Joey

by Jennifer Bleakley

  Sarah had been excited with the decision until now. It had been so long since she had been on a horse that she wasn’t sure she was the best candidate.

  “You’ve got this, Sarah,” Lauren said. “You have a ton of experience riding, and Joey has a ton of experience carrying a rider. Hold the reins loosely, and I’ll lead him around the arena.”

  Lauren clucked her tongue and the trio began to move. The moment Sarah felt Joey’s muscles move beneath her, her fear faded away. He moved so gracefully, so sure-footedly. You’re remarkable, Joey. It was just a walk—and a slow one at that—but she was riding!

  “How’s it feel?” Lauren asked.

  “Divine!” Sarah answered, feeling more free than she had in months.

  Lauren led Joey around the arena three times before pronouncing him a natural. Sarah agreed completely. After the two women returned the tack to the shed and Joey to his field, they ran to tell Kim and Barb the good news: Joey was available to ride in sessions.

  Two weeks later, Aly was back for another evening session. The five-year-old’s gaze remained fixed on the ground as Sarah greeted her outside the office where the session leaders had met earlier to pray. Sarah had grown to appreciate those prayer times for the kids and the sessions. God seemed more than willing to answer those prayers.

  But more than anything, Sarah wanted Aly to live with the exuberance that the other children couldn’t contain as they laughed and ran around. Sarah believed the key for Aly was freeing her voice. Joey had begun to thrive, enjoying his life as a horse again. With his help, Sarah was convinced that Aly could learn to be a little girl again.

  “Guess what?” Sarah said excitedly. “I have a surprise for you today.”

  Aly tried to peek behind Sarah’s back, where she was clearly hiding something. “Ta-da!” Sarah whipped her hand in front of her, revealing a white riding helmet. “Joey would like to give you a ride!”

  Aly’s look, though guarded, was one of contained joy. Sarah could see the hint of a dimple forming in her cheek.

  “So what do you say? You want to go for a ride?”

  Aly nodded decisively. It was not her first time riding, just her first time on Joey. Sarah had made sure there were no surprises for Joey. She had saddled up Joey for a while yesterday, and he didn’t mind at all. Now Sarah went through each step with Aly—putting on the saddle pad, saddle, and bridle, and attaching the reins. Out of the corner of her eye, Sarah could see that Aly was taking everything in. The little girl placed the helmet on her head but needed help fastening it under her chin. Once it was secure, Sarah handed Joey’s lead rope to Aly.

  “Go ahead and lead your horse. I’ll walk right beside you.”

  Aly proudly led Joey to the round pen. They entered the small enclosure, and Sarah pointed to the four-step mounting block, which Aly used to get closer to Joey’s back. Joey stood perfectly still as the young girl put her left boot in the left stirrup. Then Sarah lifted her up the rest of the way onto the saddle. Aly quickly found the right stirrup as she wiggled into position on the leather seat. Sarah handed the reins to Aly, showing her how to hold them loosely. Normally, the reins were attached to a bit bridle to control a horse, but Sarah had chosen a bitless bridle for Aly so that the little girl could use the reins to hold on to while Sarah controlled Joey with the lead line.

  “Does everything feel okay?” Sarah asked, shortening up the stirrups.

  Aly nodded her head. Sarah started Joey at a slow pace, and almost immediately an adorable toothless smile lit up Aly’s face.

  “Aly, I’m just going to walk Joey around the pen for a while. We want him to feel really comfortable in here. Since he can’t see, he needs to be able to feel and hear where he is in the pen. The more we practice with him, the more he’ll get used to it. I think he feels safe knowing that I’m leading him and that you are on his back.”

  Aly’s brow was furrowed in concentration. Sarah admired the small rider’s determination to help Joey learn his way around the pen. They had a job to do together. As they walked the inside perimeter of the pen, Sarah caught Cindy standing at the fence, watching her daughter ride. The look of joy on Cindy’s face was rivaled only by Aly’s.

  Sarah was impressed by the young girl’s riding posture—back straight, shoulders lowered, arms relaxed. Textbook form. Joey seemed eager to pick up the pace a little, so Sarah increased her speed by half walking, half jogging. After two trips around, sweat started to bead on her forehead and she was slightly out of breath, so Sarah slowed Joey to a walk again. Could Joey be taught lunging without being able to see me? She didn’t know. That would be a challenge for another day.

  Aly sat comfortably in the saddle, with a wide smile. “You are a very good rider, Aly,” Sarah said as she helped her down at the end of the last lap and unstrapped her helmet. “Did you like that?”

  Aly nodded enthusiastically.

  “Let’s take Joey over to the hitching post, so we can take the tack off and cool him down.”

  As Sarah loosened the cinch on the saddle, she kept talking. “Joey did well today too. I bet one day he might even be able to be ridden without someone having to lead him. What do you think?”

  Aly’s smile got even bigger.

  “Well, big guy, Aly agrees. One day you are going to carry a rider all by yourself. What do you think about that?”

  Joey nickered and stomped his foot. And a moment later, Sarah heard a small, whispered laugh.

  Sarah and Aly led Joey back to his paddock, where Speckles was waiting.

  “Let’s go find your mom,” Sarah said, smiling as Aly’s hand raised in a timid good-bye wave to Joey.

  Cindy met them halfway to the office and gave Aly a big hug. Sarah could tell Aly welcomed the embrace.

  “You went for a ride on Joey!” Cindy exclaimed, picking her daughter up and swinging her around. “How was it? Did Joey do a good job?”

  As Cindy lowered Aly back to the ground, Sarah hoped the little girl would tell her mother about her ride, if for no other reason than to hear her voice.

  A nod was the only answer given. Although Aly’s bright eyes showed her excitement, Sarah was disappointed. Still, she tried to focus on what the little girl had just accomplished.

  “Aly and Joey both did a great job. Aly is a natural in the saddle, and Joey really trusts her.” Sarah bent down to look Aly in the eye. “I am so proud of you.”

  Aly looked up at her mother, her eyes shining with delight.

  Cindy twirled her daughter’s ponytail. “Oh, Aly, I am so proud of you too.”

  The little girl whispered something to her mom. Cindy laughed and gave her a little squeeze. “Yes, I am proud of Joey, too. He is a very good horse.”

  Sarah was glad the session went well and was overjoyed that Aly had gotten to ride Joey. She’s connecting well with Joey. Shy as Aly was, she was caring for him and building trust with him. Sarah knew from experience how long of a process building trust could be.

  CHAPTER 12

  “KIM, THERE SIMPLY ISN’T enough money to keep things going past next month,” said Allin. Barb’s husband glanced at the other board members sitting in Kim and Mike’s family room before continuing.

  “Aside from charging for sessions—” Allin put his hand up before Kim could protest. She closed her mouth and tried to relax while Allin had the floor. “Aside from charging for sessions, which I know you are strongly against, and I respect that, a fund-raiser—and a fund-raiser sooner than later—is the only way to get the influx of cash the ranch needs.”

  Kim straightened up. “Okay,” she began. “I know that we need to think about holding a major event. But it takes money to make money. Money that we don’t actually have. Where would we even begin? Our kickoff event was certainly not cheap, and we were constantly worried about the weather, remember?” She glanced at Lori, who together with Kim had almost worn out her weather app during the weeks leading up to that grand opening.

  “Maybe we can hold it off the ranch?” Lori sugge
sted. “We could contact different venues to see if they would consider donating space. If they hear about the ministry, they might be open to that. And then we wouldn’t have to worry about the weather.”

  “Possibly someone might be willing to cut us a deal on catering,” added Kathy, a retired psychologist and friend of Lori’s.

  Ben, a friend and work colleague of Mike’s, stood up from the love seat to stretch. “It would be nice to have photographs of the horses and ranch to show the people who come, to give them an idea of what you all do.”

  Ideas, suggestions, and possibilities were tossed around for the next twenty minutes. With each one, Kim’s fear and frustration built, until her head began to throb. Finally, Allin called for the meeting to be adjourned. “But I encourage each one of you to pray during the week for wisdom about this matter. See you next week.”

  Kim certainly prayed. In fact, she felt as though she prayed for little else that week. She researched fund-raising ideas, discussed various ideas and thoughts with friends not associated with the ranch, and made countless lists of possibilities. Nothing like a list to bring order to chaos! But there was no order to be found.

  Each place she called was sympathetic to her situation and inspired by the ministry, but they were all either booked solid through the holidays or unable to lower the prices. It was mid-November, and she was competing with company events that had been planned at least a year before.

  And even if a venue opened up, would anyone want to donate so close to Christmas? The odds were not looking good.

  With the follow-up board meeting scheduled the next evening, Kim sat in the Hope Reins office, looking at a sheet of paper in front of her. It was the list of possible venues, every one with a line through it. “Lord, why are you being so silent? Why would you bring us this far only to let us lose it all?” Kim prayed her lament out loud.

  The ranch was quiet, now that the last volunteers had left. Kim tossed her pen on the table and got up. Time to walk. The sun seemed to be setting rapidly; the time change meant there were no more evening sessions until the spring. They couldn’t conduct sessions in the dark.

  Grateful for the warmer-than-usual weather, Kim headed straight for paddock two without even thinking. Joey had that effect on people, drawing them like a magnet. A moment later she was beside the handsome black-and-white horse, who was standing near the hay box.

  “Hey, Joey,” Kim announced her presence, certain that the intuitive horse already knew she was there.

  She rubbed her hand along his side, lingering on several of his spots.

  “How are you, baby?” she asked, a lump rising in her throat at the thought of what would happen to the blind horse if they couldn’t figure out a way to raise the needed funds.

  She looked across the paddock to Speckles. He was just starting to make real progress. What would happen to him? Who would want to care for him? Each of the Hope Reins horses was her responsibility.

  As her anxiety began to rise, Kim forced herself to breathe in through her nose and out through her mouth. Her fingers began to tingle. Slow down and sit down. But where? A late afternoon drizzle had left the ground muddy between the piles of manure. Back to the office? Just the thought of it made her heart rate quicken. And then . . . it dawned on her: Joey and Speckles’ hay box. She climbed in, sat cross-legged, and closed her eyes.

  Inhale.

  Exhale.

  Inhale.

  Exhale.

  Suddenly a large nose pushed against her cheek. Oh! She opened her eyes and stared at Joey, who was intent on finding out what large, delicious treat was in his feedbox.

  “Sorry, boy,” Kim apologized, reaching out to stroke his chin. “Hope you don’t mind.”

  She gave the curious horse a handful of hay, which he eagerly took. She absently stroked his upper leg as he chewed.

  “What is going to happen to you if I can’t figure this out? What’s going to happen to all of you? To the kids? To this place?” A tear made its way down her cheek. “You are doing so well here, Joey. You connected with Ethan and little Aly. You’ve been a friend to Speckles, and—” she turned to look at him—“you’ve provided such comfort to me. If only people could see what you do, what goes on here, and get a glimpse of true hope, then maybe . . .” Her words trailed off, crowded out by an idea.

  Have it here.

  The words were not audible, but they were extremely clear.

  Have what here? Kim pondered for a moment. The fund-raiser? But how? It would cost too much. It’s getting cold. It might rain. It’s getting too close to Christmas.

  And yet, in spite of every reason she threw out for why it wouldn’t work, she felt a flood of peace wash over her. While sitting in the hay box, Kim began to talk it out with Joey.

  “Well, what if we did have it here? It would definitely give people a chance to see firsthand what we do. We wouldn’t have to pay anything for the space. We could ask volunteers and board members to bring food, and even do s’mores in the fire pit. We could reuse a lot of the kickoff event decorations and ask people for the rest. The only thing we can’t control,” she said, looking at the sun dipping below the tree line, “is the weather.”

  Joey reached around her to grab another mouthful of hay, which got Speckles’ attention. He warily approached the hay box, not too sure about joining this party. Kim watched the dynamics of the two. The trust they had built with each other was astounding.

  Trust.

  The word seemed to float in front of Kim, like a feather waiting to be snatched in midair.

  It was a concept Kim wrestled with daily. But what other choice did she have? If God was leading them to have the fund-raiser at the ranch, then she would just have to trust him to control all the things she couldn’t.

  There was no denying that he had proven himself pretty trustworthy so far.

  “We can do this,” Allin said, sitting at Kim and Mike’s kitchen table the next evening. The board members were enjoying the cookies Lori had brought. “Sure, it’s a little risky with the weather and all, but we can always plan for a rain date and advertise it as a casual fund-raising dinner/Christmas party.”

  “We could put Santa hats on the horses,” Kathy suggested with a laugh.

  “I love it!” Kim exclaimed.

  The ideas flowed nonstop for the next hour. Lists were made and assignments handed out. Kim, who had been dreading the idea of a large-scale fund-raiser, found this new idea both exciting and manageable. There was no doubt in her mind that it would be fun. But would it be a success? Would they raise all the money they needed to keep the ranch going?

  CHAPTER 13

  “COME BACK, YOU BIG OL’ THIEF!” Lauren yelled as she chased after Speckles.

  The horse, obviously experiencing some reprieve from pain, galloped away from her at full speed, carrying something in his teeth.

  This was not the first time she’d had to chase him down. Several months earlier, he had taken off with a rake that had been left behind in his field. He had looked ridiculous running through the paddock with it in his mouth. It had taken Lauren forever to catch him.

  Last month, he had snatched a burlap wreath—adorned with various-shaped gourds—off the tack shed door. The tempting Thanksgiving-themed decoration was irresistible. Thankfully, Lauren had been holding his lead line at the time, so he didn’t get very far with the booty.

  But this was a different story. Speckles had added vandalism to his rap sheet—he had a truck’s side-view mirror clenched between his teeth!

  The mirror had been dangling from a volunteer’s truck, temporarily duct-taped in place. Obviously, the tape had lost its stickiness. Lauren hadn’t noticed it when she and Speckles were taking their usual morning walk. But someone else did.

  Speckles seemed to love these walks—the unhurried pace, the meandering paths, the time alone. It was evident that Speckles enjoyed Joey’s companionship, and yet the blind horse did place a lot of demands on Speckles—constant nickering to ascertain wher
e Speckles was located, a lack of concern for personal space, and nervous pacing during storms. Lauren had come to realize that even the most patient of caregivers needed a break every once in a while. As much as he loved Joey, Speckles was no exception.

  Lauren had allowed Speckles to lead the way this morning, and he quickly wandered over to the miniature horses, Hope and Josie. Technically, wander wasn’t the right word. Speckles all but dragged Lauren over to their pen. Lauren suspected her boy had a bit of a crush on Josie, but unfortunately for him, his love went unrequited. After ignoring Speckles’ wooing rituals—teeth baring, tail raising, and compulsive neighing—Josie moved to the other side of her pen. Dejected by her lack of interest, Speckles sauntered over to the parking lot, where he sniffed at the gravel, picked at some leaves, and then reached up and tore the mirror off!

  Duct tape has a distinctive sound when it is ripped, and it got Lauren’s attention. When she realized what Speckles had done, she dropped the lead rope and tried to gently take the mirror from Speckles’ mouth. That was when he bolted. For a horse with significant knee problems, he could move surprisingly fast. And Lauren, struggling with her own knee problems that day, was no match for the horse.

  Speckles ran toward the round pen, then veered right and headed toward his paddock to show Joey his most recent plunder. He stopped by the gate and gave a muffled snort, impeded by the large mirror between his lips. The message, however, was clearly understood by Joey, who trotted right over to him to investigate the strange object in his buddy’s mouth.

  That’s when Lauren made her move.

  “Gotcha,” Lauren panted, placing a hand on Speckles’ back, before bending over to catch her breath. “You . . .” she said, rubbing his side, “are one fast thief.”

  Speckles looked at her defiantly. To keep him from bolting again, Lauren quickly pulled a treat out of her pocket.

  “Trade you the mirror for a carrot?” she suggested, wagging the treat under his mouth.