“He’s probably due to eat,” Christine said.
Bethann nodded and yawned.
“And you look like you could use a nap.” She smoothed her daughter’s hair back off her face. “We’re going to get going.” She glanced at Mindy, who promptly gathered all the almonds off her tea plate and popped them into her mouth, drank her tea, and stood to leave.
“Call me on the barn phone if you need me.”
“I’ll drop off your battery charger,” Christine said.
“That’s all right. I have one in the office at the barn,” The last thing she wanted was for her mom to come and notice a new horse there. She’d tell Bethann and then….
“Do you want me to make you something for lunch?”
“No. That’s okay. I’ll grab a veggie wrap at Finney’s.”
Mindy was tempted to stop by the barn, since she was literally driving right past it, but decided food needed to come first. If she waited too long to eat, she’d end up with a headache for sure. Finney’s was practically empty, the lunch crowd gone. She ordered a veggie wrap for herself and one each to take to Hillary and Mrs. Butchling. When she heard someone come in the door behind her, she turned and there they both stood.
“How’s the horse?”
“Fine,” Mrs. Butchling said. “But Hillary here needs to eat something.”
“Finney’s making us veggie wraps.”
Finney nodded from the kitchen, his greeting, his affirmation. “Here, sit down,” Mindy said, pulling out chairs. “Change that to us eating here,” she told Finney. Another nod.
Mindy grabbed three papaya drinks out of the cooler, opened Hillary’s, and handed it to her. “Drink.”
The young woman drank half the bottle before coming up for air. Mindy studied her eyes and glanced at Mrs. Butchling. The old woman looked beyond weary. “What happened after I left?”
Hillary shook her head. “The horse started talking a mile a minute. Apparently he colicked pretty bad earlier this month. Boy, that was fun.” She pressed her hand to her stomach.
Mindy sighed. She couldn’t imagine going through what Hillary experienced around horses. On a plus side, one time they were watching two horses bucking and playing and Hillary started laughing - and every time she tried to stop, the horses would run and buck some more and she and Mindy ended up laughing so hard they had tears in their eyes.
“Is he okay? Did he settle down?”
“Oh yeah. He’s as snug as a bug in a rug,” Mrs. Butchling said.
Finney brought them their veggie wraps. “Do you want some sweet potato chips?”
Mindy looked up at him. “With cucumber dip?”
Finney smiled. “I just made a fresh batch this morning.”
“Yes!”
The three women ate their lunch virtually in silence. Nothing much needed to be said. They would look at one another, shake their heads, and just continue eating.
“He’s got bad hocks,” Hillary eventually said, at one point, mouth full. She motioned for another drink. Mindy reached for one and handed it to her.
“From the sliding stops,” Mrs. Butchling added.
Mindy scooped a sweet potato chip into the cucumber dip and savored the taste. “Now tomorrow, this would be good, but just not as good as today.”
“That’s because cucumbers are mostly water,” Finney said, eavesdropping.
They all looked at him.
“What?” he said. “In case you haven’t noticed, you three are my only customers. It’s quiet in here. I couldn’t help but overhear.”
“Would you care to join us?” Mrs. Butchling asked.
“No. No, thank you. I have things to do.”
Mindy looked from one to the other and leaned in close to Mrs. Butchling. “Are you flirting with him?”
“Flirting? Flirting? I was just being polite,” she insisted, with a rather scolding tone. “Flirting? At my age?”
Mindy smiled. “I don’t know. It sure looked like flirting to me.”
Hillary agreed.
Mrs. Butchling laughed and then sat back and heaved a sigh. “Flirting at my age. What would Harold say?”
“Harold?” Hillary asked.
“My husband. He’s dead.” When Mrs. Butchling heard herself say that she gasped and then started laughing again. “Oh my God!”
“What?” Mindy asked.
“The way I said it, just like that. He’s dead. That’s the very first time I have said that since…the day he died. I would say deceased, passed away, gone. He’s dead.”
“Who’s dead?” Finney asked.
“My husband.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. What happened?”
“Oh, he just died.”
“Recently?”
She shook her head. “No. A little over a year ago.”
“Heart?”
Mrs. Butchling shrugged. “Sort of.”
Hillary’s cellphone rang. It was Veronica from Shifting Gears. “How is the horse now?” she asked.
“He’s calmed down,” Hillary replied.
“Good.”
“Why? What’s the matter?”
“Well…we just got visited by the authorities.”
“Seriously?”
Mindy and Mrs. Butchling looked on with vested interest. Finney looked on too.
“Yes, seriously. We’re going to have to lay low.”
“For how long?”
“More than the initial day or so. Probably a couple of days.”
“Oh boy.” Hillary looked at her two partners in crime. “All right. Um, keep me posted. Okay. Bye.”
“What?” Mindy and Mrs. Butchling asked when she hung up.
Hillary shook her head. “Trust me. I don’t think you want to know.”
Mindy waved for the check.
Chapter Eight
Mindy had a private lesson scheduled with Gina Furber and her horse Piccolo at two-thirty. As she fed the horses their lunch, the new horse nickered like all the rest and acted as if he’d been there forever. Happily eating the grain she tossed into his feed tub, he looked up at her with a mouthful as if to say thank you.
When she heard the beeping noise of a garbage truck backing up the hill, she thought about being stopped in traffic this morning, thought about the “frackers.” Then ultimately, she thought about the cowboy and stared off in the distance. “What was the name of his company?” She tried to remember. It was two initials, something-something Industries.
Since she had a few minutes to spare, she walked to the office and turned on the computer. This being a rural area with no high-speed internet, it took forever to boot up. She plugged her cellphone into the charger and sat waiting.
“Fracking” brought up a whole list of articles and sites and she became angrier and angrier with each article she read. The thought of fracking anywhere, let alone at Maple Dale was infuriating. She punched in “Fracking in Geauga County” and hit the jackpot. G.P. Industries. The listing even had a phone number.
She dialed it, fuming.
“G.P. Industries. How may I help you?”
“This is Mindy Morrison of Maple Dale Equestrian Center. I would like to speak to someone in charge about this fracking business that your company is involved in.”
“In reference to what?”
“In reference to stopping it.”
“I see. Well, the best thing I can tell you is you might want to contact your local township trustee. The officials here do not entertain calls such as this. They are out in the field and on the job working to make….”
“Did you just read that off a card?”
The woman hesitated. “I’m sorry. Unless you have a specific question about the progress we are making…?”
“Progress?” Mindy heaved a sigh. “All right, I do have a specific question. How can I get in touch with Shane?”
“Do you mean Shane Thornton?”
“Why? Do you have more than one Shane?”
Silence.
“I’m
sorry,” Mindy said. “That was unnecessary. I don’t know his last name, so I am assuming that is him. He’s on the road crew.”
The woman almost had a smile in her voice. “I can’t tell you how many women call asking about him. I can take your name and number, but he just tears up the messages, so….”
“No, that’s all right. I’ll find him. Thank you for your time.”
“You’re welcome.” Click.
Mindy glanced out the large window between the observation room and upper arena. Gina had just entered with Piccolo. When she waved to Mindy, Mindy smiled. Gina was one of her favorite students and Piccolo one her favorite horses for lessons. He wasn’t what one would consider push-button, but he had a certain amount of “cruise control.” He was a horse that effectively always tried to “take care of the rider.” Gina lost her confidence last summer after she took a bad fall and Piccolo was just the horse she needed to help her regain it.
Mindy motioned she’d be right there and ducked into the ladies room. As she washed up and stood looking in the mirror, she saw something move out of the corner of her eye. “Wow, what was that?” With nothing obviously there, she stepped closer to the mirror to see if she had something in her eyelashes. Nothing. She made funny faces, looking left, then right. Still nothing. “Alrighty then,” she said, and walked out the door.
Gina always waited for Mindy before she mounted her horse. It was a mounting incident that had actually resulted in Gina’s injuries. The horse she’d always ridden at the time, spooked and jumped sideways, banging into the mounting block and Gina having just begun to mount, slipped and was dragged….
Mindy held Piccolo while Gina mounted; a routine done in what looked like a casual gesture, and she never released him until both of Gina’s feet were firmly in her stirrups. Ever since the accident, Gina not only had breakaway stirrups, she had breakaway stirrup straps as well. All this precaution and ritual afforded her the knowledge, that even though anything can happen and that lightning can and does indeed strike twice on occasion, at least she was doing everything possible to make sure she wouldn’t experience the same end result.
Mindy walked to the center of the arena as Gina warmed her horse up at a trot. “All right, now let’s have a little canter, full arena, no small circles.” Piccolo was a big horse, standing just under 17 hands and needed to warm up significantly for small circles. His ability to bend came with loose muscles and happy stifles. He was a magnificent gray with a nice relaxed jaw and soft mouth. For his massive size, he had a gentle stride - easy to sit, and a pleasure to ride.
Mindy shared the news about Bethann and Benjamin’s baby with Gina, complete with how it felt to hold little David for the first time. “It was amazing. It was as if I’d known him all my life.”
Gina smiled.
“Now that’s what I’m talking about,” Mindy said.
“What?”
“You’re breathing. You’re breathing.”
Gina chuckled. “I’m trying.”
“All right, let’s come down to a walk and reverse.”
Gina turned her horse as instructed.
“And canter.”
Piccolo launched himself into a sloppy canter transition.
“Ooh, whose fault was that?” Mindy asked.
“Mine,” Gina said.
“You betcha! Let’s bring him back to a walk and try that again.” The next transition was vastly improved. “Much, much better,” Mindy said.
Gina had a beautiful seat and as Bethann liked to say, “She’s not afraid to sit her butt in the saddle.”
“Not to analyze everything to death, but where do you think your line of communication fell apart?”
Gina smiled. “No advance cues. I just flung it on him!”
Mindy laughed. That ‘flinging it on him’ was one of Mindy’s pet expressions. She was the queen of half-halts. “Let the horse know there’s a change coming. A little advance warning goes a long way. Lift just a little. That split-second lift is a way of showing respect. It’s saying I don’t want to set you up for failure – I’m about to ask you to change tempo. You want your horse to enjoy his communication with you and vice versa.”
“All right, let’s come across on the diagonal. Prepare him for a change of lead…and… change leads. Very nice.”
Gina grinned with pride.
Going into the turn Piccolo tripped, lunging Gina forward onto the pommel of the saddle. “Silly rabbit,” Mindy said. “Pick up your reins. Pick up his head. Inside leg. Inside leg. Good boy! Good boy!”
“Why did he do that? Why did he trip?”
“Because he’s a horse,” Mindy said nonchalantly. “All right, let’s come back down across the diagonal. Anticipate. Anticipate. Change leads mid-way and take him deep into the corner. Talk to him. Talk to him….” There was someone standing just outside the arena door. “Talk to him. Good. Good. Remember it’s all about communication. Show him the same respect you would show a fellow human.” Mindy couldn’t believe her eyes. Was that Bethann standing there?
No. She squinted into the beam of sunshine. It must have been a shadow. She turned her attention back to her student, but glanced back several times just to be sure. “Let’s bring him back to a walk. Remember to push him into the bit. Sit deep. Sit deep. Light touch. Light touch. Perfect.”
Gina recalled the first time Mindy asked her to perform a downward transition that way. With her previous instructor, it was just a matter of pulling back on the reins.
“And that’s okay,” Mindy had said, “if you want your horse to stop like this.” She imitated a horse tossing up its head and landing flat footed. “Ain’t that pretty?”
“I see what you mean. That was awesome. He kept his head carriage. He kept his hindquarters engaged. I see what you mean.”
“You urge him into the bit with your seat and if you don’t give with your hands, he will move into your hands and stop. If you give with your hands, he will keep moving. No pulling back on the reins. It’s not necessary. Not at this level of riding.”
Mindy had Gina work at trot stops and starts, an exercise to further a rider’s sensitivity to a horse’s mouth.
“How much pressure?” Gina had asked, early on at Maple Dale.
“Oh geez,” Mindy has said. “You’re not from the school that has a weight scale hard-wired in your brain, are you?”
Gina laughed.
Mindy then launched into a litany. “Apply two pounds of equal pressure. Okay, tell me how are we supposed to gauge that? Seriously? No wait, I think I’ll up the ante. I’ll trade you three pounds of pressure for five, and throw in a kilo or two just for good measure. Ridiculous! How much does one arm weigh? A hand? How many ducks does it take to hatch an egg?”
“Let’s come down the diagonal and let him hand gallop. Good. Good.” Piccolo gave a little buck. “That’s all right. Now back into a canter and then a trot. Forward motion. Forward motion. Beautiful! Are you feeling it?”
“I’m feeling it,” Gina sang.
“And a downward transition into a walk. Good. Squeeze the toothpaste. Do you feel the difference?” The squeezing the toothpaste analogy is one that Mindy did like in reference to riding, and used it often. “You squeeze with your thighs on a downward transition and your calves with the upward transition. In order for the horse to respond you must have impulsion or you’re going to come up empty in either case, especially in a downward transition. Your horse is going to just stop. You want beauty in every movement. You want to form a partnership with your horse, not blind obedience. Being an equestrian is not being a dictator demanding obedience. It’s about becoming as one.”
Gina looked at Mindy in passing. “Wow, that’s beautiful.”
Mindy nodded. She agreed, but had to wonder what sparked that rather lengthy litany. It sounded more like something Leah Oliver would have said. “Let’s let him stretch a little and then we’ll work on some leg-yielding. Are you up for it?”
“Oh yeah!”
~ *
~
Mindy had three horses to school this particular afternoon, got them done, washed up, and went to visit Bethann for a few minutes. Her sister was happy to see her and wanted a complete rundown on everything going on at the barn.
“You’ve only been gone one day,” Mindy teased. “Seriously now.” David was asleep in his bassinet. Mindy smiled down at him. “He’s so precious.”
Bethann nodded. “I know. I can’t stop looking at him.” She glanced at Mindy. “Well?”
“Well....” Mindy hesitated. “Everyone’s fine. Easy To Do said to tell you hello.”
“Tell him I’ll come see him tomorrow.”
“Is that allowed?”
“Why not? I feel great. Just the stitches….”
Mindy plugged her ears. “Ooh! Don’t!”
Bethann laughed. How Mindy could be so grown up on one minute and so child-like the next amazed her. “All right. All right.”
Mindy unplugged her ears. “So, uh, what time tomorrow do you think?”
“I don’t know yet. Why are you asking? What difference does it make?”
Mindy shrugged. “Just probably ‘cause I want to be there, just in case your stitches let loose or something.”
Bethann laughed again. Mindy was always making her laugh. More than fourteen years apart, she felt almost like a second mother to her sister. “I love you, Mindy,” she said.
“Oh God! Is this what happens to people when they have a baby? They get sentimental?”
Bethann smiled. “Well, maybe. But I do.”
“Okay. And on that, I’m leaving. I’ll see you tomorrow whenever.” She looked at little David and hesitated leaving. “Can a sister also be a godmother?”
“Most definitely,” Bethann said.
Mindy waved to Benjamin. He was sitting on the kitchen couch with his laptop, working. He waved back, earphones on, and typing away. As she pulled out of the driveway, she decided to check the highway to see if she could find the fracking crew. She didn’t have that much time before her next lesson and sped down the hill. Her father was coming up the hill and yelled at her to slow down. When she beamed a smile at him, he shook his head.
“Lead foot,” he called her.
Maple Dale ~ My Forever Home (Maple Dale Series) Page 6
