Headed for the Win (Nadia and Winny Book 1)
Page 8
“Good morning, my dear. How did you sleep?”
Winny lifted her face from out of her hands—my hands—and stared at Danika. Winny must have recognized her because she smiled broadly.
“I slept very well. Pillows are such wonderful things.”
Danika chuckled lightly. “Yes, pillows are fantastic. And how are you feeling? Sore?”
I surveyed Winny. Other than a scrape on her elbow and a slight plum-colored bruise on her knee, she didn't look too beat up.
Winny glanced at me through my muddy brown eyes, a look of regret and sorrow. “I'm a bit sore, yes, but I've had worse. Much worse.”
“I see,” Danika nodded thoughtfully. “Up for a quick ride this morning? We've got to walk the cross-country course one more time.”
“A ride?” Winny stuttered nervously. “I don't know, I mean…”
“You will ride,” Ms. Diederich interrupted as she approached. “You must not let fear conquer you or you will never have success.”
Winny sucked in her breath and held it as she conceded with a slight gesture. What was she going to tell them anyway? That she's used to being the one ridden, not the one riding?
Danika, Ms. Diederich, Gretchen, Mike and my double left for breakfast. Winny walked, then started skipping her way to the food tent. Gretchen, hanging on to Mike's arm, rolled her eyes and asked if I'd hit my head harder than I thought while Mike belly laughed at Winny’s antics. With them gone, I finally paid attention to my stomach, now an enormous organ in my huge gut, churning and complaining about being neglected. I peered over at the pile of hay I'd stamped to oblivion.
Sheepishly, I sniffed at it. Well, here goes nothing. I took a nibble. It was course and dry but sweet. With a little grinding, it was quite satisfying.
“Try the grain,” Dodger said from his stall. He didn't seem surprised at all at the predicament that Winny and I were in. I was now thoroughly convinced that nothing could shock him.
The grain was coated with a sweet, sticky molasses and it took little convincing to taste. It was more than delicious—it might as well have been ambrosia. I ate contently when Winny came sprinting back.
“Nadia?” Winny peered into my stall. Between pants of breath, she huffed, “I have no idea how you stand being so slow and winded all the time,” she inhaled deeply. “Anyway, I have to apologize for yesterday. I was hoping there'd be a way for me to explain to you but I never thought it would happen like this.”
She slid open the stall door and stepped in. Stretching her fingers out, she wriggled them in front of her face again. It must have been quite the feeling for her, possessing the body of a different creature. I could totally empathize.
She ran her fingertips down my face and flipped the forelock that disguised the white star, giving my forehead a good scratch. I sighed in relief, feeling indescribably relaxed.
“When I was being started, I was with a good and kind man. I don't remember his name. It seems like ages ago. I do remember he was always happy, with kind manners who took time to let each of us two-year-olds figure out what he was asking, rather than forcing us to do it.”
She paced the length of the stall with her fists resting on her hips. “I excelled and knew I was one of his favorites. He kept me a year longer than he did the other colts and fillies so he could work with me. I'm sure he would have kept me but…”
Winny's voice wavered and her chin shook. Fresh tears lined the rims of her eyes and cascaded like tiny diamonds down her cheeks. “This is a new experience for me,” she laughed and wiped them away.
“He had an accident one day in his car. I didn't see him for months. Someone new came and took care of us, though none of us were ever ridden. The next time I saw him, he was in a wheelchair. He came to my stall and sobbed and sobbed. He stroked me on the head and whispered how sorry he was into my ear. The next day, I was loaded onto a trailer and sent on a long journey to live with my second owner, Gloria.”
The same flock of starlings that had woken me with their incessant chatter landed again outside the stalls, noisily fighting over the tidbits of grain Mike had dropped.
“Gloria,” Winny continued, “was nothing like my first master. She was cruel and heavy-handed. I was so confused, how a woman so young could be so angry. She was only a few years older than you, but she was so vengeful and had such a fierce temper. She used to beat my flanks with a whip when I didn't do exactly as she asked, even if it was a mistake and I wasn't trying to be belligerent. It didn't take me long to figure out that if I bucked hard enough, I could get her off my back. Sometimes she'd leave me alone after she fell, other times she climb back on and whip more furiously than before. More than once the whip ripped open my flesh. That‘s how I got that scar tissue across my brand.”
My attention was fully on Winny. A pang of guilt pricked my heart as I listened. I had accused Winny of being a stubborn, ill-tempered horse when she bucked me off but it hadn't occurred to me that she, like anybody, had a history. The misunderstanding I had nursed all night was dissipating like a handful of silt in a stream.
“She finally had me taken to the auction when I threw her into the wall and broke her arm. She kept screaming at me while I cowered in the corner, knowing that what I had done was wrong. It was a reaction. My fight or flight instinct. Sometimes I still do it, even now. When I feel anything run across my flanks, I instinctively feel the need to fight.”
She cupped my cheeks in her hands and looked me straight in the eye.
“I'm sorry Nadia for what I did yesterday. It was wrong of me.” She smiled slightly and lifted up her elbow where a patch of skin had been rubbed off. “Looks like I'm reaping the consequences of my actions in a very strange way. But I deserve it. Nadia, I won't let it happen again.”
I rested my head on her shoulder and let her stroke my neck. Grateful I'd been able to learn the truth in such unobstructed detail, straight from my horse's mouth, I thought it a blessing our trading places might turn out to be. A blessing as long as it wasn't permanent.
Chapter Thirteen
Winny's stomach gurgled loudly. “When did you feed this body last?” she poked at her new abs. “I'd better run back—I told them I'd forgotten something. I guess they'll be wondering where I am.”
I cocked my head to the side. I suppose I—or rather Winny now—hadn't eaten since the sack lunch my mom had packed me the day before. I'd only poked at the dinner Mike gave me and the cupcake was destroyed by the melting candle. We'd tossed it after having a good laugh about it.
“I really hate being hungry.” Winny left my stall and slammed the door shut, “Can't have you wandering off now, can we?”
I would have laughed sarcastically but couldn't find my voice. So this was the life of a horse—always confined by a stall, fence or cross ties. I had finished gobbling down my delicious grain, wishing earnestly I had more but content I at least had the mound of hay tucked in the corner of my stall.
All of the frantic supplication for feed by my stable mates had been silenced. Everyone's owner or caretaker had shown up by now and the horses were quietly chewing.
The sound of heavy feet trudging along the gravel path next to the stalls caught my attention. It was hard to keep track of time but it seemed like it had been at least a half an hour since anybody had passed by. I looked out between the bars and caught a glimpse of a woman that had the unfortunate appearance of a swollen tick. Her tiny head sat on top of her enormously round body, unaided by a deep purple cardigan draped over her figure, the same color ticks turn when they're gorged with their latest blood meal.
She moved from stall to stall, peering in at each horse. She kept her hands tucked behind her back and gazed over the spectacles sitting on her nose.
“Who is that?” I asked Isis who'd been catnapping in the early morning light warming her black coat.
“Madame Rose. She's the dressage judge. Same one from last year. Very sought after. She's got a good eye for talent.”
“Why's she looking at everyone?”
“And why is that?”
Isis snorted playfully. “She gave me the best dressage score of all the horses and rightfully so. I worked my haunches off.”
“Hmph.” Madame Rose was peering in at Dodger and frowning at his muddy-hued coat. As usual, he didn't seem to care at all and continued snoozing, one hind leg cocked, resting it on the tip of his hoof.
“Quick!” Isis hissed as Madame Rose strolled her way towards me. “Make yourself presentable!”
I awkwardly squared my four heavy feet and carried my tail a little higher.
“It looks like you’re about to poo,” Isis snickered. “Put your tail down a little.”
Rather flustered at the idea of defecating in public, I obeyed. All I received from Madame Rose was a quiet, “Hmm.”
Isis arched her neck and posed regally, like she was ready to stand for a portrait. Madame Rose delightedly squealed, “Oh, yes. The beautiful ebony mare from last year. I remember you. Glad you've come back.”
Isis threw me a haughty look and I chortled. She and Gretchen were a perfect match.
“In my defense,” I flicked my tail, “I've had all of one morning being a horse whereas you've been one your whole life.”
“I told you she has an eye for talent,” Isis retorted. We snorted happily. Madame Rose finished surveying the horses in our row and stalked off to the next.
Shortly after, Mr. Johnson arrived. I spotted him a good distance away, his bald head reflecting brilliant rays of sun. As he approached, we could see the puffy sacks under his eyes and caught a whiff of an extra-large steaming cup of tea he carried closely under his nose to help him wake.
“Hello, Dodger. It's been a long, restless night,” he spoke to his steed.
“I'll take care of you. Don't worry,” Dodger faithfully nickered. Mr. Johnson slowly got his gentle giant ready, tacking up carefully. He found a mounting block, snapped on his helmet and climbed aboard, still sipping what smelled like raspberry and lemons.
Not long after the pair left, Winny came running back and she wasn't alone. “Come on Mike! Keep up!”
She was sprinting full speed, hand in hand with Mike. Towing him behind her as she raced for the imaginary finish line, she gleefully cheered when she reached the stalls.
“I win,” she panted.
“Not… fair…” Mike heaved. “You're…in better…shape.” He collapsed on the ground and smiled up at Winny.
Winny tickled him on his ribs. “Not any better than you. No pain, no gain.”
I could feel my blood pressure rising, watching Winny and Mike playfully pinching one another. Not only did I have to compete with Gretchen for Mike's attention, now I had to compete against my horse?
Winny must have noticed my agitation as I stomped and pawed. She wrapped her fingers around the bars of my stall and whispered, “Don't worry there Nadia. I'm not into Mike. He's a man, after all. Not my type.” She gave me a sinister smile and a wink. “Just helping you out a bit.”
I whipped my tail as a warning but she didn’t seem to notice and went back to teasing Mike. His beautiful blue eyes were alight and he was obviously enjoying the attention. At least he still thought it was me, Nadia. He didn't know he was flirting with my out-of-bodied horse.
Winny stole away from Mike and whispered secretly to me, “I see why humans love meat so much.” She licked her lips, “Bacon is utterly amazing. I just may become a carnivorous equine.”
Her revelation made me laugh. It seemed that Winny was enjoying her time as a person, hands, pillows, bacon and all.
“Time for you to ride,” Ms. Diederich had unintentionally snuck up behind Winny who was now gifted with only a human body's ability to see and hear. Gretchen was at her side and given her face, angrily twisted with puckered lips and creased brow, I gathered she was beyond mad. She was livid. My blood ran cold. Mike didn't know Winny had taken my place. Neither did Gretchen. That wasn't going to stop either of them.
“Danika is already at arena two, working with Dodger and Mr. Johnson. You are to be there in ten minutes.”
Isis was tacked up and ready to go in two. It took Winny a while longer to figure out how to strap on my saddle and bridle. She fumbled around a bit and muttered quietly to herself as she concentrated. I laughed internally. She thought she had it hard as a horse.
She walked me out of the stall and took my face in her hands, looking me squarely in the eye. “Now look here, Nad—,” she stopped herself, seeing Mike leaning against the support beam. He raised an eyebrow. “You, naughty horse.” I breathed a sigh of relief at her correction while she playfully shook a finger at me. “I don't want a repeat of yesterday.”
I nickered softly, reminding her it was she who had thrown me.
Mike gave her a leg up into the saddle and with her full weight, she felt like little more than a light backpack. It was amazing having so much strength that a full-grown person on my back was a minor detail.
I nudged the emerald helmet that Winny forgot to put on. Mike handed it up to her. “Oh, yes. Of course.” She put it on and snapped it beneath her chin. “Not very comfortable, these things.”
Mike dropped and shook his head, thinking surely the girl was joking. “It's on backwards.”
Winny blushed a little. “Right. Could you…?”
She leaned over and Mike delicately removed the helmet, spun it around and re-snapped it. If I wasn't mistaken, his fingertips lingered a little too long on her cheek. My cheek.
I took off at a working-speed walk away from him. Sure, Winny was just trying to help but it was like watching my heart get ripped out. Mike wasn't falling for me. He was falling for Winny.
“Whoa there, girl,” Winny laughed as I stalked off. She was clinging to my sides, trying to balance herself on my swaying midsection. She reined me in but I yanked back and kept going.
We got to the arena where Dodger and Isis were already schooling over three-foot jumps like they were toothpicks laying on the ground. Winny tensed on my back, surely realizing that in a few minutes, she'd have be sailing over them next. I felt weak too. Four feet was a lot to coordinate over a fence that high.
“Start warming up, Nadia,” Danika shouted at us. “I want to get you two over these fences next. And no whip allowed today.”
“Yes, Danika,” Winny weakly acquiesced. We were both frozen, neither of us knowing what to do. Winny could barely balance on my back and I kept stumbling on rocks and tufts of grass since I couldn't see where I was placing my feet.
“Come on!” Danika almost barked in our direction. It was the closest thing to being upset that I had seen her. One of her star students acting like a novice.
“Well,” whispered Winny in my ear, “let's do this.”
She urged me into a trot with three distinct taps on my sides. I took a deep breath and obeyed, jogging along the rail of the arena.
“You doing okay?” Isis asked as she cantered by.
“What do you think?” I asked. Isis laughed and crow-hopped, merrily teasing me.
Winny, losing her balance in the saddle, started to squeeze as hard as she could with her legs and reins. It was terribly uncomfortable. We were stuck in a vicious cycle—she'd pound in the saddle, unable to get the rhythm of posting, I'd become tense, hollowing out my back, making it more difficult for her. We continued awkwardly around the ring for several more minutes until I broke into a walk.
Danika beckoned us over to her side. “Is everything alright?” she asked in a low voice.
Winny leaned close to her, tipping precariously out of the saddle. “I feel a bit…strange. Out of place, I guess you'd say.”
“Nerves?” Danika squeezed her knee.
“Sure. Yeah. We'll say nerves.”
Danika gave her a confused look and gently pinched her knee one more time. Her signature wedding ring nearly blinded me as it gli
stened.
“Let's take it slow then. Canter to this first vertical and stop on a straight line.”
Winny paused. “Would you, um, mind lowering it?”
“Sure,” Danika smiled and left us to adjust the jump standards.
Winny grabbed my ear and hissed, “You heard the lady. Canter. Jump. Stop on a straight line.”
I tried to confirm I understood and began trotting towards the fence. My feet tangled together and I nearly stumbled to my knees as I started a slow, rocking canter. Winny clung to me for dear life.
Two strides away, it began disappearing from my view. I knew horses’ vision was limited in some areas, but I panicked, not knowing when or how high to jump.
“No!” Winny shouted from my back as I tucked my forelegs under me and basculed. She dropped the reins and wrapped her arms helplessly around my neck.
We sailed through the air until I hit the ground with my hooves. Winny slid off my left shoulder and crashed into the speckled sand beneath.
Before anyone could rush to her side, she leapt up and brushed herself off. “I'm alright! I've had worse!” and giggling, climbed back into the saddle.
She pulled my head around with the reins and whispered, “I see why that's so embarrassing.” Tiny pieces of gravel were stuck to her pink cheeks. I shook my head, half-amused, half-mortified.
Danika kept sending us over and over the pathetically small jump. If Winny and I were in our right spots, none of this would have been a problem but with our roles reversed, it was a nightmare.
Winny didn't fall off any more, though she came frightfully close a few times. On one leap, she slid out onto my neck, her chin planted firmly onto my forehead. I gave a forceful swing and flipped her back onto my withers where she shimmied back into the saddle.
We charged at the fence again but I stumbled over my feet. Once, instead of jumping, I plowed right through, knocking down the standards and rails, catching my hind feet on my front.
When I finally regained my footing, my front left hoof felt funny. I held it up to see half my shoe sticking out.