That wasn’t how the world worked and my mother had made me understand that from the earliest time. Nothing was made easy for me. My mother helped, but I had to do the majority of the work and the older I got, the more work I had to do on my own.
It was never expected that I was going to qualify because Butch wasn’t as good of an equitation horse as Nicole’s and I would never place above Greer. If Greer didn’t show, I didn’t go. During most of the spring Sans Egal was lame, so I had weeks of peace.
Rui thought Sans would come back sooner than he did and there was no point in starting on a new horse. That was partially right except Rui didn’t appreciate the deadline Greer was facing. He wasn’t from America and maybe it was just another horse show to him.
It would have been smarter to get a backup horse over the winter but no one thought of that, Greer least of all, since skiing and ski instructors had distracted her.
At home, while she was on the slopes in Vermont, Sans waited in the barn for her. Greer had done very well with him all last year. There was no reason to think this season would be any different.
Then, in March, Nicole rode into the ring on the push-button dreamboat, Taggart, and Greer found herself in an extreme predicament. The combination of Nicole who was about as perfect an equitation rider as anyone had seen in twenty years and the perfect horse made the team unbeatable. He was the perfect junior hunter, too. Greer didn’t have a hope against them so for four months she had been in a foul mood. She was supposed to win. Didn’t Nicole understand?
“Is he any good as a trainer?” Rogers asked as we left my room.
“We don’t even have horses.”
“None of the ones he sent for were any good?”
“Rogers. They’re fine, they’re just not a good match here. He’s very patient, he’s...”
“What? Hot?”
“No!”
“He’s not hot at all?” Rogers was disappointed.
“I’m not getting into this with you. He thinks. Lockie’s intuitive and intellectual about riding. It’s not so straightforward with him.”
Rogers stopped and looked at me. “I don’t know what the hell you’re saying.”
“Greer doesn’t get it either.”
We went down to the kitchen and helped Jules put the finishing touches on dinner. She was starting to move utensils, napkins and glasses to the large table on the terrace. Luckily, it was east facing so the sun wasn’t in our eyes at this time of day.
I was coming out with a basket of fresh rolls when Rogers gave me a poke in the ribs. “That’s him,” she whispered.
Looking up, I saw Lockie walking along the driveway. “I know.” I whispered back and returned to the house for the salad.
A moment later Lockie was at the doorway, holding the basket with the thermos and plaid napkin. “Thank you for lunch, Jules. It was delicious.” He gave me a smile. “It’s so unfortunate I won’t be here long to enjoy your cooking.”
“You’re welcome to come back any time for dinner once you leave,” Jules joked.
“That’s good to know,” he said.
“Go out on the terrace,” Jules suggested. “Find your places.”
“Do we have place cards?” I asked.
“Do you need one?” Lockie asked.
“As far away from you as I can get.”
“I guess I haven’t made a good impression on you.”
“No. You haven’t even apologized from this morning.”
“I’m sorry I called you a brat when you were acting like a brat,” Lockie said. “Where’s Greer?”
“Out with her friends,” I replied going to the table.
I didn’t realize how close to the surface my feelings about the last year of my mother’s life were. Even though it was six years ago, the experience was fresh and raw and painful and I felt the relief now for Lockie that I would have felt for her when her pain abated for a few hours. If he felt good enough to tease me, he was pain-free for a little while.
I wondered what kind of progress my father had made on acquiring his medical history. Some clues must have been in the paperwork Lockie filled out in order to work here. My father was a smart and resourceful man; with one critical piece of information, he could learn everything given enough time.
The three of us sat at the table.
“Lockie, this is my friend and classmate Rogers Kerr.”
She blushed.
“Hi, Rogers. Do you ride, too?”
She was making herself as small as she could in the chair. “Yes.” The reply was barely above a whisper.
“You’ll have to join us for a lesson some day.”
“Really?”
“Certainly. If I’m still here.”
“Maybe you’ll last,” I said, “if you can keep all your body parts where they belong.”
Quickly, he looked down, then looked back at me. “If any of my parts strays, can I depend on you to give me a heads up?”
“If I give you anything, it won’t be a heads up,” I replied.
My father exited from the house, moving rapidly as usual and sat down at the head of the table. He glanced at me and gave me a little nod.
“Rogers. It’s good to see you. Lockie. How are you?”
“Fine, sir.”
I saw a look pass over my father’s face. It was doubt. And gone just as I recognized it.
“I made some calls this afternoon,” Lockie began. “Greer is a very accomplished rider.”
“Yes, she is, but both of my daughters are,” my father said.
“That’s true. Our immediate crisis is the issue of Greer qualifying. It’s not going to happen.”
“She can still ride; she has a horse. It’s not like Talia’s situation.”
“The problem is two-fold. She doesn’t practice and the horse isn’t good enough to make up for what she lacks. Greer won’t place over Nicole Boisvert; that’s the reality.”
“I’ll talk to her.”
“She ran herself out of time,” Lockie replied. “If you want me to keep trying, I will. That’s my job or if you want to get someone else, I understand.”
I glanced at my father and he looked back at me.
“No, you’re staying,” my father said. “You signed a contract. You’re stuck.”
“I would hardly call it stuck,” Lockie replied. “And I think I have a solution. It doesn’t help in the short-term, Greer will not make it to the Kentucky Horse Park for the Maclay, or Harrisburg for the Medal. But she can do Florida and kick start next year.”
“How?”
“She’s fearless. I sent for a couple ami-owner jumpers for her to try out. If we get her one that’s made and one that’s in training, maybe we can keep her attention focused. Greer gets easily bored.”
“Boy, did you figure her out fast,” I said under my breath.
Lockie smiled at me.
“When are these horses arriving?
“They should be here tomorrow, sir.”
“Then we will have many new residents,” my father replied and did something he had never done to me before. He winked.
Chapter Seven
Rogers couldn’t talk about anything but Lockie on the way to the Thaden Theater. She wanted to take a lesson with him. Would that really be okay? I didn’t care and didn’t see why Greer would. What horse could Rogers ride? The barn was full of horses. Choose whatever size and color fit. She felt sort of paralyzed in his presence. Did I feel the same way? No. How was I able to speak to him? The same way I spoke to everyone else, by opening my mouth and forming sounds.
There was no line at the theater; there never was.
“What’s this movie about?” I asked as we stood at the counter to get her Junior Mints, lemonade and popcorn.
“The wife and mistress of an abusive headmaster plot to kill him,” Rogers replied.
“Not a comedy, then.”
“No! They drug him, then drown him.”
“Can you say overkill?”
&
nbsp; “Then he goes missing!”
“If you know everything about this movie, why are we here?”
I could have taken Butch on a trail ride. It was cool now that the sun had set; we could have gone down to the stream where standing in the water might have made his legs feel better.
“It’s a great classic! Besides, you can’t stay home all the time. When’s Josh coming back?”
Josh, the wannabe actor and boy friend, was doing summer stock because of the drama teacher’s connections with someone putting together a tour. At school, you expect nothing so Josh was the best actor we had. Alongside people who had more experience, I suspected he would not fare well by comparison. But it was what he wanted to do, so everyone said break a leg and off he went the day after the semester ended.
He called when and if he had the chance. I was more likely to get a text message telling me “In Dubuque, m gr8.”
“Soon. His parents’ anniversary is coming up and last I heard he’s doing The Mousetrap at The Olde Barn Playhouse.”
It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say I had never seen a play I enjoyed. The idea of sitting still for two hours with people in the distance, speaking in voices so they could be heard in the balcony didn’t appeal to me. That I would have to attend Josh’s performance and then pretend to be enthusiastic could be deleted from my to-do list without being missed.
Rogers picked up her a large container of old popcorn—they didn’t pop it fresh, I saw that it came in enormous plastic bags-with two pumps of fake butter on it and helped her with the rest. We walked into the theater and found seats in the exact center where Rogers preferred.
There were two trailers for the Hitchcock extravaganza scheduled next then the French film started. By the second talk-fest scene, I was asleep and didn’t wake up until the houselights came on and Rogers was poking me saying it was time to go home.
When she left me off at the house, the lights in the apartment were off.
I wondered how much it took out of Lockie to smile and hold up his end of all the conversations throughout dinner. It had to be exhausting.
***
The next morning, I was up early and had Butch on the aisle, pulling his mane while the stalls were being mucked. I wanted him to remain as handsome as he always was, with his whiskers and fetlocks trimmed. “Retirement doesn’t mean we let ourselves go,” I told him from my stand on the overturned bucket.
Lockie came up from behind us and put his hand on Butch’s neck. “You would make a good groom. How are you at braiding a tail?”
“Perfect,” I said truthfully.
“I don’t doubt that for a minute.”
“Did you have breakfast?”
“Yes. Jules made me a mushroom and cheese omelet and...bread.”
“That was brioche,” I supplied.
“Yes.” He laughed. “Is this how you always eat?”
“She’s a first class chef, I told you that.”
“Jules is like a member of your family, isn’t she?”
“She is.”
“Is she spoken for?”
“Are you interested in her?”
“No, just curious.”
“She was seeing someone for a while and he got a job at an all-organic restaurant in Westchester County.”
“That’s not far from here.”
I wrapped a few strands of mane around the comb and yanked. “If that’s all it took to end the relationship then it couldn’t have been very serious, could it?”
“I would say not.” Lockie stood still for a moment. “I hear a van, maybe your next test drives have arrived.”
“Maybe.”
Stepping off the bucket, I followed him outside. Lockie recognized the maroon and white van immediately. Then it stopped in front of the barn. The Ruhlmann’s Golden Ratio Farm Orchardiana, KY was lettered on the side.
The driver got out of the truck and came around to our side.
“Hi, Lockie, how’re ya doin’?”
“I’m doing very well. Why are you here?”
“I was told to bring you a horse, so I did.” The short, middle-aged man opened the door, pulled out the ramp and went inside.
A moment later, he led a mahogany bay gelding down the ramp, and handed Lockie the lead rope.
“I don’t understand.”
I didn’t think Lockie could have been more confused.
“I’m just the stable help. Pat told me to drive him up here and we left last night.”
Wingspread was a stunning horse, standing close to seventeen hands with a glistening dark red-brown coat and a head as classically beautiful as I had ever seen. He was lean and elegant, just like his trainer.
“Do you want breakfast?” Lockie asked. “A shower? A nap?”
“I ate on the road and have to be back, since we have a show to get to. Good luck with Wing, he always liked you best.”
“Thank you,” I said to the driver. “If you could stop at the house, it would be good for you to have a word with my father.”
“Sure thing.”
I knew my father would have an envelope for him.
“Glad to see you again, Lock, but stay up north. You know you’re too good to compete against us.”
“You’re the consummate BS-er, as always,” Lockie replied with a smile as the man closed up the van, went around the front and got inside.
Lockie looked to me. “Talia? Is there an explanation?”
“You said he’d be perfect for me.”
He held out the lead rope to me but I didn’t move.
“You made such a big deal about how wonderful he is but now that I see him in person, he doesn’t appeal to me at all. You keep him,” I said and turned back to the barn.
“Tali?”
“You need a horse, don’t you?” I didn’t look back. I couldn’t trust myself.
Butch’s stall was done so I unclipped him and led him back inside. There was fresh water and hay. He would be fine for hours.
There was the sound of metal shoes on the aisle then they stopped.
I gave Butch’s nose a kiss and turned.
“I want to talk to you.”
“If it’s anything important, my morning’s full. Maybe later this afternoon or tomorrow.” I went out onto the aisle and closed the stall door.
“What else did you do?”
“I didn’t do anything and that’s the truth.”
“What did you set in motion?”
I shrugged.
“Is Butch sound?”
“He seems fine.”
“Let’s hack to the stream and let them stand in the water for a while. Wing’s legs are a little stocked up from all the hours in the van. Then you can tell me what you didn’t do.”
“Okay.”
Twenty minutes later, we were in the stream that ran through the woods, with the horses knee deep in running water. I leaned forward and lay down on Butch’s neck, closing my eyes. It felt so peaceful.
“Talia, tell me what else you did.”
I lifted my head and turned so I was facing him then lay back down on Butch’s neck.
“He’s like your pet pony,” Lockie said.
I smiled. “I love how he smells, so clean and fresh. His coat is soft and I feel close to him out here.”
“You can ride Wing until we find you a horse. He’s still perfect for you.”
“No.”
“Why not? Butch isn’t the only horse for you.”
“Wing is perfect for you.”
“How do you know?”
“Your energy is the same. You’re even built alike.”
“I’m not going to be riding much.”
“Maybe that will change.”
“Is that what you did?”
“My father did. He found you a specialist. You’ll go, you’ll be taken care of. Let my father do what he’s really good at.”
“I don’t...”
“It’s not for you, it’s for me.”
“How is it for
you?”
I sat up and steered Butch for home. “I can’t stand to see anyone in pain.”
Chapter Eight
Greer was in her normal mood when we reached the barn.
“Is that my new horse?” She asked eyeing Wingspread covetously.
“That’s Lockie’s horse,” I replied throwing my right leg over Butch’s neck and sliding down to the ground.
“I need a horse,” Greer said all but stamping her feet and demanding Cocoa Puffs.
“There are four horses coming momentarily for you both to try out,” Lockie said as he dismounted.
“This one is a good one, why can’t I ride it?”
“Because it’s an event horse and you don’t do combined training,” I replied leading Butch past her. “You need an equitation horse or...”
“Greer, I want to talk to you about your immediate future,” Lockie began.
“Well?”
Like you don’t have one, I thought bringing Butch into the wash stall. He would have been sweating under the saddle pad and a quick rinse would make him more comfortable.
“You’re not going to qualify,” Lockie said.
I wasn’t sure if Greer said anything or if she was just screaming.
“You don’t take this process seriously,” Lockie said into the wailing.
“I need a better horse!”
“You need to work. You missed your lesson yesterday, and it’s almost noon and you’re just now dragging yourself out of bed. I’m sure Nicole has already put in two hours on her horses and will put in another two once it cools off.”
“You are so fired,” Greer shouted at him.
I stepped out of the wash stall to confront her. “Run that by Dad and see how it flies.”
Greer shrieked at me, rushed out of the barn and headed toward the house.
“That went well,” Lockie said calmly.
“Do you feel okay?” I took the hose off the wall.
“Yes, what can I do for you?”
“Nothing. I just didn’t want Greer’s temper tantrum to give you a headache.”
“No, she didn’t.”
I laughed. “Aren’t you lucky? She gave me one.” I sprayed the water on Butch’s back and between his legs, then hung up the hose. The excess water was removed from his coat by the sweat scraper, and I was ready to put him away.
Bittersweet Farm 1: Mounted Page 4
