For The Love of Horses (Pegasus Equestrian Center)

by Diana Vincent

  Sierra’s face softened into a smile. He is so sweet. Last year when she hinted to Dean Clark, her supposed boyfriend at that time, that she wanted to go to the prom, Dean hadn’t even had the decency to come right out and say ‘no’, but had said ‘maybe’, and left her hanging. “You don’t mind?” she asked, not wanting to force him.

  “No, I think I’ll like dancing with you. I just hadn’t thought of it.”

  “River, thank you.” She leaned over and hugged him, kissing him as she pulled away.

  “Any excuse to hold you in my arms,” he said, but then added in a tone of conviction, “I’m not wearing a tux though.”

  She laughed. “No, you don’t have to. You could just wear what you wore to the Valentine’s Ball; that’s dressy enough. I can wear a dress that’s comfortable to dance in and not a formal. I like that much better anyway.”

  Three weeks later, Sierra and River attended the homecoming banquet and prom.

  Without Sierra asking, River actually stepped up his wardrobe from last year’s Valentine’s Ball where he had worn black jeans and a white shirt. Acting on advice from Tess, he bought a pair of black dress slacks and plain black leather shoes. For the prom, he wore a white shirt and even his black show coat and black tie.

  When he arrived to pick Sierra up, driving Tess’s Lexus that she loaned him for the evening, he was glad he had made the effort. For when Sierra stepped into the living room dressed in a green print, silky dress that shimmered around her petite form, her light brown hair with its honey-rich tones cascading around her face and past her shoulders, and her large brown eyes reflecting the light as she gazed at him; his heart jumped in his chest and felt as if it expanded to press against his lungs as he sucked in his breath. It actually hurt as his feelings for her filled out all the empty spaces inside him. His eyes opened wide and his mouth fell open, the corners turning up uncontrollably into a grin of appreciation.

  Sierra thought she would forever remember that night as if she had fallen into a fairy tale dream. With her ‘handsome prince’ gazing at her with adoration and melting into his arms as he led her around the dance floor, she felt like an enchanted princess. She actually felt beautiful.

  “Sierra, there is something about you tonight,” Allison said as the two girls retreated to the restroom during the band’s break. “You literally glow. You outshine even the homecoming queen!”

  “I doubt that. If anyone outshines the queen it’s you,” Sierra replied, but for the first time as she compared her appearance to that of her exotically beautiful friend, she did not feel lacking. Allison preferred dresses with simple lines that enhanced her tall, willowy figure and complimented her features. Tonight she wore a short black dress in a shimmery fabric with a wrap-style bodice, a choker neckline, open back, and the skirt flaring at mid-calf. She wore gold jewelry with deep blue stones that matched her blue-and-gold mum. Our styles are just different and you can’t really compare us – it would be like comparing an Arabian horse with a thoroughbred; both with distinct features and both beautiful.

  Allison smiled and shook her head. “River looks incredibly handsome too. Have you noticed all the envious looks you two are getting? Even if he weren’t so striking in black and white, he’d draw attention with his dancing. I still am amazed at what a good dancer he is.”

  “Me too, but I shouldn’t be surprised. I think dancing is like feeling the movement of a horse underneath you. He hears music like he feels the ‘music’ of a horse’s muscles.”

  “That is quite poetically insightful,” Allison said laughing.

  “Sierra,” someone called.

  Sierra turned to see Crystal and Gloria entering the restroom. She forced herself to keep her features neutral as her old enemy approached, not wanting her to have any idea of the chill that settled throughout her being whenever Crystal noticed her.

  “Have you heard from Dean?” Crystal asked in a sweet voice laced with undertones of malice.

  The question startled Sierra into a frown. “Why would I hear from Dean?” she asked, knowing the best response would be to ignore Crystal and just leave, but her curiosity overrode her good sense.

  “I’m sure he would want to tell you all about the new horse he is getting,” Crystal responded with such smugness that Sierra struggled to stifle a shiver. She could not imagine why Crystal or Dean would care, unless it somehow involved herself or River. An image of Corazón flashed into her mind and sudden nausea churned the punch and two cookies she had just eaten. But what could Dean’s new horse have to do with Cory? There is no reason for me to react like this. Dean was away at college, somewhere on the east coast. She had nothing to fear from Dean.

  “Let’s go,” she said to Allison, turning away from Crystal. Derisive giggling followed her and Allison out the door.

  “What was that all about?” Allison asked, noting how Sierra’s face had paled into a sick expression.

  “I don’t know, but I’m afraid I will eventually find out and I won’t like it,” Sierra answered, and this time didn’t fight off the shiver that shuddered her shoulders for a brief moment as her heart thudded heavily.

  Once again dancing in River’s arms, she forgot about Crystal. The rest of the evening flew by, and it wasn’t until after she had kissed River goodnight, hugged her mother, and snuggled into her bed with her cat Socrates next to her pillow and Charlie at her feet, that Crystal and Dean invaded her pleasant musings of the evening, and she again shivered with dread.

  *****

  “Can you help me?” Delia Evans asked as Sierra led Magnificent (nicknamed Max) into the crossties after riding him on the trail.

  “Sure, what do you need?” Sierra answered as she exchanged Max’s bridle for his halter and secured him in the crossties.

  “She won’t let me put the bit in her mouth,” Delia answered, a rueful expression on her face. She stood holding a bridle next to Fala, a black Arabian mare and one of Pegasus’s school horses. “My lesson is in ten minutes and I’m not going to have time to warm up.”

  Memories of taking lessons from Tess reminded Sierra of how irritated the instructor would get if her student wasn’t warmed up and ready to work by the time she arrived. She understood why Delia looked so distraught, and sympathetically she stepped over to help her out.

  “First of all,” Sierra said in a gentle tone as she noted the wary look in Fala’s eye. The mare had a sweet, even-tempered disposition so Sierra wondered what Delia had done to upset her. “You have her splint boots on backwards.” She bent down to remove the boots from Fala’s front legs, and reapplied them correctly. “See how the closures need to face to the rear?”

  “Oh, I never noticed that before,” Delia answered.

  “Why don’t you switch the back ones now,” Sierra suggested, as she stroked Fala’s neck and happy to see the mare lower her head now that someone she trusted was nearby. She watched as Delia removed and replace the splint boots correctly.

  “Okay, step over here next to me,” she directed when Delia finished with the boots. “Show me how you were trying to put the bridle on.”

  Delia picked up the bridle again and stepped directly in front of Fala and pushed with the bit against the mare’s closed mouth. Fala jerked her head up and away. “See, she won’t let me.”

  Patiently, Sierra directed Delia to stand next to Fala’s head, facing forward and then talked her through step-by-step how to put on the bridle. “You see?” she said when Delia successfully slipped the bit into Fala’s mouth and pulled the crown piece up behind her ears. “Now, gently, move the ears forward and…yes, like that…now pull the forelock out of the browband.” She continued to coach as Delia buckled the throatlatch and then the caveson.

  “Thank you,” Delia replied gratefully. “That young man had her tacked up and ready to go for my first lesson. When I told Tess I wanted to learn how to tack up my own horse, I thought she would show me how, not just tell me to go get Fala ready.”

  Realizing Delia had not received
any instructions, Sierra decided she better check placement of the saddle, and again made adjustments, undoing the girth and showing Delia how to lift the saddle above the withers and then settle it into place by moving it backwards. “You don’t ever want to slide the saddle forward because it can move against the way the hair on the back lies, and cause irritation.” Sierra pulled the reins over Fala’s head and handed them to Delia. “I think you’re ready to go. When you get in the arena, tighten the girth up one more hole before you mount.”

  “Thank you so much.” Delia took the reins and smiling once over her shoulder at Sierra, led Fala away.

  Watching her go, Sierra thought back on her own first experiences learning to groom and tack up a horse, and how thankful she was to have had River as her teacher. Delia, a slightly overweight, middle-aged woman, had just started taking lessons from Tess. But unlike many of Tess’s students, Delia wanted to learn everything she could about a horse from the ground up, and didn’t want to arrive with her horse already tacked up; and then hand off the reins to Sierra, River, or Enrique to take care of after the lesson.

  As she returned to caring for Max, she thought about how she had actually enjoyed showing Delia what to do and wondered if someday she might like to give riding lessons herself, if she ever felt competent enough to teach others. I need to ask River to help her out. If River knew that Delia wanted to learn, he would help her. But since he was used to Tess’s rich clients wanting everything done for them, he had probably not given Delia a chance.

  Finished with Max, she could now ride Fiel; a horse she really enjoyed! Not that she didn’t enjoy riding any horse, but Max was a lazy, disheartened gelding sent to Tess for re-training. After several months of only trail riding, his attitude had perked up a little so that he didn’t need constant pushing on the trail. But in the arena, he still balked at work, and Tess was trying to convince his owner to sell him to someone who only wanted to trail ride. A horse pushed too hard early in his career, at age fifteen, Max was soured on work.

  “Fiel,” she called out to her horse, standing in a patch of shade in his paddock.

  The gray gelding lifted his head at the sound of her voice, and with a soft whicker, walked over to meet her at the gate.

  “Hey, handsome,” she cooed at him as she gave him a piece of carrot and then hooked on his halter. “Ready for a little work?” Fiel followed readily behind her, tossing his head and snorting; his long, dark gray mane hanging below his neck.

  A tall, gangly bay thoroughbred stood in the crossties, with River bent over removing the horse’s splint and bell boots.

  “How was Moose?” she asked as she brought Fiel into the adjacent crosstie bay.

  “Great,” River answered, looking up with a smile. “Tess had me jump a course with four foot fences. Moose practically walked over them.”

  “Awesome; so you think he’ll be ready for advanced level next season?”

  “He can handle the jumps.” Still bent over, he began to pick out the big bay’s feet with a hoof pick. “It’s the dressage he’ll have trouble with. He doesn’t collect very well…steady, almost done,” River spoke softly as the horse pulled slightly at the hoof in River’s hand. He finished picking out the dirt alongside the frog. Then he allowed Moose to set his foot down. Standing up, River stroked reassuringly along the bay’s croup and hindquarters. “Tess says his owner accepted the offer from that big eventing stable.”

  “With the international rider?”

  “Yeah.” River picked up a brush and began working over Moose’s coat.

  “Wow, that’s pretty awesome,” Sierra mused as she brushed along Fiel’s back. “Imagine, a horse you trained might end up in the Olympics.”

  Modestly, River said, “Moose is the one who’s overcome his fears and puts all his heart into jumping now.” He finished with the brush and picked up a soft cloth to wipe the edges of the bay’s nostrils. “It’s a good place for him though. I’ve seen the guy ride…remember that one DVD we watched at your place, last year’s Rolex trials and the guy who placed second?”

  “Umhmm,” Sierra said.

  “I liked how quiet he is…got soft hands. He’ll be good with Moose.”

  “Do you think it will be a good home for him?”

  “I think so; Tess says their rider is going to keep him at intermediate level next season, while they get to know each other. I don’t think they’ll push him too hard.”

  “That’s good; he deserves a good home, don’t you ole’ boy?” Sierra said, looking over at the bay. “I’ll miss you.” She laughed, remembering a few spooky rides when Tess had assigned her to trail ride Moose a couple years ago when he was very green.

  “I’ll miss him a lot,” River said, pausing to stroke the silky hair along the bay’s neck. “He’s a lot of fun to ride and it’s so cool how courageous he’s gotten to be.” Finished grooming, he led Moose out of the crossties. “You going on the trail?”

  “Yes, I can wait for you if you want.”

  “Cool, I’ll be right back with Cory.”

  When both their horses had been groomed and saddled, they led them to the back field’s mounting block and then headed out to a series of trails where they would ride a loop that included hills and a small log jump. It was always Sierra’s favorite part of the day, when she and River rode together on their own horses. Both Fiel and Corazón loved getting out in the open and enjoyed the trail as much as their riders.

  After the ride and as they were walking their horses back to the stable, Sierra brought up the subject of Delia. “Why didn’t you help her get Fala ready?” she asked after River admitted that all he did was point out the paddock where Fala had been turned out when Delia asked where she could find the mare.

  “I didn’t know she needed any help,” he said as his excuse.

  “Couldn’t you have at least asked?” Sierra tried to hide her irritation. “When I met her in the crossties she had Fala’s splint boots on backwards and the saddle was not on correctly. At least for Fala’s sake you should have made sure she knew what she was doing.”

  “Okay, I’m sorry,” River answered defensively. “I just thought she knew what to do since she didn’t say anything.”

  “She’ll be done with her lesson by the time we get back, and we should show her how to cool out a horse properly.”

  “Fine; you can do that, can’t you?”

  “Okay, River,” Sierra answered in resignation. River had a habit of avoiding the boarders and students who came for lessons, so she wasn’t surprised.

  “Do you mind?” he asked, sensing her irritation.

  “Actually, I don’t mind, but you are a very good teacher when you want to be, and maybe we can both help her out.”

  “Okay, if she asks me I’ll help her,” he agreed begrudgingly.

  They were just finishing brushing their own horses when Delia entered the stable and led Fala into the crossties. Her expression and her slumped shoulders testified that her lesson had not gone well.

  “How was your lesson?” Sierra asked.

  “I’m feeling very inept,” Delia admitted as she struggled to remove Fala’s bridle.

  Sierra looked over at River and catching his eye, frowned at him; signaling him to help.

  He sighed in resignation and stepped over to where Fala stood with her head high, exhibiting her anxiety. “Here, like this.” He showed Delia how to remove the bridle and replace it with the halter and secure Fala in the crossties. Then he helped her remove the tack, pick out Fala’s hooves, and brush her off.

  Sierra watched in amusement as she noted River’s attitude revert to patient gentleness as Delia listened attentively and tried to follow his instructions.

  “Thank you so much,” Delia said when she successfully had Fala groomed and ready to take to her stall.

  “You should show her the correct way to lead,” Sierra suggested and was pleased when River helped Delia pick up the lead rope correctly and then walked with her as she led Fala away to her
stall.

  After they helped Manuel and Enrique bring the horses in for the night, and had cleaned their tack and put it away, Sierra and River were done for the day.

  “Was that so hard helping Delia?” Sierra asked.

  “No,” he answered sheepishly and keeping his eyes down. “She’s a nice lady.”

  “I told you,” Sierra persisted in a teasing tone, “and Fala or whatever horse Tess assigns her, will be much better off for your help.”

  “Okay, alright.”

  Sierra watched him trying not to smile, but when he sensed her scrutiny, he lost control and the corners of his mouth twitched up. “Why do you always have to be right?”

  “I’m not,” she laughed.

  “Most of the time, smart girl,” he retorted, also laughing, and put an arm around her shoulders as they walked over to his truck.

  *****

  After two rings, Tess picked up her desk phone and answered, “Pegasus Equestrian Center.”

  “Jerry here.”

  On hearing the name and recognizing her lawyer’s voice, her stomach instantly clenched into a lump of fire. “What is it?”

  “I don’t have good news, and I really don’t know how to make this any easier.”

  “Just tell me.”

  “The DNA report is positive. The sample matches up with a sire and dam from the Cormack woman’s stock.”

  “No,” Tess groaned in denial.

  “I took all the papers to your vet, Tim Patterson, right?”

  “Yes,” Tess confirmed.

  “He couldn’t find anything to dispute her claim that she bred Corazón since she owns the parents and has his breeding record. Neither could my partners. Tess, I’m very sorry, but it looks like Beverly Cormack owns the horse.”

  “This is inconceivable,” Tess stated. “Don’t we have some recourse; something like possession is nine-tenths of the law or something?”