by Chris Platt
Mrs. Durham wrapped her arms around Katie’s shoulders and gave her a peck on the cheek. “Everything’s great, honey. I’ve checked on him every hour, and each time I go out there, he’s eating. I don’t know if he keeps getting up to eat again, or if he never stops.”
Katie breathed a sigh of relief and hugged her mother. “Thanks, Mom. It’s you, me, and King against the world. Nobody else thinks this colt will make it.”
Mrs. Durham reached out and stroked her daughter’s hair. “I hate to burst your bubble, but I’ve still got my doubts.”
“I know you do, Mom, but you’ll come around. Until then, I’ve got enough faith for both of us.”
Katie grabbed a piece of toast, then ran out the door to the barn. Just as her mother had said, King was up and nursing, his little mop of a tail flicking happily. Grey Dancer nickered a greeting, and King paused to inspect the intruder who had interrupted his meal. With a flip of his head, he dismissed her and went back to his lunch.
“You’re not going to ignore me that easily.” Katie laughed as she pulled the halter off its hook. She entered the stall and walked up to the colt, dangling it in front of him. “It’s lesson time.”
She quickly slipped the halter on and fastened it. King bobbed his head several times to dislodge it. When it wouldn’t budge, he accepted it and went back to nursing.
“Wow, I hope everything goes this smoothly with you.”
Katie ran her hands over the colt’s body, getting him used to her touch. A ticklish horse was difficult to handle. John said a colt should be worked with as soon as it stood to nurse.
King stomped his feet and tried to wiggle out of her grasp, but Katie continued fondling his ears and running a hand down his legs. Despite his weakened condition, he fought the lesson, and they went around and around the stall. King flopped around like a freshly caught fish, but Katie refused to let him go. By the time the colt finally relented, Katie was drenched in sweat and King was ready to drop. His nostrils flared and his chest heaved.
“So much for smooth going,” Katie muttered as she removed the halter and collapsed in the corner. For the hundredth time, she asked herself what she had gotten into. This was supposed to be simple: raise a colt, get him to the racetrack, win lots of races. She had never raised a foal before, and she was beginning to suspect that there was plenty she didn’t know.
The next several lessons went the same way. Katie was beginning to seriously doubt the wisdom of her decision. King was as stubborn as a mule. Five days had passed, and still she hadn’t been able to take him for the walks that John had suggested. King was so worn out after their battles that he collapsed in the straw and slept for hours afterward. But he was definitely getting stronger. Her aching arms were proof of that.
She was getting stronger too—mentally as well as physically. All her life people had told her she couldn’t do things because of her slight disability. She knew she had her limitations; who didn’t? But she was tired of people thinking she couldn’t perform. She looked down at her sneakers. They were a matched set—not her special pair. So what if she limped a little? She could do most things every bit as good as the rest of the kids in her class, and some things even better. King was going to be one of those things. Together, they would soar to the top!
The following day, Katie decided to give the colt a break. She didn’t want to admit that she needed one, too, but the soreness of her muscles every time she moved was a constant nagging reminder.
King was now moving around the stall in a slow, shuffling gait. Walking didn’t seem to be such a chore anymore. Tomorrow she would take him and his dam for a walk down the shed row.
When Katie entered the stall, King ambled over and poked her with his nose. Katie reached out to pet him, then stayed her hand, not wanting to start another battle. She picked up the brushes and ran them over Grey Dancer’s slick coat. Soon she heard a rustling of straw, and King stuck his head around his mother’s tail. After another moment, he came to stand beside Katie, nibbling at her shirttails.
“You think you want some brushing, too?” Katie asked as she stroked him with the brush, expecting him to shy away. But the colt stood quietly, his little fox ears flicking back and forth and his tail swishing when she hit a ticklish spot. “Well, I’ll be.” She moved the grooming tool over his entire body, even under his belly, and still the colt didn’t budge.
Katie replaced the brush strokes with her hands, moving them down his front legs, then back up and over his hindquarters. She didn’t know whether to be happy or mad. After all their skirmishes, all the doubts and bruises, here he stood as if nothing were amiss.
Looking at the unpredictable colt, who continued to nibble at her clothing, she knew she couldn’t stay mad at him. Getting angry didn’t seem to do any good anyway. He definitely had a stubborn streak.
For the next several days, Katie took King and his mother for short walks. His legs were just as crooked as ever, but he was rapidly gaining in strength. It was time to break him to halter and lead.
After school the next day, Katie led Grey Dancer out of the stall and tied her in the shed row. She got King’s halter off the hook and put it on him, but this time she left the lead rope attached. He had been so good the past week that she counted on an easy lesson.
Once again, the colt proved her wrong.
Katie gently pulled on the lead rope. King balked and pulled back. She tugged a little harder, and he quickly backed up, hitting the barn wall behind him, then lunging away from her. Katie kept hold of the rope and was dragged off her feet, hitting the ground facedown and bouncing along the hard dirt floor.
She got to her feet, spitting dirt and brushing the straw out of her hair, when she heard an amused chuckle coming from the doorway. She turned to see Jason astride his large Paint horse just outside the barn.
“It looks like the Three Stooges are at it again. Only I guess I would have to call you guys the Two Stooges since it doesn’t look like the gray mare is involved.”
“What are you doing here?” Katie frowned as she brushed more bits of straw from her jeans. Why did he have to show up now?
“I thought I’d stop by and see how the colt was doing. It looks like he’s feeling his oats,” Jason said with a smile.
Katie wanted to slap that silly grin right off his face. What a sight she must be! Dirt stains covered her clothing from head to toe, and her hair was a tangled mess of straw and pieces of alfalfa. She stood in the middle of the shed row, biting her lip. Why did these things always happen to her? Well, they didn’t always happen, she just seemed to be more awkward since Jason decided to step out of her dreams and into her life. And why was she always so clumsy? She looked down at her bad leg and frowned.
Jason was a puzzle, too. The real-life boy didn’t jibe with the one in her fantasy. Oh, sure, he was just as handsome, and he had an awesome personality, but that’s where the similarities ended. In her dream world she had on her best clothes and her hair was always perfect. She never said or did anything that wasn’t just right—and she didn’t walk with a limp. And, of course, Jason thought she was beautiful and witty. He was charming as a prince, and he always made her feel special.
Right now, all she felt was embarrassed and angry.
Jason dismounted and led his horse into an empty stall, pulling the saddle and bridle off and throwing them over the door.
“What are you doing?” She coiled her lead shank, and King walked up to her, sticking his nose into her hair and blowing a warm breath across her cheeks.
“See, he’s trying to apologize to you.”
Katie stood in the center of the barn. She reached out to stroke the colt’s neck, refusing to look at Jason.
“I guess I owe you an apology, too. I’m sorry, Katie. I wasn’t trying to make fun of you. It’s just that … well, you did look awfully funny sweeping the barn floor with the front of your shirt.”
In her mind’s eye, Katie could see the incident just as Jason described it. She could feel
a small grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. After one look at the twinkle in Jason’s eyes, she burst out laughing. It wasn’t funny but, then again, it was.
“That’s much better. Am I safe coming around you now, or do you have a stash of pinecones somewhere?”
“No, you’re safe. But you still didn’t answer my question. Why did you untack your horse?” She ran her hand through King’s unruly mane and glanced at Jason out of the corner of her eye.
He stopped beside her and reached out to pluck a few stems of hay from her hair. “You look like you could use some help.”
“I’m doing just fine, Jason Roberts,” Katie huffed. “You can resaddle your horse and ride on out of here. I don’t need any help.”
Jason said nothing. He just stood there and stared at her with those heavenly blue eyes. She wished he would look away. He made her feel ashamed of herself for acting like such a child.
“Well, maybe I could use a little help,” she relented, then shrugged her shoulders and looked him straight in the eye. “The truth is, I need a lot of it. I’ve never raised a colt before, and I think I’m doing it all wrong. Every time I pull him to come forward, he puts it in reverse.”
Jason smiled and stepped up to take the lead from her hand. “Don’t worry about that. It’s a pretty natural reaction from a colt. I’ve helped my dad raise lots of them, and none of the colts ever got it right the first time. It takes a lot of work.”
“I’m beginning to understand just how much work this really is. I didn’t think it would be this hard.” She inspected the scrapes on her palms.
“Some are more difficult than others. You’ve just got to have patience.”
“So where do we start?” Katie asked.
Jason threw the rope over King’s back and went to untie Grey Dancer. “First, we get him back in the stall with his mama.”
“But there’s hardly any room in there.”
“That’s the idea.” Jason flashed her a winsome smile. “There’ll be less room for him to drag you around.”
Katie made a face at him.
“I’m not joking, girl. Pulling back is a natural response for these colts. King already weighs as much as you do, and he’s got four legs to pull with. He’s going to win every time. The trick is to convince him that he wants to do what you want.”
Katie held the stall door open until the mare and foal entered, then she and Jason stepped inside and closed the door. “How do we do that? He’s almost convinced me that I should let him do what he wants. He’s very determined.”
Jason laughed. “That’s what it takes to make a good runner. Once he learns how to channel that stubbornness into his racing, he’ll be hard to beat.”
Katie brightened. Jason talked as though the colt would make it. She’d been having her doubts, but he was giving her the encouragement that she needed to continue. “Let’s get started.”
Jason grabbed the colt by the halter and placed his other hand on his hindquarters. “You want to start by turning him in circles. Teach him to follow his nose.” He gave a slight tug on the colt’s head and a gentle push on his hips, and King made an awkward turn to the left. “See? At first he’ll step more readily to the side than forward.” Jason switched and turned the colt in the other direction.
“Wow!” Katie clapped her hands. “Can I try?”
Jason stood behind her and positioned her hands on the halter and the colt’s rump. Standing this close to Jason with his hands covering hers, she was a nervous wreck. She tried to concentrate on the task, hoping he couldn’t feel her shake. King tried to put up a fight, but with his head being pulled to the side, he was off balance and forced to make the turn.
“Now pet him and tell him what a good boy he is,” Jason instructed.
While Katie was rewarding King, Jason took a long rope down from the wall and tied it into a lasso.
“You’re not going to rope him, are you?”
“No, this is for helping him to learn how to walk forward.” He placed the rope so it encircled the colt’s hindquarters. “When you pull on the halter and he doesn’t come, just give a tug on the butt rope and the colt will think he’s being pushed from behind.”
Katie tried it, and King took a few tentative steps toward her. Soon she was leading him around the stall. “You’re a life-saver, Jason. How can I ever thank you? You’ve saved me a lot of headaches.”
“What about that dinner invitation?”
When he stared at her with those clear blue eyes, she couldn’t think straight. She had to wiggle out of this one. There was no way she could eat with him sitting at the same table. “Uh, I can’t tonight. My friend Jan is coming over for dinner, and it wouldn’t be fair to my mom to have to prepare for another person on such a short notice.” She shrugged her shoulders. “It’s too late, dinner’s almost ready. Sorry.”
“Katie?” her mother called as she stepped through the barn door. “Jan is here.” She stopped when she saw Katie had company. “Why, Jason, look at you. You’re all grown up! I haven’t seen you in quite a while. How are your parents?”
“Just fine, Mrs. Durham. It’s nice to see you again.”
“Katie, how come you never invite Jason over? I went to school with his mother. We just seem to have lost touch over the years. It’s good to see that you two are picking up the friendship.”
Katie stared at her mother with her mouth agape, trying to think of something logical to say. Obviously, her mom didn’t notice her loss for words because she just kept on talking.
“Would you like to stay for dinner tonight, Jason? We’ve got plenty to go around.”
Jason’s back was to Katie, so she raised her hands, making a no-go motion in the air and violently shaking her head. She quickly put her hands behind her back when he turned to smile at her.
“I would love to join you ladies for dinner. Can I use your phone to call my dad and make sure it’s okay?”
“Right this way, dear.” Mrs. Durham turned in the doorway to look back at Katie. “Are you feeling all right, honey? You look a little pale.”
“No, Mom, everything’s fine,” she said, though she was dying to shout out her frustration. She hugged herself, trying to calm her rolling stomach. What was she going to do now? Jason Roberts was coming to dinner!
Five
Katie pushed the food around on her plate. Lasagna was one of her favorite dishes, but she just couldn’t work up an appetite. Fortunately, her mother carried most of the conversation. Katie couldn’t think of anything to say, and all Jan did was sit there with a goofy look on her face and smile.
Katie stretched her foot under the table and kicked her friend in the shin. “Stop staring,” she mouthed. Jan’s answer was a return kick, and Jan went back to watching Jason.
How did she get herself into these things? This was one of those situations that her mother would say she would laugh at when she was older. Maybe eons from now, after the mountains had turned to dust and risen again, but not now.
“Isn’t that right, Katie?” Mrs. Durham asked and Katie’s head popped up like a jack-in-the-box.
“I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t hear what you said.” All eyes were on her. She could feel the color rising in her cheeks.
“I was just telling Jason that you have high hopes for Willow King.”
Now she was going to be forced to speak. She tried for a smile and hoped it didn’t look too sickly. “That’s right” was all she could manage to say.
“Honey, do you feel all right? You’re usually quite the chatterbox. I hope you’re not getting sick.”
Katie groaned inwardly. Jason knew she felt just fine. He would attribute her bashful silence to himself—and would probably enjoy it. Well, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. “No, Mom. I’m just a little tired. King and I had a rough day today.” She glared at Jason, daring him to say one word about her trip down the shed row on her stomach.
Jason helped himself to another serving of lasagna. “If that colt’s legs ever str
aighten out, he should be one heck of a racehorse. He’s got the body of a runner: large hindquarters, deep chest, long legs, and lots of size.”
Katie grew defensive. “His legs will straighten out. You’ll see. John says that after a summer of running on pasture, he’ll be a whole new horse. John hasn’t been wrong about too many things.” She spoke confidently, then said a quick prayer that this wouldn’t be one of his mistakes. It couldn’t be. King had to make it.
“You’re lucky to be able to work with John. My father says he’s one of the best trainers around. He’s from the old school.”
“What do you mean by that?” Jan said, finally joining the conversation.
Jason picked up the salad bowl and forked some lettuce onto his plate. “My dad says these new trainers are in too much of a hurry to get their horses to the track. They run the legs off them with short, quick workouts, and the horses usually have leg trouble by the time they get to the races. Instead of giving them time off, the trainers patch them up—or drug them so they can’t feel the pain—and run them anyway.”
“But isn’t that illegal?” Katie was horrified that something like that could happen.
“Not all drugs are illegal. Lasix and bute are allowed at many tracks around the country, including Portland Downs.”
“What are Lasix and bute?” Katie was surprised that Jason knew so much about racehorses.
“Sometimes after a hard race, horses will bleed a little from the lungs or nostril lining. You’ll notice a small amount of blood coming out of their nostrils. You can put them on Lasix, and most of the time they won’t bleed again. If they do, they’re ruled off and can’t run anywhere. Bute is short for some fancy medical name. All you have to remember is that it’s like a big aspirin. It gets rid of their aches and pains. Of course, in Oregon it’s illegal to run a horse on either of these drugs unless the track veterinarian examines the horse and gives you permission.”
Katie looked at Jason with admiration. What a waste that he was seeing a no-brain like Cindy Ellis.
