by Leigh Hutton
‘I was watching from the lounge, so you wouldn’t have seen me. Pretty much the whole barn was watching, actually! It was awesome — somebody finally showed Marcus up.’ Jasmine cackled, and Ebony couldn’t help but grin. ‘Afterwards, everyone talked about how well you rode him, for, like, weeks! And Monster — the way you got him to move, to jump. He was amazing. Mantina even asked to try him after you, and couldn’t even get on him. Monster spun around and bit her on her royal behind! I didn’t stop laughing for a week.’
Suddenly, laughter spilled from Ebony like a mountain stream. She couldn’t contain it; it split her sides and forced tears from her eyes. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed, and it felt incredible. Before she could stop herself, she’d grabbed Jasmine’s arm for support.
‘Can I help with him, Ebony?’ Jasmine was taking deep breaths to stop herself from hyperventilating with laughter.
‘Please?’
‘Yeah, Jazz.’ Ebony pulled her sleeve over her hand to wipe the tears from her cheeks, and the black make-up from under her eyes. ‘I’d love your help.’
When it was time for her lesson with Marcus, Ebony was ready for a fight, and by the feel of Johnny, he was in. The pair bounced with a fast-paced walk up the corridor of the barn and into the indoor arena. Ebony, searching for Marcus, and Johnny, checking out a young chestnut filly that was being lunged by one of Marcus’s busty blonde grooms, in the far corner of the ring.
When Johnny caught sight of his own reflection in the mirrored walls, however, the filly and the groom lost all of his attention.
‘Jesus, Johnny!’ Ebony pulled him left to keep them from ploughing head on into the first jump of the combination. ‘Walk much?!’ She always managed to feel like a mother scolding a naughty child every time she was around this horse.
Marcus’s voice was coming from the doorway to the lounge and offices. In a flash, she hopped down from Johnny, looped his reins around the post of the middle vertical of the combination, and dashed towards his voice.
‘Eb-o-ny,’ Marcus said her name slowly, warily. He’d obviously clocked her stance; her hands balled into fists, eyes wide and probably wild. Her mouth set in a hard line as she stalked towards him.
Marcus’s hands shot out to the side, on the defence. ‘I honestly didn’t—’
‘Save it!’ Ebony hit chests with Marcus at a near run. She thought for a moment that the tall man would fall back onto his ass from the force of the impact, but his core was strong enough to take the hit. He swayed for a moment, catching his breath, and then he grabbed Ebony by the shoulders and pulled her to the back wall of the arena, out of sight of the lounge. ‘What have I told you about making a scene?’
‘You know I don’t give a crap what people think. How,’ she pushed her face within centimetres of his, ‘could a horse have been practically decomposing in your stable without you knowing anything about it?’
‘You know how busy I am—’ His hands shot up to protect his face, just as Ebony raised her own, as a warning. ‘That didn’t come out right! God, settle down, girl!’
Ebony glared at Marcus in a way that she was sure could freeze fire.
His eyes dropped down to the sand floor of the arena. ‘I didn’t know that his name had been crossed from the board. I thought he was still being looked after. Seriously—’ His eyes raised to hers and she could have sworn there were tears in the corners — ‘I feel terrible. I’m sorry, okay? Believe me, I didn’t know.’
Ebony rocked back on her heels and crossed her arms.
‘Anything you need for him, it’s yours.’ Marcus sniffed, wiped his nose, then looked away, and shoved his hands into the pockets of his beige breeches. ‘The vet’s already on his way and I’ve called the farrier. I’ll cover the bills for feed and everything else. Just forgive me, please?’
Ebony kept her eyes icy and fixed. ‘I understand he was difficult and gave you guys trouble, but locking him away like that, it wasn’t fair.’
‘I know, it was horrid. Again, forgive me? He’s had a terrible life and I haven’t made it any better. But that’s going to change, now. You’re going to change him. I can feel it.’
Ebony bit her bottom lip, tasting the cold metal of her silver hoop ring, and took a deep breath. ‘I’ve never heard his story.’
Marcus seemed to take this as a sign of forgiveness, and relaxed back against the wall. The lines of worry across his forehead faded and his eyes regained their dancing sparkle. ‘Monster’s story? Well, like you, I suspect my dear, the little horse has quite the story.’
Ebony raised her eyebrows for him to continue, her arms still folded across her chest.
‘Monster was once named Go Star, his father is a German stallion — who Luther bred to several of his mares — and son of the Quick Star. Monster’s mother, also a stunning Selle Francais mare who was a hot jumper in her own right, died of a heart aneurism giving birth to Monster’s full sister, a few years after he was born.’
‘Where’s his sister now?
‘Luther’s been showing her for the last few years, she’s eight now, I think, two years younger than Monster. I’m surprised you didn’t see her?’
The penny dropped and Ebony couldn’t believe she hadn’t put two and two together. The horses looked virtually identical, they could have been twins.
Star Girl.
Ebony remembered seeing the glorious little mare around the barn and seeing her jump. She was just as bold and brave as Monster but seemed gentler and not as tow-ey, she was incredibly intelligent, very careful and just as competitive as her brother.
Luther had never gelled with the horse, which had stifled her progress. Ebony shuddered at the thought of Luther being cruel to the poor mare, as he was with all of his horses.
‘You should buy her, Marcus,’ she said.
‘Not in the market for any more mares.’
‘Oh, please!’ Ebony said. She would love to have Star Girl under this roof and at that moment, Ebony made a promise to herself. Once she had the money, she would buy Star Girl. To reunite with her brother. And to show herself.
‘Back to Monster I thought you wanted his full story?’ Marcus said.
‘Continue, please …’
‘Okay, so Luther had him showing in the meter forties and was very successful with him, I’m sure you remember his win at the North American a while back? Like I said, he was called Go Star back then. He never touched a fence, unless Luther really mucked it up … Monster was always a spirited little fellow, he was proud cut, as they wanted to leave him a stallion but hoped gelding him would curb his behaviour. It didn’t. He remained aggressive and tore about the paddocks and always jumped out, so Luther had to start keeping him stabled. One day, when Luther had him free jumping in a grid, Monster just snapped and kicked him in the back of the head.’
‘Why’d he snap at Luther?’
‘Well, Clance found out from one of their female grooms that they were rapping his legs with a steel pole. God knows why, he always jumped perfectly when I saw him. That’s why I bought him in the first place. Apparently, after he kicked Luther, one of Luther’s guys lost it and took the rap pole to Monster’s face. You can still see the scars, just under his eyes, if you look closely. Vets had to be called in to sedate him. They started calling him Monster after that. And that’s how everyone started to treat him.’
Ebony’s eyes went huge and glassy. She’d heard of this being done before, but never quite believed that any trainer could be so cruel. ‘That is monstrous.’
‘I’ve never done it, but it works for some trainers.’
Ebony wanted to slap Marcus, again, and shook her head.
‘I’m sorry, okay?’ he said. ‘Like I said, this is your chance to turn Monster’s life around. Anything you need, you’ve got it. Let me help you.’
‘Thanks, Marcus.’
He held her gaze, and smiled his wide, inviting smile. Ebony pursed her lips, but could feel the frost clearing from her eyes.
; ‘Now, we’ve got a lesson, me and you.’ Marcus wrapped an arm around her shoulders and turned with her towards the ring. ‘Where is the glorious Johnny boy?’
They spotted Johnny standing over the oxer at the end of the combination, tearing apart a dried flower arrangement. Bits of plastic leaf and petals were flying everywhere.
Both riders sighed and dropped their heads.
The entire barn had congregated in the lounge to witness Ebony’s first jump on Monster.
The powerful, pure blood Selle Francais truly was returned to form, and going well for her on the flat. He was a relatively plain horse, dark bay with no markings, and a tad short as far as show jumpers were concerned, standing at just 15.3 hands. Ebony was afraid her saddle pads wouldn’t fit him, so short was his back. But what he lacked in flashiness and height he made up for in presence, with a strong shoulder, a stout, muscular neck and huge, rounded hind end, sprung with sheer power. His coat, shining with health and light bay dapples, was already covered in a sheen of dark sweat. He held his head high, his eyes as wide as his nostrils, flaring, spoiling for a win.
Ebony had watched with a mixture of pure joy and dread as Monster fought back to his former glory. He did stay gentle with her, Winnie and Jazz, but no one else dared go near him. Pacing, pawing, calling out in his stall. His spirit had returned, the flame within him rekindled. His old anger reprogrammed within this dark mind. Ebony hoped like hell that she hadn’t made a mistake.
Strangely enough, Monster listened to her instructions. He didn’t need to come on the bit, his neck was short and helped propel him along as he held it high and straight, so different from the huge, rounded Hanoverians and Warmbloods, like Johnny. His steps were quick and purposeful as he moved up into a fluid trot along the straight of Marcus’s indoor, bending supply between the pull of her inside rein and squeeze of her outside leg.
Into a canter — and Monster was full of beans. A few big circles around the whole ring, then cutting across, flying change. He let off a huge buck. Back to a trot, canter, some tight circles. Ebony checked him hard, as he started to try and cart her. He kicked out at the boards, but didn’t unseat her. She could feel that if he wanted to, he certainly could.
Marcus gave the word with a wave of his hand and Ebony swung down the left hand side of the ring, aimed at the single vertical, set to about a meter ten. They’d discussed starting him small.
She settled into the saddle, blending her motion with Monster’s gait. She saw the distance to the fence, about four strides out. Three. Two — it was a touch long, so she urged him on, with a squeeze of her leg. Her heart was pounding, and the air whizzed past her ears. It was pure bliss, the feeling of piloting a wild animal over a fence. Adrenaline, charging both you and beast, giving you wings.
She moved forward in the saddle, ready to take flight.
Monster hit the brakes.
Ebony, expecting to be jumped out of the tack when this enthusiastic horse again got the chance to jump, was totally unseated.
She shot off his back and at the fence like a bullet, hitting her cheek on the top rail and then the ground on her shoulder and hip. Her ears rung, pain pulsed inside her helmet and stabbed at her shoulder. She scrambled to her feet, eyes blurry with dirt and tears.
Crap, she thought, cursing herself for this rookie mistake. The bugger got me.
Monster kept his head at her side, prancing, his eyes wild. Terrified.
No, he’s lost his confidence, Ebony realised, her heart sinking. She grabbed her right shoulder and did a few rotations, to make sure it wasn’t dislocated. Felt her cheek, where the pain jabbed straight to her bones. She couldn’t feel blood, she seemed to be fine.
But her horse, he was not. His spirit might not have been broken, but his ability to perform certainly was.
It went against every thread of self-preservation she had inside, but Ebony knew she would have to ‘cowboy up’ with this mount. Ride firm to help Monster get back over a fence, regain confidence in his ability to do what he loved. But first, she needed to win back his trust.
Marcus jumped down from his Director’s chair and was at her side. He shook his head, removed his ball cap, and smacked it on his knee. ‘He certainly is a complicated one, isn’t he?’
‘Help me up.’
‘You sure?’
Ebony fumbled for her stirrup to mount herself, but Monster bucked and tossed his head.
Marcus grabbed her by the thigh, and tossed her into the saddle. ‘He’s scared, eh?’ He locked his eyes on Ebony’s, as she gathered the reins, bringing the horse under control.
‘Is it any wonder, what he’s been through?’
‘You know what you’ve got to do.’
‘I’m up for it,’ she said.
Worry again creased Marcus’s forehead. ‘There’s no guarantee he’ll come back, Eb.’
‘I have faith in him. He just needs to start smaller.’ He was prancing on the spot, bouncing away from Marcus. She stroked his neck and spoke to him soothingly. ‘No offence, Marcus, but I think you and everyone else watching is making him nervous.’
‘Okay …’
‘I’m gonna get him un-tacked,’ Ebony said, as Monster reared and broke into a trot, towards the stable. ‘Can you clear the arena for me, just for half an hour, please?’
Marcus’s eyebrows laced together with concern. ‘I’ll stay, to help—’
‘No. I got this.’
Ebony and Winnie managed to get him untacked and after a nice brush with a big, round, soft bristled brush, and a carrot, Monster had relaxed and calmed down. She fished a treat out of her pocket, gave him a kiss on his nose, and then led him back to the arena.
She led him around once, twice, then let him sniff each of the jumps, to show him that none of the rails were going to leap up and hurt him, allowing him to get familiar again with the obstacles of his sport.
When he seemed happy, she led him over to the single fence at the far end. ‘Now, I’m just gonna drop this rail, okay, Monster?’ She looked him in the eye, and he seemed settled. She dropped the fence in to a cross rail, no more than a foot high. ‘Now, it’s time to have some fun, kay?’ Ebony grinned at Monster, then swung her arms back, then forward and jumped on the spot. The horse looked up in surprise.
‘Jumping is fun, Monster — remember?’ She held her grin, and playfully tapped Monster on the nose with her finger. He eyed her suspiciously, one ear forward, one back. Then he took a step forward.
Ebony led him to the back of the arena, and brought him forward into a trot. She felt like a child again, as she ran with the horse towards the tiny fence. She was smiling, the way she had when she was a young girl, playing with the ponies out in the paddocks at her first ever barn. She held firm to the lead rope, as he was tensing, pulling from her, as they neared the little jump. But she didn’t let him get away. Instead, she spoke to him softly. ‘It’s okay, brave boy. You can do this.’
Hop, the pair went, over the tiny fence.
Ebony stopped on the other side, to give him a pat and a treat from her pocket. She rubbed his face. ‘See? Easy.’ She gave him his head and stepped back, towards the fence. ‘Good boy, want to do it again?’ Monster’s ears were forward, his breathing steady. He swished his tail, and stepped towards her.
Ebony had him doing a four-fence course, at her side, after their short session.
Marcus entered from the lounge area, clapping, as they finished. ‘Fairly unorthodox, don’t ya think?’ he said.
‘Fairly effective, don’t you think?’
‘We’ll see when you’re on his back. But it’s impressive. He’s definitely relaxed and happier to be here.’
‘Strange what a little patience and love can do, huh?’ Ebony flashed Marcus a wide grin, gave Monster a pat on his forehead, and then led her big friend back to the barn.
She repeated this session every day for a week, leading the horse into the ring, in his halter and no tack, often being heckled and called ‘freak’, ‘loser’ or ‘no
hoper’, by Mantina or Dougie or one of their grooms. This did stop, however, when Monster lashed out with his teeth at Crown Jewel, sending the royal pair scuttling back to the barn, the horse’s tail between his legs.
The next day, and Ebony and Monster were back in the arena, as soon as everyone else was clear. Ebony knew her technique was working and almost more importantly, she and Monster were having fun. She always had a pocket full of special treats and a carrot to reward his courage. The pair spent hours running back and forth over the jumps; Ebony laughing if Monster tripped or had a spook at nothing. Monster, clearly enjoying himself with tail up and ears forward, was dragging her towards the jumps by the end of the second week. He trotted ahead, so she was running her fastest to keep up, leaped half a meter over the little cross rail — sending Ebony tripping over it and hitting the sand behind him. He stopped on the other side, though, and ducked his head, waiting for his treat and a scratch behind the ear. Waiting for her.
By that Sunday, Ebony felt Monster was ready for a proper ride.
Her heart was pounding as Winnie swung her up into the saddle and Monster, now familiar with where his work place was located, tore off down the aisle of the barn towards the indoor.
Word had spread that Ebony was having another crack at schooling Monster over jumps, and there were dozens of faces watching from the lounge as she entered the indoor. Thankfully, the arena was empty, with the exception of Marcus, who was leant against the doorway to the office and lounge at the back of the arena.
Ebony nodded at him, then reached down, to check her girth was tight enough, and settled into warming Monster up.
He felt amazing beneath her, his canter like a powerful pogo stick — so full of strength to launch him into the air. Even though she could sense that she was closer to the ground than on Johnny, or even the tall, slender thoroughbred, Tootsie, it didn’t matter. She could feel the heart of this horse, bursting to please her and to succeed. It was an exciting feeling she got from this knowledge, the exact same feeling of safety as she’d had with Gallant.
