley when Ben stepped in and we dated a little, but no sparks there, either. I could not get the image of him slouching on a horse out of my mind. And all through these fun months of parties at Ole Miss – lots of dates – great guys – but no fireworks. Viva still held more interest for me than they did.
“Radio check, Elliott?” William said, and I was thankfully snapped back from my musings about boys, or the lack thereof, for me.
“10-4, sir,” I affirmed.
“Let’s get these hounds out and head over to the blessing,” he said.
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