by Suzanne Weyn
“Really?” Taylor asked.
“A whole birthday party of little kids will be arriving,” Daphne confirmed. “I’m going to take them to the upper pasture so they don’t bother Dana.”
“Cool,” Taylor said, knowing that any new business was good for Wildwood.
They watched together in silence for another minute as Prince Albert carried Dana along steadily. “He does well with Dana, doesn’t he,” Daphne remarked, her eyes following Prince Albert in the corral.
Nodding, Taylor turned toward her. “Why won’t he do that with other riders?”
Daphne shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“It’s as though he knows how much Dana loves and needs him,” Taylor suggested. “She fell in love with Prince Albert the moment she saw him.”
“I remember her first day here,” Daphne recalled. “She wouldn’t ride any other horse.”
“I know.”
The sound of hoofbeats coming from the stable made Daphne and Taylor turn. Looking elegant in her English riding gear, Plum rode Shafir out the front door. “Shafir’s training is coming along well,” Daphne noted. “She’s such a good horse now. Remember what a wild filly she was when Mrs. Ross first sent her over to us?”
“I do remember,” Taylor agreed. “You and Mercedes have done a great job training her.”
“Thanks. The hardest part has been keeping Plum from ruining her.”
“I hid her shank chain in some hay,” Taylor said with a mischievous smile.
Daphne grinned. “Oh, good for you! I can just picture her looking everywhere for it. You’re hilarious.”
“I hate that thing,” Taylor added seriously. The shank chain was a chain added to the mouthpiece of a halter used to yank a horse’s head down if the animal won’t behave. Taylor supposed it might have its place in the training of a difficult horse, but Plum used it to excess, and she pulled hard and abruptly. Whenever she pulled the chain on lovely, high-spirited Shafir, Taylor could barely control her anger.
Two minivans pulled in and both were filled with four- and five-year-old boys and girls. “I could use some help with these guys. Are you doing anything?” Daphne asked.
“No. I’ll go get a helmet and meet you up in the pasture. I hope Plum isn’t riding up there.”
“Speaking of Plum, I wonder if she said something to upset Mercedes,” Daphne mentioned.
“Why do you say that?”
“I just left Mercedes in the stable watering the horses, and she looks all bummed. When I asked what was wrong, she just told me it was nothing.”
“Typical Mercedes.” The girl had always been pretty secretive.
“I know,” Daphne agreed.
Taylor leaped lightly down from the fence. “I’ll see what I can find out,” she said, heading toward the main building that housed the stable.
As Taylor entered the shady coolness of the stable’s central aisle, she breathed in the musky smell of horse sweat and droppings mingled with the scent of hay. It was an odor she adored because it meant she was at Wildwood Stables, her favorite place on earth.
Glancing to her left, Taylor saw Mrs. LeFleur in her office studying a large notebook of the ranch’s accounts. She didn’t look happy. Taylor wished things were easier for Mrs. LeFleur. Why couldn’t she be wealthy like her cousin Devon Ross? It didn’t seem fair.
A few paces farther down, she stuck her head into the tack room and grabbed a velvet riding helmet from a hook. She smiled at Spots. The tiny fawn slept contentedly, its spindly legs tucked underneath its belly.
Stepping out of the tack room once again, Taylor checked around for Mercedes but didn’t see her anywhere.
Then she heard a sniffling sound coming from Prince Albert’s stall.
Following it, she found Mercedes sitting on the stall floor with her head down. It took a moment for Taylor to realize that Mercedes was crying. Taylor knew Mercedes would be embarrassed to be discovered like this; she always put up such a tough exterior. Taylor intentionally kicked the side of the stable with her riding boot to give the girl warning that she was there.
“Who’s there?” Mercedes asked in an unsteady voice.
It surprised Taylor that Mercedes wasn’t even attempting to cover up the tears in her voice.
“It’s just me. Are you okay?” she asked.
Mercedes didn’t answer. Taylor heard another sniff as she went into Prince Albert’s stall. She sat on the straw-covered floor beside Mercedes. “Did Plum do something?” she asked gently.
With her eyes fixed on the ground, Mercedes nodded. “Her mother is thinking of buying Monty for her.”
“Where did you hear that?” Taylor asked.
“Mom got a call from Devon Ross last night. It seems Monty’s registration papers have been lost, and she wanted to know if my mother has a copy of them.”
“Does she?” Taylor asked.
Mercedes shook her head. “No. I took them.”
“You have them?”
“Yeah. But Mom doesn’t know. She’s been looking everywhere.”
“You’re not going to tell her you have them?”
“If I don’t tell her it will slow down the process of buying Monty.”
“Can’t she trace Monty’s registration through the Fox Trotting Association?”
“Probably,” Mercedes agreed. “But I’m going to do anything I can to delay this.” Her face scrunched into an expression of deep unhappiness. “Oh, Taylor, I couldn’t stand to see her on Monty. It’s bad enough we have to watch her push Shafir and hit her and not groom her properly. Even if she treated Monty well, I couldn’t bear to see her on him.”
“Did Mrs. Ross tell your mom that she was definitely selling Monty to Plum’s mother?” Taylor asked.
Mercedes looked up thoughtfully. “Not exactly, I guess, but she must be selling him. Why else would she need his papers?”
“Lots of reasons,” Taylor said, brightening. “Why would you think it was Plum who wanted Monty?”
“Because she told me just now.” Mercedes nodded sadly. “Plum said her mother was there the other day to look at Monty. Remember? We saw her. That’s why they had you ride him.”
“Well, I’m sure I didn’t show him off too well,” Taylor said, trying to be encouraging. “I’m such a beginner at English style. I could make even the best horse look bad.”
“Thanks, but you did fine. And — no offense — but Monty could make even the worst rider look good. You know how great he is,” Mercedes replied.
Taylor knew it was true. Monty was, by nature, a smart and responsive horse, and Mercedes had trained him beautifully. “If she buys Monty, Plum might board him here. That would be a good thing, wouldn’t it?” Taylor offered as a possible consolation.
Mercedes stood, brushing straw from her jeans. “No, it wouldn’t. I couldn’t stand to see it.”
“You could protect him from her, watch over him,” Taylor insisted. She knew how Mercedes felt, though. When she’d thought Plum was going to buy Prince Albert she’d been almost sick with worry. “Shafir is doing all right even though she’s leasing him,” Taylor reminded Mercedes. “We’re making sure Plum doesn’t ride her too hard, and if she doesn’t groom her properly we do it.”
“Plum still mistreats Shafir,” Mercedes grumbled. “Look, I know I said I’d work with you on your jumping, but I’ve got to get out of here. If I run into Plum again … it won’t be good.”
“What would you do?” Taylor asked nervously.
“I don’t know. That’s why I have to leave.”
Up you go,” Taylor sang out as she swung a small boy with wild blond curly hair into Pixie’s saddle. “Hold on to the saddle.”
Daphne stood at Pixie’s head holding the reins. “Ready?” she asked the boy.
“The pony looks like me,” he noted happily. “We have the same hair.”
“Yes, you do,” Taylor agreed. She smiled and stroked Pixie’s frizzy white-blonde mane. “Look at that.”
“Th
at’s funny,” Daphne said, yawning widely.
“Are you getting tired?” Taylor asked. This was the seventh of the eleven young party guests to take a walking tour of the pasture astride Pixie. “I could take him around while you stay with the kids.”
“Honestly, I could use a break,” Daphne admitted. “What are you doing with them while they wait?”
Taylor came forward and took the reins from Daphne. “I’m telling them facts about horses, but they’re really little, so I’m also having them pretend to trot around and make clopping noises with their mouths and hands.”
Daphne rolled her eyes as she smiled. “On second thought, I think it might be easier to take Pixie around the pasture.”
“Too late,” Taylor teased with a laugh. “I have the reins now.”
“I’ll remember that. You tricked me,” Daphne said as she headed toward the rest of the party. An anxious-looking mother of the birthday girl nervously tried to keep all the guests together in a group.
“Okay, here we go,” Taylor told the boy in the saddle. “We’re taking a pony ride.” She turned her attention to Pixie and clucked. “Walk on, girl.”
The little Shetland moved forward obediently as Taylor led her in a wide oval path around the pasture. A breeze swept across the rough grass, causing a ripple. For a moment it reminded Taylor of the surface of nearby Mohegan Lake when a wind crossed it. The red and orange leaves on the trees in the woods beyond the pasture were also stirred by the chilly air current and made Taylor aware of the nip in the air.
This morning before she left the house, Taylor had tucked a yellow hand-knit scarf into the neckline of her jean jacket. Now she took a moment to pull it more tightly around her neck. The weather was changing fast. If it was this cool now, what would the night be like?
The stable wasn’t heated. Of course the body heat from the other horses and the warmth from the hay would keep the cold off for a while. And the horses were sheltered from the wind.
Taylor knew that horses in the wild lived outside and endured long, cold winters in some places. But Pixie and Prince Albert weren’t wild. And Pixie was an older pony. She didn’t like to think of them shivering, uncovered in their stalls. If only she had a job that paid money — but then, when would she have the time to work at Wildwood Stables as partial payment for their board?
Smiling at the boy in the all-purpose saddle, Taylor checked that he was holding the front of it tightly and wasn’t sliding. “Having fun?” she asked.
The boy’s head bobbed up and down gleefully.
With a nod, Taylor glanced at Daphne and smiled at the line of galloping preschoolers that Daphne was leading. Leading Pixie was definitely the easier job.
Taylor had nearly completed her course when she saw Eric approaching the field on Jojo. They cantered up to the fence near Taylor. “I got some great horse stuff from my friend,” he told Taylor excitedly. “When you’re finished here, come down to the stable. I have a surprise for you.”
* * *
“This is too awesome!” Taylor said as she ripped open the cellophane wrapper covering a blue-and-purple-plaid horse blanket. “Are you sure you only paid ten dollars for this?”
“Yep,” Eric confirmed with a satisfied grin.
“Wow!” Taylor spread the horse sheet out across the door of Prince Albert’s stall. “He’ll be warm in this. Thanks so much for getting it. Can I pay you tomorrow? I have the money at home.”
Next to Prince Albert’s stall she’d spread out the smaller gray blanket Eric had brought for Pixie. He’d also bought horse shampoo, treats, vitamins, and a hoof cream. “I can’t believe they were getting rid of all this,” Taylor mused.
“My friend said they have to make way for new inventory, so they sell it to the employees cheap, and he sells it to me for the price he pays,” Eric explained.
“It’s lucky to have a friend like that,” Taylor said as she screwed open a bottle of the shampoo and sniffed it. Liking the smell, she wondered if it would work well on her own hair. She’d heard some riders say that they used horse shampoo on themselves.
Eric reached into the large plastic bag he’d brought the new horse items in. “I know you’re insisting on paying for your share of everything else,” he said, “but not this.” He pulled a large box from the bag. “This is from me to you.”
A present? Eric had gotten her a gift?
Taylor fought against the color she felt rising in her cheeks. From the heat on her face, she suspected she was losing the battle.
Eric handed her the box. “It’s no big deal,” he said, not meeting her gaze.
“A new grooming kit,” Taylor cried, examining the box. An expression of delight swept her face. “You knew I needed this.”
“Yeah,” Eric agreed.
“I should pay you for this,” Taylor said, suddenly feeling awkward. He’d gotten her a gift, and it wasn’t her birthday or anything.
“I said it was from me to you,” Eric insisted, still not meeting her eyes. “Besides, I got it at a … you know … a discount.”
“Still …” Taylor waited for him to look at her. “Thank you. Thanks a lot.”
They looked at each other for another moment that felt much longer than it was. The corners of Eric’s mouth turned up into a slight smile.
“Prince Albert is done with his lesson,” Eric said at last, turning toward the open door at the front of the stable. “And Jojo is still saddled. Want to work with them some more?”
Taylor was happy to hear him speak as if nothing had happened. “Sure,” she said, setting down the grooming kit. “But aren’t you — aren’t you nervous … after what happened last time and all?”
Eric grinned. “I don’t mind falling. The only thing that has me nervous is Mrs. LeFleur making a big deal over it again.”
That made Taylor smile. “She was just concerned.”
“I know.”
“Mercedes was going to work with me on my jumps this afternoon, but she had to go home,” Taylor said.
“That’s right. The event is this weekend, isn’t it?” Eric recalled. “Do you feel ready for it?”
“Not exactly. But I’ve been practicing, and I haven’t knocked down any of the rails all this week.”
“Would you rather practice now?” Eric asked.
It occurred to Taylor that maybe she ought to be practicing, but she’d so much rather be doing something with Eric. “No. Let’s work with Prince Albert and Jojo while we’re both here,” Taylor said, and they started walking toward the front. “We have to think of some way to get them to cooperate.”
“But how?” Eric asked. “I went online to see if I could learn something about this problem, but I couldn’t find anything.”
“Daphne once showed me that if you breathe into a horse’s nostrils the horse gets to know you,” Taylor suggested.
“All right,” Eric said. “We can try that first. It might even settle Prince Albert down about not liking guys.”
“I don’t know,” Taylor said doubtfully. “I’d hate for you to get hurt again.”
“I won’t,” Eric said. “But I’m definitely wearing a helmet, just in case. You should, too.”
“I always do,” Taylor said honestly.
They went to the tack room to find helmets and then headed outside. Jojo, Prince Albert, and Pixie were all in the corral, still saddled and grazing on patches of higher grass that grew around the fence posts. Eric approached Prince Albert and glanced over at Taylor. “Do we just stand in front and breathe?” he checked.
“Yeah,” Taylor confirmed as she walked around to face Jojo. “That’s all that Daphne did. But maybe we should pet them a bit first.”
Taylor swept her hand along Jojo’s broad flank. “Hi, big fella,” she crooned gently. “It’s me, Taylor. You’ve seen me around. I want us to be friends. Do you think I could ride you today? Would that be all right? I’m Eric’s friend, and he says it’s all right with him.”
Prince Albert’s frenzied whinny d
rew Taylor’s attention from Jojo. Her horse danced away from Eric’s attempts to pet him. He stomped his front hoofs in an intimidating protest whenever Eric tried to approach him.
“Prince Albert! Stop!” Taylor scolded firmly. She turned to Eric. “This isn’t going to work,” she said. “He was all right with you as long as you didn’t try to touch him.”
Before Eric could reply, they were both distracted by the sound of an approaching car. It was actually two cars, one following behind the other, and she thought she recognized the second car.
It was Devon Ross’s sporty BMW.
Taylor glanced over to Eric and their eyes met, silently asking the same question. What was Devon Ross doing at Wildwood Stables?
The driver of the first car — a silver van — parked along the round corral but didn’t get out.
Devon Ross pulled up to the main building and threw open the driver’s side door. The tall, thin woman was elegantly dressed in a beige pantsuit with a brown suede jacket over her shoulders. Her dark hair was pulled back severely from her angular face and clasped at the nape of her neck. It was the only style Taylor had ever seen her wear. The owner of Ross River Ranch strode into the main building with confidence.
What was going on? Taylor burned to know.
Could she go into the office on some pretext to eavesdrop? Maybe she’d hear a snippet of conversation that would reveal what was happening.
Taylor peered through the lightly tinted glass of the parked van. A man’s form was visible in the driver’s seat, but she couldn’t see him clearly. He was reaching into the backseat for something.
Eric was also trying to see into the vehicle’s window. Turning back to Taylor, he shrugged. “Want to do the breathing thing now?” he asked, apparently having lost interest in the visitors.
With a nod of agreement, Taylor turned to face Jojo. After running her hand comfortingly down his muzzle and speaking to him soothingly, Taylor inhaled deeply. Jojo’s nostrils flared slightly as Taylor blew softly into them. His ears perked forward with interest. “That’s a good boy,” Taylor praised him. “We can be friends.”
