by Rhavensfyre
“I’ve changed my mind. I’m going to take Galileo home,” Ro said. That announcement got everyone’s attention. Maeve and Shyann both stopped in their tracks, leaving the room in a silent tableau for a full second before both women broke out into pleased grins.
“Are you sure?” Maeve asked. She wasn’t doubting Rohanna. Her eyes shown with pride and she gave her a big hug before stepping back and wiping the corner of her eyes.
“Yes.”
“Well, if that’s the case, I’ll head out and get the truck and trailer ready,” Shyann said.
Rohanna turned towards Shyann, her eyes flashing with newfound confidence. “No, don’t bother. I’ll ride Galileo home.”
“Are you sure?” Shyann asked, repeating Maeve’s question.
“Don’t task her, Shyann,” Maeve cautioned her, then gave Ro a curious look. “What changed your mind?”
“I...I’m not sure. All I know is that the farm will be mine soon. I’ve spent all this time in college learning how to run it, and I’ve spent a good bit of time establishing myself as a competitive rider. I’ve spent all this time preparing. It would be stupid to go home and do nothing to improve the farm. The MacLeod family has always been on top, in the ring and with breeding. I can make sure we stay there. With Galileo, I can keep showing and winning, which means the farm’s name stays on top.” Rohanna stopped trying to explain something she was still trying to process herself.
Maeve hummed her approval. Her smile widened, deepening the subtle creases around her eyes. “I’m proud of you, Rohanna. It’s a solid plan. It gets you out there, on the road and under the eyes of those who need to see you—who need to see who you are and what you can do.” And away from the one who doesn’t need to be watching you every second of the day.
Rohanna blushed at the accolades, then made a quick exit with the excuse of needing to get dressed for her ride home.
Once Rohanna was out of the room, Shyann leaned against the kitchen counter and crossed her arms in front of her, narrowing her eyes at Maeve suspiciously.
“And what was that all about, then? I thought we weren’t allowed to interfere, nor give her a hint of what was to come?”
“Hmm. I didn’t say anything but the truth, and she made the decision on her own, didn’t she?”
“Did she? She sure seemed to grow a backbone all of a sudden. It wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with that pendant, would it?”
Maeve’s face remade itself into an expression of complete innocence before she answered. “I have no idea, Shyann. The stone was meant to protect her, but I had nothing to do with its gifting. That, as they like to say, is way above my pay grade.”
Maeve turned and looked down the hallway, making sure it was empty before continuing. “You know as well as I that Bellaria has had too much influence on the child. Perhaps this is the Fates way of ensuring she has free will to decide for herself what is to happen next.”
“I still think it has been ill done.”
“True, but how else will she gain the strength to do what needs to be done? Bellaria has found nothing but frustration at every turn, failing at every attempt to make Ro do her bidding. Yet with every attempt, she is teaching Rohanna, whether she knows it or not. Her arrogance will be her undoing.”
“You hope,” Shyann added, doubtful of Maeve’s confidence.
“I hope.” Maeve left it at that.
“Do you think I should suggest taking her and Galileo home with the truck, rather than try the old trails? The last we checked, the way was blocked,” Shyann asked.
“No, let her ride. It will give her time to think,” Maeve answered. “Besides, I have a feeling the way will be clear for her now.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Rohanna was enjoying the quiet of the road. The wide grey strip of highway stretching out in front of her was comfortably familiar. She had travelled down it many times before on her way to various horse shows. The road’s familiarity allowed her mind to wander. She could go on auto-drive, eating up the miles at a steady pace and putting distance between her and her stepmother’s constant ability to find fault in her life.
Rohanna frowned.
The irritating woman kept straying into her thoughts, forcing her good mood to evaporate as quickly as the miles behind her. Their earlier conversation stubbornly replayed in her head despite her best intentions to leave it behind.
“Look Belinda, I really have to get on the road now. Is this really necessary?” Ro couldn’t believe that she had let her stepmother get to her again. Belinda's voice was creating a painful throb in her head, threatening a migraine that Ro couldn’t afford on a show weekend.
“I can’t believe you are taking him again instead of one of the more important horses.” Belinda’s words emphasized “him” in an aggravated hiss, narrowing her eyes at Rohanna’s favorite mount.
“It doesn't matter what horse I ride, it’s still a horse from our farm and one that I have trained,” Ro shot back, angrily tossing a couple of square bales onto the trailer.
“But why does it always have to be him?” Belinda asked, pointing at Galileo accusingly. Her voice trailed off into a whine that still managed to sound dangerous, like the buzz of an irritated wasp. Belinda was trying to manipulate her, to make it seem like she was being the unreasonable one. That trick used to work when she was younger when Rohanna would cave in to her stepmother’s wishes in order to keep the peace. It rarely worked anymore. Since Rohanna returned from college, the two women had clashed on a regular basis. It was only when Rohanna was on the road, showing Galileo or performing at the expos, that she had any peace at all.
A wicked grin split Rohanna’s face. That Galileo was the only animal on the farm that Belinda had no claim to was a constant thorn in her side, especially since Rohanna continued to show on him almost exclusively. With each show, Belinda would rehash the same old argument—Rohanna’s time would be better spent promoting their own stock and bloodlines, etcetera, etcetera—and it was that very argument that ensured Ro did exactly the opposite.
In Rohanna’s talented hands, their horses would increase in value when they were shown and brought home ribbons. While impressive in themselves, you couldn’t ride papers and good bloodlines didn’t ensure the horse was going to be a winner, they needed to be well trained as well. Belinda’s logic was solid. Rich buyers didn’t want to buy prospects. They wanted proven show winners for their aspiring adolescent daughters and sons, something they would have to wait for until the MacLeod farm was back in Rohanna’s hands.
Rohanna’s stepmother grudgingly admitted that Ro had a talent for training and riding, but she would never admit that she needed her abilities to get their horses’ sale ready. Rohanna used this knowledge to her advantage, pushing her own agenda as often as possible to keep Belinda from over-extending their stock by overbreeding. Prospects were going to stay prospects until Ro said they were ready to show and sell. That kept the best stock right where they belonged, on the MacLeod farm—at least until it was signed over to her.
As far as Rohanna was concerned, she was not going to expend her efforts to line Belinda’s pockets, not with her twenty-fifth birthday so close. Rohanna was sure she wouldn’t see any of the money that did come in, so it made better sense to wait. Besides, anything her stepmother wanted that bad automatically became something Rohanna tried her damnedest to keep from happening.
“So close,” Rohanna muttered to herself. She could practically taste her victory…because on the day the farm was signed over to her the first order of business was to show Belinda the front door. That vision was a favorite fantasy of hers, one that kept her going on days when it seemed like the hellish situation would never end.
Rohanna’s heart skipped a beat when the dually shuddered violently, shaking Rohanna out of her reverie. She looked in the rear view mirror. The horse trailer was swaying back and forth as if being pushed by a heavy side wind.
“What the hell?” Something had to be wrong to make it sway li
ke that. The trailer’s weight was being thrown off balance, pulling dangerously against the truck’s steering. Worried that something was wrong with Galileo, Rohanna slowed down and pulled over. Rohanna jumped out of the cab and walked back to the trailer. She stepped up onto the tire well to look through the escape door. Galileo was agitated, stomping around in the small area and rolling his eye at her until the whites showed. Ro was horrified to see one of his front shoes hanging loose. Shiny nails stuck out of the shoe, threatening to cut into the tender frog with each restless step and possibly laming him.
“Hush, Galileo, calm down, buddy.”
She spoke soothingly, calming the agitated horse down a bit before running back to the trailer’s tack room. Rohanna always kept a box in the small tack room where she kept a few emergency tools. It was a fact of life; horses would throw shoes, so it made sense to keep a shoe puller in the trailer…just in case. There was only one problem; the box was missing.
“I’m going to kill whoever raided my trailer,” Ro cursed under her breath. Thanks to Belinda’s little temper tantrum, she hadn’t done a final check before leaving as she normally did. Now Ro had to find a farrier and get the shoe taken care of, rather than just pull the shoe herself. Ideally, she would have done that and waited until she arrived at the show to have a new one put on. There always seemed to be a farrier at every horse show, some young or not-so-young man hoping to establish themselves and drum up new business. Finding one out in the middle of nowhere and on short notice was an entirely different matter.
Ro huffed and kicked a rock into the roadside ditch before climbing back into the truck cab and digging out her cell phone.
Great, one small town and its way off the freeway. Her only option was to backtrack thirty miles and there still wasn’t any guarantee of finding a damn thing. There wasn’t a single online listing for a farrier, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t any, it just meant they hadn’t bothered moving into this century. Not surprising. Most good farriers made a living by word of mouth. She was going to have to do it old school.
Rohanna started the engine and pulled out onto an empty highway. She was so not enjoying how her day was playing out.
About twenty minutes later, Rohanna slowed her rig down to the posted speed limit. As soon as she hit the little town, the country road she was driving along changed its name to Main Street and the speed limit dropped to 20.
Who still does that? She thought, half expecting to find old Studebakers and horse drawn carriages dotting the cobblestone edged street. Or maybe, a geeky little man in an oversized police uniform eagerly waiting for a stranger to wander into their midst’s. She had been on the road long enough to know her rig was a ticket magnet…especially when she was out of state. She tapped the brakes, slowing down even farther. The diesel engine groaned, upset at having to crawl by at a piddly seventeen miles per hour, while she kept one eye peeled for a black and white cruiser and the other on her destination.
“No ticket for you today, Barney,” Ro said, practicing her best “I belong here, just ignore me” slouch.
Main Street lived up to its name. An ancient strip of brick storefronts served as the center of an even smaller country town. If she had blinked, she would have missed the small sign proclaiming “largest selection of tack and feed in the county” tacked onto the side of an ancient two story brick building that had seen better days a few decades ago. Now it just looked decrepit and a little sad. Towns like these were rapidly dying, victims of shopping malls and big box stores that made it hard for country folk to keep small businesses running. Especially ones like this that were close enough to a freeway to bleed away jobs but too far away to be noticed by developers eager to find the next and best country getaway.
“Largest selection in the county?” Rohanna snorted. Put in perspective, they probably had the right to lay claim to that statement. She parked her truck and trailer and rushed across the street, praying that at least one farrier would have their card posted inside. She had yet to find a tack store that didn’t keep some kind of community board up in the back, overflowing with ads for farriers, horses for sale, trainers drumming up some business, and various other leaflets for local shows, feed, and weekend revivals.
In her haste, Ro pushed open the door with more force than she meant, slamming the door against the sales counter. A raucous tinkling of bells above the door announced her presence, their frantic noise echoing Rohanna’s own sense of urgency.
Ro stopped and looked around her. The tack store was considerably larger than it appeared from the outside and looked well stocked. Intent on her mission and distracted, Rohanna responded to the polite “hello” from the store clerk with an abrupt “Where can I find farrier ads posted?” The clerk frowned and pointed to the back of the store. A low “humph” behind her let her know the clerk thought she was being rude.
Ro blushed, but she didn’t have time to worry about her. She scanned the paper-filled board, finding not one, but three farrier business cards tacked into the cork.
“Yes!” Elated, Ro pulled out her cell phone and dialed the number listed on the closest card. A few minutes later her victory turned into defeat.
Well, that was a waste of time, Rohanna thought. It had taken her less than five minutes to call every farrier on the board—five minutes to have each one tell her she wasn’t going to get her horse shod today. After the last one called her “little lady,” she was ready to scream in frustration. She turned away from the useless pegboard. She needed to get back to Galileo. Boots beating a rapid staccato on the wood floor, Rohanna was almost out the door when the clerk’s voice interrupted her departure.
“Is there anything I can help you with?” the store clerk asked.
“Um, I was looking for a farrier, but no one seems to be able to see me on short notice.”
“I see. I might be able to help you out.”
“You know about another farrier?” Ro asked hopefully, flashing her best smile. “That would be wonderful.”
“Let me make a call and I’ll see what I can do.” The clerk left Rohanna at the front counter while she disappeared into the back office. After a few minutes, the woman re-emerged with a business card in her hand.
“She’ll see you. Here’s her card and the directions,” the woman said. She held onto the card when Rohanna reached out to take it.
“Now, I don’t give this card out to just anyone, you hear? She’s a friend, and I am doing this because I see you have a need.” She looked Ro in the eyes and waited until Rohanna acknowledged the favor before letting go.
“She? Her?” she asked, “The farrier’s a woman?”
“Is that a problem?”
“No, no. I don’t have a problem with that at all,” Ro said, back peddling quickly. “I’m just happy you found someone for me.” Rohanna smiled at the woman and thanked her for her effort.
“That’s fine. Just tell her that Dottie sent you, okay?”
“Yes, ma’am, and thank you again.”
Ro rushed for the door, but just before she managed to escape, the clerk called out to her again.
“Dottie, don’t forget my name now. Let her know Dottie sent you.”
“Dottie, right.” Ro felt she had to repeat the name, just to make the woman feel better. “Got it.”
The door bells chimed behind her and she was back outside. It was getting hot, too hot to leave Galileo in a parked horse trailer.
What a strange woman, maybe she gets credit for referrals Ro thought, then discarded her interest for more important matters. No matter, I’ve got what I needed. Keeping a firm grip on the business card, she jogged back to her rig. She needed to get this done and get back on the road if she was going to make it to the fairgrounds tonight.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Alex Strider pulled off her welding helmet and gloves before examining the unfinished metal sculpture in front of her. Wiping the sweat from her brow with her sleeve, she checked her last few welds and smiled. Pleased with the results,
she ran her fingers across the still warm metal, caressing the curves and shapes she had pulled from the old steel plate through fire and effort. The seams were smooth. They wouldn’t require much grinding to clean up the few rough edges left. Nodding her head appreciatively, she scrubbed her fingers together to work the residual tingling sensation out of her fingertips. Working with steel had its advantages and disadvantages, but she would never tire of the final product. Industry transformed into art. New and old mixing together and creating something infinitely more beautiful. A little discomfort was a small price to pay for her art.
Alex rolled her shoulders, feeling the tight muscles in her back and arms loosen up as she moved. She picked up her water bottle and finished it off, then leaned in the doorway. A piece this large was meant to be seen from afar, it was good to step away and see it as the buyer would, not as the artist. Most of her buyers would be attracted to the form, by the way it looked…and never feel brave enough to run their hands across the shapes. They should, but Alex had learned a long time ago that people tended to trust their eyes over any other sense. It seemed like such a limited way to live, but perhaps it was better that way.
“Not my concern, as long as they find beauty in the piece,” Alex muttered. “And are willing to pay the price for it.”
Alex ran practiced eyes along the lines of the sculpture lurking incomplete in her workshop. The area she had been working on had already turned cold and black, losing the organic feel of live steel. The glowing red of heated metal was almost hypnotic to watch, yet without the application of the torch, it would be impossible to make hardened steel bend and shape itself into the forms she saw in her head. She glanced at the tanks of gas strapped along the wall. Using the welder made the work easier, but she preferred the feel of a hammer in her hand and an old-fashioned forge fire. The solid ring of metal struck against the anvil was still preferable to the hiss and spark of a torch. It called to the past, and it didn’t require anything more technical than her own two hands and a hot coal fire. That was why a lot of her work started in the forge room and moved here, where the parts of the whole could be joined together into large and complex sculptures that the customers seemed to demand.