Tennessee Reunion

by Carolyn McSparren

  Anne realized she was not in as good physical shape as she’d thought. After one circuit of the arena leaning back on Molly’s long lines, she was puffing. Becca and Victoria hung over the fence and watched.

  “Let me,” Becca said as Anne walked by her.

  “I don’t think so,” Anne said.

  “I can walk around behind that bitsy mare and avoid being kicked. Aren’t I here to try?”

  Anne looked over at Victoria, who said, “Your call.”

  “Okay, but I walk with you.”

  “Deal.”

  The initial stages of the transfer of lines was chaotic. “She knows there’s someone else in control,” Anne said. “Try to keep a gentle feel of her mouth on both sides.”

  “How do I turn?”

  “Loosen the outside rein a little. Tighten the inside rein a little. Lay the outside rein against her side like a barrier. She’ll turn.”

  “Wow,” Becca said as they moved around the corner of the arena. “It works.”

  Twenty minutes later, the three women plus the mare were all soaked with sweat as they went through the reverse process of taking the harness off an annoyed Molly.

  “Why do they wear blinkers on the sides of their bridles by their eyes? Our riding horses don’t,” Becca asked.

  “So they don’t freak out when they become aware that there is a carriage with a person in it chasing them. The more they run away from it, the faster it follows. With the blinkers they don’t see what’s behind them, so they are less likely to be scared.”

  “But they feel it,” Becca said.

  “That’s why they have to learn to drag a weight—like a trailer tire—behind them before they try to pull a carriage.”

  Becca rolled her eyes. “Like that will be fun. She’ll run away. The tire will fly up in the air and slam into my head.”

  “Not if I can help it,” Anne said. “That’s for tomorrow. For your first day, we’ve done a lot, right, Victoria?”

  “Remarkable,” she said. “As a treat for good work, how about a swim before dinner?”

  “Mrs. Martin, you don’t have to cook,” Becca said.

  “I’m not cooking. Edward, my husband, does the cooking when I have people staying. You and Anne clean up. So how about the swim?”

  Becca didn’t stagger on her way to the cottage to change. So exercise did help.

  Anne might actually be able to help the girl and prove the value of the program to Vince.

  She couldn’t keep her mind off him. What had changed? It was as if he had suddenly looked at her as a woman and not just “Anne who disagrees with him.” She suspected they’d slip right back into their previous roles. He’d get annoyed. She’d get defensive. They’d snap at one another.

  But his hand felt so warm. His arms so strong...

  Good thing she could cool off in that pool. She needed it.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  VICTORIA’S SWIMMING POOL at the side of the patio was big for a private pool and free-form with a fountain and a waterfall. Victoria had softened the area around it with hot-weather plants like yucca that made it look even more natural. Anne loved the feel of the warm water over her muscles.

  Becca wore a very small bikini. Anne hadn’t worn one since she came home from horse camp her senior year in high school.

  Victoria whispered, “I should warn Becca that she’s skinnier than she’ll ever be in her life again. She should enjoy it.”

  Anne looked over the top of her sunglasses at Becca as she flashed through the water like a tetra fish in an aquarium, chasing dinner. “Should she be swimming?” The thought had only now occurred to her.

  “Her mother said she could. She only staggers when she’s walking.”

  “I’m going to bring Tom Thumb over from the pasture. We need to see if he’s afraid of the water and how he reacts if Becca holds on to his mane and asks him to pull her.”

  Tom Thumb was delighted to be on the patio with human people.

  “Becca, see if you can lead him down the steps at the shallow end and get him to swim with you,” Anne said. “You feel secure enough to attempt it?”

  “Sure. Come on, Tommy Baby, come to Mama.” Tom made a tentative approach into the water, then stood with his hind hooves on the edge of the pool and his front ones submerged on the top step. He looked bemused at having his rear end higher than his front.

  Anne joined Becca in the water to help guide in case the little horse wanted to turn around and hoist himself back onto dry land. They let him stand and figure out the problem by himself.

  After several minutes of looking at the water in confusion, he glanced over his shoulder at Anne and gave a hesitant nicker.

  “I’m sure he’s been in the lake at his home farm,” Victoria said. “It was the only source of clean water they had, and probably the only place they could get cool and keep the flies away.”

  “Come on, Tom,” Becca crooned.

  He took another tentative step, launched himself and promptly sank under the water.

  “Anne, help! He’ll drown,” Becca squealed, but Tom’s wet face surfaced. He snorted and swam toward her.

  “Told ya,” Anne said. “Grab hold of his halter, and see if he’ll pull you through the water.”

  Tom decided Becca had invented a new game, one that involved his trying to swim away from her while she held on and swam beside him. He paddled through the water from the shallow end to the deep end. It was all the same to him—even in the shallow end his legs didn’t touch the bottom of the pool.

  “All we need is a beach ball,” Victoria said. “I know they play polo with elephants, but water polo with minis—what a concept.” She entered the pool in a flat dive that barely disturbed the surface and swam over to join the group. “Tomorrow we’ll try Molly and Grumpy.”

  “I don’t imagine they’ll be quite so sensible,” Anne said. “Tom doesn’t seem to care what we ask as long as we’re around when he has to do it.”

  Becca treaded water with her left arm across his withers. The three women and one horse seemed to be involved in a four-way conversation. “All he needs is a voice box to be able to talk,” Anne said. “He’d be happy to instruct us about the best way to teach him. Becca, can you swim away? See what he does.”

  Becca let go of him and launched herself toward the far end of the pool. Tom gave a single glance at Victoria and Anne. Then, having made his choice, he swam after Becca.

  “It’s almost as though he feels as responsible for her as if she were a foal or yearling he needed to instruct,” Victoria said. “Think that’s enough swimming?”

  “For the first time, absolutely. Horses use the same muscles when they swim as when they walk, but it’s still exercise, and he’s Mr. Tubbo at this point. Come on, Becca, walk up the steps and out of the water. See if he can figure out how to get himself out or whether we’ll have to pick him up.”

  Becca crouched on the side of the steps after she climbed out and clapped to him. “Come on, Tommy Baby. You can do it.”

  He managed to put his front feet on the step, but going up one hoof at a time seemed confusing. The three women let him puzzle it out for a couple of minutes. Then Anne swam over and lifted one front foot to the next level. He shifted his weight. She’d trained plenty of horses to hop up into a horse trailer, but never tried steps under water. Victoria got behind him and shoved his rump forward. He leaned back against her. Then he put his other front hoof down and climbed up and out of the water.

  “Good boy!” Becca said and hugged him. He shook water off his coat and swept his wet tail across Victoria’s face.

  “Hey! That hurts,” she said and spit out the horse hair.

  Anne and Victoria climbed out beside him. All three women sat on the patio while Anne tried to convince Tom to lie down.

  Amazingly enough, he did. He laid
his head in Anne’s lap and went to sleep.

  “I don’t think it’s supposed to be this easy,” Becca whispered.

  Tom answered with a soft snore.

  “I doubt that it will be with the others. He’s remarkable,” Victoria said. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear he’d done all this before.”

  “Could he have? I mean, could the man who owned him have taught him?”

  Victoria leaned back on her elbows. “Mr. Amos, who owned them, hadn’t been capable of that kind of thing since before Tom was born.”

  “I think he just likes people,” Anne said.

  “Good evening, y’all,” said Victoria’s husband, Edward, as he strolled from the kitchen. “What y’all got there?”

  “We’ve been teaching Tom to swim,” Victoria said.

  “He looks like a little sultan dozing in the middle of his adoring harem.”

  Tom opened one eye, snorted, pulled his legs under him and rolled to his feet.

  The three women stood as well, and then Anne began to lead Tom Thumb back to the pasture. “This good little boy needs treats.”

  “And some brushing. Becca,” Victoria said, “there’s a bag of carrots on the table over there.”

  Becca took two steps and stumbled. Victoria grabbed her and shoved her into one of the iron chairs around the table. Becca dropped her head on her forearms. “Every time I forget, it gets me. It’s not fair.”

  “Nope, it’s not. You sit there,” Anne said. “You didn’t have any problem in the water or sitting on the edge of the pool.”

  “But I want...”

  “You’ve done a bunch. Let me handle this.”

  “Without Tom, how do I get back to the cottage by myself? I’ll stumble and land on my rear. Can we get Molly or Grumpy to let me hang on to them?”

  Anne and Victoria glanced at one another. “Okay, we can give it a shot. I’ll bring Grumpy back with me from the pasture,” Anne said. “He’s quieter than Molly. I’ll be right beside you. I won’t let you fall.”

  Twenty minutes later, Victoria, Grumpy, Becca and Anne proceeded down the hill to the cottage. Becca stumbled once and held on to Grumpy’s mane. He shoved against her hip, but didn’t miss a stride.

  “Is he trying to knock me out of his way?” Becca asked.

  “Not at all. Horses lean into pressure, not away from it. He’s following his instincts.”

  After they settled Becca in her bedroom, Victoria took Grumpy back out to the pasture for his dinner.

  Anne’s phone rang while she was waiting for Becca. Vince.

  “So?” he asked. “How did it go? You still in one piece?”

  “Went surprisingly well. Molly gave us some high kicks, but she settled down. That’s only the beginning.”

  “Uh-oh. I told you it was dangerous. Did Molly get hurt?”

  Anne leaned back against her pillows and chuckled. “Ask about the horse first?”

  “You already said you’re okay. So, Molly?”

  “Fine. We took Tom Thumb with us into the swimming pool.”

  “You what? He could have drowned you.” He took a breath. “Or Becca.”

  “We all loved it. He swims better than I do. I keep telling you, Doctor, I know what I’m doing.”

  “You’re moving too fast and taking chances. What if...”

  “It worked. And we plan to do it again tomorrow. If you’re so all-fired concerned, come over and watch us.” She hung up the phone.

  Same old, same old. Why did she think otherwise?

  * * *

  BECCA CAME OUT of her room twenty minutes later, showered, shampooed and freshly made up. Her eyes, however, were suspiciously red and puffy. She wore short shorts and a black T-shirt that read, Out of My Way, I’m the Boss Mare.” She sank into the other armchair and leaned her head back. “I refuse to cry.”

  “No reason you should. You’ve done an amazing lot today.”

  “I almost fell on the way back down here. Maybe you need to get another guinea pig. Maybe a blind person. They use horses to lead blind people, don’t they?”

  “More and more. For one thing, miniature horses live much longer than dogs. I can’t imagine the pain of losing a beloved guide dog after eight or nine years and having to start all over. With good care, a VSE will be going strong after thirty.”

  “With good vet care like Dr. Vince around. Yeah.”

  Anne suspected she was considering the vet rather than the horse.

  Anne handed her a tall icy glass of lemonade from the tray on the coffee table beside her. “You’re our first test case. We wanted someone who needed help, but with some personal control and knowledge of large horses. You and I and Tom are a team.”

  “Tom’s already doing it all.”

  Anne laughed. “We’ve barely gotten started. We’re also collapsing the time spent training. We’ve been told by one of the older groups in North Carolina who are already doing this sort of training that it can take anywhere from three months to a year before the clients are ready to take their horses home for good. We’re aiming to team you with a horse before you go off to college this fall. Three months. We may not make it. You could still be coming back here during school holidays.”

  “I should go on home and give up the whole idea.”

  “Sure, if you want to.”

  Becca sat up and gripped the arms of her chair. “You’d let me quit? Honestly?”

  “Not without a fight. Now, if you’re up for it, how about we drive into Williamston to eat at the café? It’s a real cultural experience. Everybody in town goes there. I warned Victoria that we wouldn’t be home.”

  “She’s okay with it?”

  “I suspect she and Edward don’t get to spend enough time alone as it is. I think they appreciate their time together. Now, why don’t you relax, take a nap. I’ve got chores to take care of in the barn, and my horse, Trusty, has forgotten he’s my horse. I want to give him a brush and a kiss.”

  She’d hoped to fit in another trail ride on Trusty, but so far there had not been enough time, and she still didn’t know the property well enough to be certain she wouldn’t get herself lost in a neighboring farmer’s bean field or drown in the swamp.

  Did Vince ride? Now, why on earth would she care?

  For Becca, watching Anne trot off on Trusty would be like rubbing alcohol into an open wound. She’d wait until Becca had gone home to Memphis. Then she’d persuade Victoria to show her around the land some more.

  When Anne came in from her chores, Becca was asleep in the armchair with her empty glass lying in her lap.

  Anne snuck by her to have her own shower and shampoo. During the summer, she needed two a day if she planned to go anywhere in the evening.

  * * *

  “HEY, VELMA,” ANNE greeted the waitress as she ushered Becca into the Williamston café. “Can we have our usual booth?”

  “Sure, honey. Where’s Victoria and Edward?”

  “Having some alone time.” Anne introduced Becca.

  “You helpin’ with those little bitty horses? They are so cute. Don’t know what you can do with them, though.”

  “You’d be surprised. Before long we’ll be bringing one with us when we eat here,” Anne said.

  Velma shook her head. “Can you do that? Dogs, I know you can. But horses?”

  “The disability regulations say so long as a VSE is a companion or helper animal, he can come in.”

  “So what do you do with him while you eat? It gets crowded in here. What if it has to go potty? Eeew.”

  “Trust me, Velma. By the time we bring one of our guys in with us, he’ll be potty-trained. He’ll probably curl up under the table and take a nap.”

  “Or just stand by the table and wait until we finish,” Becca said. “That’s what a big horse would do if it were tied to a hitchi
ng post outside.”

  Anne nodded her approval.

  “If you say so, I guess it’ll be okay.”

  “If they can ride on escalators and fly on airplanes, I’d say so. Now, what’s the special today?”

  “Fried pork chops, turnip greens and salad with our own tomatoes. Peach cobbler for dessert.”

  “Becca?” Anne asked. “You can have a menu if you like. I’ll have the special and iced tea.”

  “Me, too,” Becca said. “Unsweet tea. No sugar. If I ever do get a chance to ride again, I don’t want to be blown up like a bowling ball.”

  “They blow up soccer balls,” Anne said. “Bowling balls are solid.”

  “Whatever.”

  Becca scarfed down her dinner, then eagerly moved on to dessert. As Becca devoured the peach cobbler and ice cream, Anne said, “I thought you were off sugar.”

  Becca answered between bites. “Get real. Who’s gonna turn this down? I’ll work harder with Molly and Grumpy tomorrow. Aren’t you having any?”

  Anne patted her flat midriff. “I wish I had your metabolism. I have to sweat to keep the bowling ball effect at bay.”

  “Do you get to ride much?” Becca carefully chased the last of the peaches around her dish.

  “Not as much as I’d like. Trusty is a big warmblood from Germany. He gets along fine with less exercise. If he were a Thoroughbred, at this point he’d be high as a kite without daily outings. What is...” She stopped herself. She was going to ask about the breeding of Becca’s Aeolus, but the wound was too fresh for her to mention his name.

  “It’s okay,” Becca said. “I can talk about him. I’ve been emailing the girl who has him now up in Virginia, giving her tips, you know. Like, he likes those little baby carrots, not the big ones.” She turned away and surreptitiously ran her fingers under her eyes.

  Not okay, Anne thought. Still hurts.

  “But, hey.” Becca gave Anne a sunny smile. “I’ve got Tom now. Horse is horse, right?”

  Anne laughed. “Always has been for me. Maybe when you’re little, it’s being in control of something that’s so much bigger. My father still has a picture of me, age three, leading a big gray warmblood gelding from the practice ring to the stable. I am trucking along with this humongous creature beside me that could smash me into a pulp. I’m lit up from inside like a Christmas tree. Don’t forget, we’re going to work with Molly and Grumpy, too. Not just Tom.”