Maple Dale ~ My Forever Home (Maple Dale Series)

by MaryAnn Myers

She turned right onto the main road and drove for about six miles with no crew in sight. “How much ground can they cover in a day?” She turned around at the next intersection, headed back toward Maple Dale, and noticed Mrs. Butchling’s SUV in the parking lot outside Finney’s.

  Julia had Ichabod in crossties and tacked for her lesson. He was even-tempered for the most part, but had a mischievous streak. Large and stocky, according to Julia’s mother, he fit her well. In Mindy’s opinion, Ichabod would be best suited to a strong male rider. Julia’s mother insisted her daughter needed a big stout horse to carry her weight, but what Ichabod really needed was a lot of leg on him. Julie just didn’t have it. She was average height, but the thickness of her legs, particularly her thighs, and Ichabod’s massive back, wide and flat, was not a match made in heaven.

  Julia loved the horse dearly, rotten-ornery and all. She showered him with attention and affection, brought him treats galore, and put up with just about anything he dished out. It drove Mindy crazy.

  Extremely self-conscious, Julia always took a private lesson. She didn’t want anyone to see her ride. When her mother showed up on occasion, the girl practically fell apart and always made an excuse to end the lesson early.

  “I’ll see you in the arena,” Mindy said, chucking Ichabod on the nose. He pinned his ears and turned to Julia, looking for more treats. Julia gave him all he wanted.

  Mindy stopped to fuss over Malaki and walked down to the blanket stall to check on the new horse. “He’s pretty,” Julia said, as Mindy stood looking in at him. “Is he a new boarder?”

  “Um….no…he’s more or less just here on a …uh, trial.”

  “Well he sure is sweet,” Julia said as she led Ichabod out of the barn. “He licked my face.”

  Mindy smiled. “He could have cooties you know.” She heard Julia laugh. The girl had such a funny laugh. She didn’t laugh all that often, but when she did, it was hard not to laugh right along with her. “Go ahead and start warming up. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  “Okie dokie!” Julia yelled over her shoulder.

  Mindy marveled. The girl was always so happy when it was just her and a horse. Otherwise, she was a different person, quiet, sullen and sad, hungry. The new horse still had some of his lunch hay left, his belly full. Mindy sighed. He might not have been loved, but apparently he was at least fed well. That said something.

  Mrs. Butchling entered the barn. “How is he?”

  The horse nickered at the sound of her voice, right along with Dew Drop.

  “He seems fine.”

  “Did you hear any more from Hillary?”

  Mindy shook her head. “She might have called. I’ll go check my phone. It’s taking longer and longer to charge.” She walked to the office, unplugged her cellphone and checked for messages and texts. She had several, but decided to respond later. She turned the phone off – a cardinal rule of Bethann’s for both instructor and student alike, and went out into the arena.

  Julia had pulled the rail across the doorway, a necessary precaution since Ichabod loved to drop his shoulder going into the turn and dart out the door. He would even try to get away with it when Mindy schooled him. Another challenge was to keep him cantering straight when he was on the wall.

  Mindy watched as Julia worked hard at keeping him in line. If she only had more leg. “Good girl. Good. Good.” Since Julia refused to have Ichabod carry her over jumps because of her weight, her lessons mainly consisted of flat work, focusing on equitation and control.

  At times, it seemed an almost impossible situation. When Julia was asked to go into two point posture, up out of the saddle, Ichabod would appear to exaggerate his effort to keep moving forward at a good pace. Horses aren’t supposed to lie, but Mindy was convinced Ichabod had stretching-the-truth down pat. “Oh, Ichabod,” she muttered under her breath. “Do you have any idea how hard you are making this on her?”

  “Now walk. Give him his head. Let’s let him stretch. Encourage him to stretch his neck. That’s it. That’s it. Tap him gently with your heel. Tap, tap, tap.” Ichabod lowered his head and stretched his back and neck. Mindy had Julia walk him around the arena several times this way. “All right, now gather him up and we’re going to do that again. Good. Good.”

  Mindy watched as Julia did her best to keep Ichabod moving forward. “Come down the center line, and…halt.” Mindy smiled. “Look at you, girl!”

  Julia smiled. “That was pretty good, wasn’t it?”

  Mindy walked toward them. “Time for a leg-extension aid.”

  “What?”

  “Better known as a dressage whip.” There was one leaning against one of the jumps. Mindy showed it to Ichabod. He’d seen it before. Then she handed it to Julia and demonstrated how to hold it. “You never hit a horse with it. You don’t have to. Again, it’s to serve as an extension of your leg. You can tap it.” When she tapped Ichabod he moved slightly. “You can just press it to his side.” He moved more. “And always just behind your leg. No hitting him on the shoulder or waving it by his head.”

  Julia’s eyes widened.

  “Yes, sad to say some people do. Again, just a flick of your wrist. Don’t change the contact on the bit. You don’t have to. That’s why the whip is so long. Now if he’s lagging behind what works best is just pressure. Pressure and release. Pressure and release. Don’t let up till he says ‘Uncle.’”

  Julia laughed a nervous laugh. “Are you sure I’m ready for this?”

  “Yep.”

  “What if he runs off with me?”

  “Ichabod?”

  Another nervous laugh.

  “You’re fine. But if it’ll make you feel better, when he starts to run off you can always just drop your whip. You won’t need it anymore at that point anyway.” She and Julia both laughed. “All right. We’ll take it slow. All I want you to do is walk him around and get comfortable holding the whip. I’ll tell you when I want you to tap him.”

  “Should I grip it more in the middle?”

  “No. You’re good just the way it is.”

  When horse and rider started down around the arena, Mindy couldn’t help but laugh again. “Seriously, Julia! What’s with your hands so high up in the air? You look like your driving a buggy horse!”

  Julia giggled. “I don’t know what to do.”

  “Just keep walking. Lower your hands a little more. Hold them just the way you normally do. Now tap him gently, just behind your inside leg.”

  Julia flicked her wrist ever so lightly.

  “Did you make contact?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Chances are then that you didn’t.” Mindy could see that she hadn’t made contact, but wanted Julia to know for herself - to feel it. “Tap him again.”

  Ichabod raised his head slightly. “See?”

  Julia nodded. “Can I tap him again?”

  “Yes.”

  Again Ichabod raised his head.

  “Oh my God!”

  Mindy smiled. That little bit of pressure from her calf would have a similar effect, but when Julia used her heel, it threw her weight to that side, sending mixed signals to the horse. Introducing the whip sooner was not an option. Chances are she would have relied on it too much and that would have been setting her up for failure. All this ran through Mindy’s mind in a matter of seconds as she watched Julia circle the arena.

  “Now just lay the whip against his side. No, same place as before, just behind your leg.”

  “Can I look?”

  “Nope. Can you feel it?”

  “I think so, Yes.”

  “Does Ichabod feel it?”

  She looked at her horse’s head carriage. “Yes.”

  “Now just walk along, doing pressure and release, pressure and release. Do you feel him coming into your hands more?”

  “Yes! Oh my God. This is so cool!”

  “Now don’t overdo it. Just light pressure and release - light pressure and release.” Mindy glanced at the clock in the observation room
. Julia’s lesson was just about over. With her being so uncomfortable with anyone watching her ride, Mindy always made sure the lesson ended well in advance in case the next student happened to enter the arena early. As a rule, early was okay. It was encouraged in fact. The next rider or riders could be warming up while the previous rider was doing their horse’s cool down.

  “Okay, we’re going to end on a really big note.”

  “Is this where I drop my whip?” Julia asked, grinning.

  Mindy chuckled. “No. I want you to apply pressure and push him into the bit. Good. Good. That’s good. Now with a little more pressure I want you to bring him almost to a halt. Lift your inside rein slightly. Press a little harder - a little more - a little more - a little more. Keep him going. Keep him going. A complete circle with his hindquarters, yes, yes, and voila! You have just completed a turn on the forehand.”

  “Oh my God!! I did! Didn’t I?”

  “Yes, you did. Now if you want to beat the rush…?”

  “Can I do it again first? Please.”

  Mindy smiled. “All right. We’ll do the opposite direction. Reverse. Do you want me to walk you through it?”

  “No. I can do it. Watch me.”

  Mindy smiled. It wasn’t a perfect turn on the forehand but it was a confidence-building milestone for Julia. “Good girl.” Mindy bowed in Julia’s honor and said a silent message of gratitude to Ichabod. “Thank you!”

  Chapter Nine

  Mrs. Butchling did very little schooling riding anymore. She mainly took to the trails and also liked hacking in the outdoor arena. It was nestled in the trees and was rarely used this time of year because of the heat. When she was done riding, most often she’d dismount and just stroll around, letting Dew Drop graze on the short clover. “We’re winding down,” she’d tell Dew Drop. He was once a competitive hunter-jumper and she a formidable contender, but she hadn’t shown in years. Dew Drop was in his twenties. She was in her sixties.

  By the time she and her horse made the climb back up the hill and then back down and around to the barn, Mindy was done giving lessons for the day and was standing in the aisleway of the barn debating what to do about the new horse.

  “Why?” Mrs. Butchling asked, as she led Dew Drop into the grooming stall. “What do you mean?” She removed her horse’s bridle, put on his halter, and hooked him to the crossties.

  “Bethann says she’s coming in tomorrow for a little while.”

  “Oh.” Mrs. Butchling nodded, understanding the dilemma.

  “I was thinking maybe I could tell her that he is in here on a trial.”

  “For what? What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know. I have no idea what I’m even thinking.”

  “Be careful,” the old woman said. “If you can lie to yourself, you can lie to anyone.”

  Mindy looked at her.

  “I used to lie to myself all the time. I told myself my husband would be fine. I told myself he was going to get better. I told myself I’d be fine without him.”

  Mindy hesitated. Mrs. Butchling rarely talked about her deceased husband, let alone any insecurity on her part. She didn’t quite know how to respond. “I think I’m going to tack him up and ride him.”

  Malaki nickered. “It’s your day off,” Mindy told her.

  “What good’s riding him going to do?” Mrs. Butchling asked.

  “Well, then it won’t be a lie. At least not that part.”

  She took the horse out of his stall and led him down to the second set of crossties. He tried to talk to each horse they passed along the way. Malaki squealed and stomped at him and then strained her neck to try and touch him.

  All the horses in the barn had yoke stall gates. Every horse was leaning out, watching the new horse. “They like you,” Mindy said, brushing him. Dew Drop looked over the half-wall between the two grooming stalls and nickered.

  “He’s giving you his seal of approval too,” Mrs. Butchling said.

  Mindy finished brushing the horse off and picked his feet. “He’s well-behaved. That’s good.” Once tacked, she led him out of the barn and into the arena. Not every horse is accustomed to being mounted from a mounting block. Mindy figured now was as good a time as any to find out this horse’s habits. He wasn’t liking it. He pulled back and snorted as if the mounting block was about to eat him alive.

  “Pick your battles,” Mrs. Butchling said, entering the arena behind her.

  Mindy smiled. Wisdom prevailed. She mounted from the ground and the horse stood like a perfect gentleman - albeit with looking over his shoulder at the mounting block with ridiculously wide eyes. Mrs. Butchling sat on one of the jumps to watch.

  Mindy nudged the horse into a walk and led him around the perimeter of the arena. He neck reined and single reined. She tried him both ways. When he lowered his head, she nudged him to lift his head and pick up his pace but he lowered his head even more. “Don’t you even think about bucking me off, buddy-boy.” She nudged him again, this time more firmly, and asked for a trot.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “Oh, that’s god-awful,” Mrs. Butchling said.

  The horse had one of those skip along, shuffle-shuffle, head low Western Pleasure trots.

  Mrs. Butchling sat with her mouth open. “That’s painful to watch.”

  “Well, it’s not actually hard to ride. But what’s the point?” Mindy asked the horse to canter and sat rocking along with his slow motion crawl. “Is he actually cantering?”

  “Uh….” A canter is a three beat stride. “I guess technically.” His cadence had a da da dum to it, but more like da – hesitation, and then a da-dum. It was as if he was thinking about cantering but hadn’t quite made up his mind. Mindy asked for extension and the horse sped up the process, but still maintained a disjointed gait.

  “It’s like he’s counter cantering.”

  “Yeah, but he’s not.”

  “This is crazy. You should feel how weird this is.”

  “That can’t be good for his back, not to mention the strain on his hocks.”

  When Mindy asked for a downward transition, the horse stopped on a dime with his hindquarters tucked underneath him as if he was afraid of falling.

  Mindy sat shaking her head, dumbfounded. “He’d be useless here. Even if….” She shook her head again. “I don’t know that we could ever get him back to a normal stride.”

  The horse stood like a bronze statue, head hung low.

  “It would take time I’m sure.”

  Both women turned when they heard a noise in the observation room. No one was there. “Probably Piggly or Squiggly.” Mindy dismounted and led the horse out of the arena.

  Mrs. Butchling trailed along after them. “He’s put together nice, that’s for sure.”

  “He’ll make someone a nice horse. Who knows, maybe someone will like the way he travels.”

  Mindy untacked the horse, rubbed him down, and put him back in his stall. Instead of going straight for his hay, like most horses would, he stood looking out his stall gate. “What?” Mindy said. She walked back and patted him on his forehead. “It’s not your fault.”

  A car door closed shut just outside of the barn. It was Hillary and her boyfriend Matthew. “I just came to check on him,” Hillary said.

  Mindy waved. “Hey, Matthew.”

  The young man smiled. He was tall and thin and had dark wavy hair pulled back into a ponytail.

  When Mrs. Butchling came in behind them, Hillary introduced her to Matthew. Having never met before, the first thing she noticed about the young man was his piercing blue eyes and the fact that he didn’t see well. When he went to shake her hand, he missed it ever so slightly.

  “So how is he doing?” Hillary asked.

  “Actually I just rode him. He’s got that Western shuffle thing going on.”

  Hillary walked down to look in at the horse and sighed. “He’s disappointed you.”

  “Well, no, not really, but….”

  “No, h
e’s saying he disappointed you.”

  “Oh dear,” Mrs. Butchling said.

  “He says he doesn’t want you to ride him anymore.”

  “Excuse me?” Mindy said.

  “He says he’ll only disappoint you more and he can’t stand the thought of that.”

  Mindy held up her hands and walked away. When Matthew walked with her, she glanced at him. “That’s too freaky.”

  “I know. Tell me about it.”

  Mindy looked out at the sky.

  “She was able to garner some more information about the horse.”

  Mindy looked at Matthew and smiled. Only he could use words like “garner” and have it sound perfectly casual. “Oh, and what did she garner?”

  “Apparently he’s a head case.”

  “Wonderful.” Mindy drew a deep breath and sighed.

  Hillary walked up next to them. “I’m sorry,” she said to Mindy.

  Mindy smiled a weak smile. “That’s all right. After all, what are friends for?”

  Hillary nodded and hesitated. “So apparently he’s been known to throw himself down.”

  “In the stall or when he’s being ridden?”

  “I uh, I don’t know.”

  “Is it a medical issue?”

  “No. More like a….”

  “Tantrum?”

  “No, I think the word might be distraught,” Matthew said. “Whenever he’s distraught.”

  Mrs. Butchling stood at their side.

  “Apparently that behavior we observed in the arena, him throwing himself against the gate...” Hillary said. “He panics.”

  Mindy held up her hand and stood staring out at the horizon, shaking her head. “We’re going to break his heart. That’s if he doesn’t kill himself first.”

  “Veronica and Karen said they’ll come and get him if you want.”

  “Where will they take him?”

  “Well, they don’t know where they can….”

  “Have the authorities been back?”

  Hillary shook her head.

  At least that was somewhat good news. Mindy glanced down the barn aisleway. The horse was leaning out of the front of his stall, looking at her. “You’re fine,” she said. “You’re fine.” She lowered her voice. “Is there any way we can assure him.”