Willow King

by Chris Platt

  Katie turned to leave. She still couldn’t face him.

  “Katie, please wait,” Jason called as he stepped off his horse and tethered him to a post. “This may be the last chance I have to speak to you for a while.”

  She turned on shaky legs and walked to where Jason stood. The blood pounded so loudly in her ears that she could barely hear him speak.

  “My uncle in Oklahoma had a heart attack, and I’m going to move down there for a while to help out.”

  Katie reached out to stroke the gelding’s nose. Her hand shook so badly that it reminded her of a butterfly in flight. Jason expected her to speak, but she wasn’t sure the words would come if she opened her mouth. She knew he was talking about his favorite uncle. Jason must be hurting pretty badly right now.

  She was hurting, too. But for Jason she would put aside her burden and try to make his a little lighter. He was staring at her, seeming to will her to speak. She’d stick to a safe subject. “I’m sorry to hear that. I hope he’ll be okay. How long will you be gone?”

  “Probably a year.”

  Her heart dropped. A whole year! “What about school? You can’t just drop out of school.”

  “I’ll enroll down there. Gee, by the time I get back, you’ll be in high school.”

  She smiled bashfully and nodded, stuffing her jittery hands into her jeans. “By the time you get back, King will be old enough to break.”

  “I’d like to help—if you need me.”

  She could feel him studying her face.

  “Katie, I never meant to hurt your feelings. I’d like to part as friends.”

  She saw the honesty in his face and felt like a spoiled brat for treating him the way she had. How could she make him see her as mature when she acted like a child?

  Katie looked up into his eyes. This would be the last time she would see him for a while. She didn’t want to blink and miss a moment of the way he looked. “Sure, Jason. I’d like that.”

  He extended his hand over the fence and they shook on it. “You’re special, Katie Durham. I’m glad we’re friends. You keep that colt growing, and we’ll get him to the races when I come back.”

  Jason put his foot in the stirrup and mounted up. He smiled and waved good-bye, then gave his horse a poke in the sides. He jetted off across the pasture, glancing once over his shoulder before he disappeared over the hill.

  “Just like in the movies,” she told Jan as they sat at the kitchen table, sipping milk and eating chocolate chip cookies.

  “I told you you were wrong about him, Katie.”

  Katie rolled her eyes. “You never give up, do you?”

  “Boy. No Jason for a whole year,” Jan said.

  “We wouldn’t see him anyway. He’s going to high school, remember? We’ll be stuck in junior high.”

  Jan perked up. “But when he comes back, we’ll be in high school, too.”

  “Yeah, but that seems like forever away.” Katie sighed and looked out the window.

  “I still can’t believe Cindy had the nerve to lie to you about Jason being her boyfriend. Why would she do that? She had to know we’d find out the truth,” Jan said as she reached for another cookie.

  “I think she had every intention of making him her boyfriend. How many guys do you know who wouldn’t jump at the chance to have Cindy for their girlfriend? I think her plan just kind of backfired somehow.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I’m glad he didn’t fall for her.”

  “Me too,” Katie agreed. “Do you know she still acts like they’re going out? I want to laugh at her every time she says something about Jason.”

  “I don’t know why you put up with her,” Jan said between bites of her cookie.

  “I need the money her father pays me. Raising a colt isn’t cheap. Every dime my mom makes goes to pay bills. I have to come up with the money for King. It won’t be long until it’s time to wean him. Then the feed bill will really go sky-high.”

  “Money or no, she’s going to make you look like a fool when you ride into that show ring on the back of that flea-bitten old Appy.”

  “He’s really not so bad.” Katie put down her cookie and smiled mischievously. “I’ve got ten days to work on him.”

  Jan sat up in her chair. “What is it? You’ve got that look in your eye. I’ve got a feeling it has to do with Cindy, and I think I’m going to like it. Count me in.”

  “I was just thinking. That old Appy is three-quarters Thoroughbred. He looks like a racehorse with spots. They keep him in good shape—it’s just that they never care for his coat. I bet if we cleaned him up, he’d look passable.”

  “What are you getting at, pal?”

  “He’s got a good mouth and smooth gaits. I bet if I worked with him a little, we could make a pretty decent showing for ourselves.”

  Jan smiled. “Good enough to beat Cindy on Jester?”

  “Maybe. Jester is well trained, and Cindy is doing much better with her equitation, but when she gets upset about something, sometimes she slips back into her old habits. Jester is good, but he can’t win on his own.”

  Jan clapped her hands. “I love it! When do we start?”

  Katie picked up the dirty dishes and stacked them in the sink. “We’ll have to get him over here so I can work on him, but I don’t want Cindy to suspect anything. We can’t let her know that he’s gone from the farm.”

  “You could tell Mr. Ellis that the gray mare is sore and you need the Appy to pony King. Cindy has dancing lessons tomorrow. You’ll have an extra two hours after school to get the horse out of there. You told me they were breaking in a new pony horse, so they don’t use the Appy that much. Once he’s gone, Cindy will never miss him. She doesn’t pay much attention to the racehorses anyway.”

  “Brilliant!” Katie hugged her friend. “We start tomorrow.”

  Old John delivered the Appy the next afternoon. When Katie’s mother saw the trail of dust the horse van kicked up as it came up the drive, she called her daughter.

  John unloaded the scruffy-looking steed from the van and led him to a stall. He looked in on Grey Dancer and King, sweeping the hat from his head and dusting it off before he resettled it.

  “This mare doesn’t seem to be off in her footing. Where’d you say she was sore?” He turned with a puzzled look on his face, waiting for an answer.

  “Well, er…,” Katie stammered. “She’s not exactly sore.” Katie lowered her eyes. She didn’t want to lie to John, but how did she explain the truth? Revenge and childish pranks didn’t go over well with adults.

  John noticed her nervousness, and a small grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with next week’s show, would it?”

  Katie lifted her chin and looked him in the eye. “Yes, it does. I’m supposed to ride this old horse in competition with Cindy.”

  “Well, now, is that so?” John tipped his hat to a jaunty angle. “You know, before this horse came to the ranch, he used to belong to a little girl who loved to show. Of course, that was a long time ago, and who’s to say he remembers any of it. She sold him when she bought some big, fancy horse, but as I recall, this old boy won a lot of blue ribbons for that little gal.” John smiled as he headed back to the truck. “You just be sure you don’t wear him out ponying that colt,” he teased, then climbed into the rig and left.

  Katie threw a flake of hay into the manger, then went to grab her brush box. She stared in dismay at the horse’s mud-covered, burr-infested coat. “We’ve got our work cut out for us, ol’ boy. You just keep munching on that hay, and I’ll have you done in no time.” That was laughable. It would take her several hours to get all of the junk out of his mane and tail. She pulled out the currycomb and rubber curry and went to work.

  The tiny metal teeth of the round currycomb bit into the dried mud that clung to the horse’s coat. When the dirt was loosened, she used the rubber curry in a circular motion all over his body. The old horse heaved a sigh and relaxed, cocking one hind foot
into a resting position as he enjoyed the royal treatment.

  “They’ve been treating you horribly since you were turned over to the pleasure horse area of the farm,” Katie said. The Appy’s ears flicked back to catch the sound of her voice. “Cindy hasn’t been doing her job. I’ll have to talk to John about getting you back in the racing barn. Your coat used to be such a beautiful shade of gray. With all of this dirt covering you, you can’t even tell you’ve got a white blanket with black spots. You look all one color.”

  Twenty minutes later, she had worked all the mud clumps out of his coat. He was still covered in a thick layer of brownish dust, and so was she, but at least you could see what color he was meant to be. Now came the hard part—the burrs. She reached for the mane and tail comb and started to work on the forelock, beginning at the ends of the hair and working upward toward the roots.

  “Katie?”

  She had been concentrating so hard that she hadn’t heard Jan approach. She set down her comb to take a short break.

  “Boy, you can really see the change already. Do you need any help? It looks like you still have a long way to go.”

  “Thanks. There’s no way I’m going to turn down help on this project. This could be an all-day grooming session.”

  They set to work, Jan starting on the tail and Katie finishing the forelock and working her way down the mane. When she was finished with that, she reluctantly eyed the burr-infested hair at the back of his fetlocks.

  “Why don’t we just cut it off?” Jan said. “We’ve got to trim that hair anyway.”

  “Good idea. I’ll go get the clippers. He needs a bridle path cut, and the whiskers on his muzzle have got to be shaved before the show. Might as well get it all done at once. Then we’ll just have to touch him up for the show.”

  “What’s this horse’s real name?” asked Jan. “All I’ve ever heard him called was Appy.”

  Katie shrugged. “That’s all I’ve ever known him by.”

  “But he’s got to have a name. You don’t want to have the ring announcer say, ‘And in first place, it’s Katie Durham riding Appy!’ do you?”

  Katie snorted. “Yeah. Like I’m really going to be called for a ribbon.”

  “Well, you could,” Jan insisted.

  “And pigs can fly.” Katie laughed again. “The main thing I have to worry about is getting him through the class without any major blunders, like running over the judge. I’ll call John tonight and see what his registered name is.” She saw the satisfied smirk on Jan’s face. “Only because I need a name for him on the entry form.”

  “I think this horse might surprise you,” Jan predicted.

  An hour later, when the horse was brushed, clipped, bathed, and drying in the sun, both girls were amazed.

  “Wow!” Jan stood staring at the transformed animal. “Who would have thought there was a show horse under all that mud?” She looked pointedly at Katie. “You still don’t think you’ve got a chance at a ribbon?”

  Katie picked up the sweat scraper and sponge, and threw them back into the wash bucket. “I’ve got to admit, I’m impressed. I’ve never seen him look this good before. Every time I’ve seen him in the past, he’s been lathered up from a hard day of ponying. But you know as well as I do, Jan, he’s got to have good gaits and work with his rider; if we can put it all together, we might have a shot.”

  “I can’t wait to see Cindy’s face when she gets a look at this horse.”

  “You’ll have to ask your mom to bring the video camera.”

  They laughed all the way back to the house, and made plans to meet the following day for practice.

  The Appy’s ears pricked forward when he heard Jan ride up the driveway on her chestnut mare. Katie pulled the girth on the Appaloosa’s saddle snug, then checked the fitting of the bridle. “Perfect timing,” she called as she waved to her friend. She put her foot in the stirrup and mounted up. “Let’s see what this ol’ boy can do. Oh, excuse me, he has a real name now. Let’s see what Sir Galahad can do.”

  “Sir Galahad?” Jan laughed. She paused and looked the two of them over, then nodded her head. “Yeah, I like it. He just might be the knight that carries you to a blue ribbon at this show. Let’s get to work.”

  The next several days were spent practicing the walk, trot, and canter, and riding in circles to get Sir Galahad used to responding to Katie’s leg pressure. By the middle of the week, he was bending well in both directions, and looking like a true show horse.

  “He’s not perfect,” Katie said, “but he may be good enough to get one of the lower ribbons … maybe a sixth place or honorable mention.”

  “Won’t that just torque little Miss High-and-Mighty?” Jan chuckled. “I can’t wait to see her jaw drop when she gets a load of you two.”

  “I’ll have to tell her that I’m picking the horse up the day before so I can practice on him and that I’ll meet her at the show. She won’t know that I’ve had him all week. This is going to be fun.” Katie almost felt guilty for pulling this trick on the unsuspecting Cindy. Almost, but not quite.

  The morning of the show dawned bright and clear. Katie was up at sunrise, grooming Sir Galahad and braiding his mane and tail. Their first class was an English Pleasure class, followed by an Equitation class, then bareback Equitation. She didn’t want to get there too early and spoil the surprise.

  Jan and her mother were supposed to pick her up at seven thirty. With the half-hour drive to the fairgrounds, they would get there about fifteen minutes before time to enter the ring for the first class. Jan was also riding in several classes.

  When Katie was finished with Sir Galahad, she ran into the house to change into her show outfit. Normally, she would wait until they got to the arena, but there wouldn’t be time today. Once they reached the show grounds, there would be just enough time to saddle up and get to the ring.

  A car horn sounded. Katie picked up her riding helmet and ran out the door.

  “I’ll be there as soon as I get this lunch packed,” her mother called after her. “Good luck, honey.”

  Jan dropped the loading ramp on the horse trailer. “We’ve got to hurry.”

  They quickly loaded Sir Galahad, then drove to the show. When they arrived, they had to search for a parking spot. All the good ones had been taken by the early arrivals.

  The fairgrounds were alive with activity. Contestants warmed up their horses in designated areas, while others, who were in later classes, groomed their slick mounts. Horses munched lazily from hay nets and called to their stable mates. Riders pinned their identification numbers to their jackets and did last-minute checks on tack. Katie smiled. She loved this time of year. No school to worry about—just horses, horses, horses!

  “Mom, could you run and get our numbers while Katie and I saddle up?” Jan asked.

  Just as they climbed from the truck, Cindy rode over on Jester.

  “Where have you been? You should have gotten here an hour ago,” Cindy chastised. “You’d better hurry. The class begins in ten minutes.” She quit grouching and a haughty smile lit her face. “I guess it just took a little extra time to make the old Appy presentable. See you in the ring.” She stuck her nose in the air and trotted off confidently.

  Jan snorted. “She thinks she’s already got this one won.”

  “Jester did look good,” Katie pointed out.

  “Yeah, but Jester and her three-hundred-dollar riding boots won’t do her a bit of good if she can’t stay in the saddle or make him pick up the correct lead.”

  Just then the announcer gave the first call to the gate.

  “Grab the saddles. We’ve got about five minutes before we go in,” Katie said as she picked up her saddle pad and placed it on Sir Galahad’s back, then settled the saddle into place. She shortened her left stirrup a notch to accommodate her leg. Jan’s mother arrived with their numbers and pinned them to the back of their show jackets.

  Under ideal conditions, Katie would have liked to have had an extra hour to ride a new
mount around the arena. But although it had been many years since the Appy had been in the show ring, he had been to the Salem Fairgrounds many times to pony Willow Run horses in the races. To him this was just another day’s work.

  She slipped the bit between Sir Galahad’s teeth, then rechecked her tack and mounted up. “Let’s go, Jan. They’re opening the gate.”

  Cindy was at the back of the line of horses, craning her neck to look for them. They were almost beside her before recognition dawned in her eyes, and her mouth dropped open, working like a fish out of water.

  “He looks real good, doesn’t he, Cindy?” Jan laid the compliment on thick. “Who would have guessed there was a genuine show horse under all the mud and burrs? Good luck in your class.”

  Cindy snapped her mouth shut and gave them a dirty look. She whirled Jester around and trotted into the ring.

  Jan smirked. “She doesn’t look too confident now.”

  “I don’t know.” Katie watched the determined set of Cindy’s shoulders. “Maybe we shouldn’t have done this. She’s really mad.”

  “Don’t worry about her. She wasn’t too concerned for you when she asked you to ride a flea-bitten nag into competition. Her only aim was to humiliate you. Now get in there and do your best.”

  “You’re right, Jan.” Katie gathered her reins and entered the ring at a trot, rising and falling in perfect time to the horse’s gait.

  There was a half a ring distance between her and Cindy. She could see the girl turning her head to watch her and Sir Galahad. She was tempted to stare back, but she knew she would need all of her concentration to make her horse perform to the best of his ability. “Easy, boy,” she soothed as the judge asked them to slow to a walk and reverse direction.

  The next command was for the canter. Katie asked the old horse for the gait, but he picked up the wrong lead on the first try. She immediately pulled him back to a trot and tried again. This time he picked up the correct lead. She could only hope the judge’s eyes hadn’t been on her when she made that blunder.