Willow King

by Chris Platt

  It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him that it wasn’t a stupid horse race. A lot depended on King winning the Futurity. She was tired of seeing her mother work herself to exhaustion. But she clamped her mouth shut and looked at Jason—really looked at him. He was red in the face, and his hands were shaking as badly as hers. “You were worried about me,” she said with wonder.

  “Of course I was worried about you. Don’t you know you could have been killed?”

  Jason Roberts cared about her! What a day this had turned out to be. One moment she thought she was doomed, and the next minute she had a horse that was going to win the Futurity race and a guy who cared about her. Life was great. She gathered her soaring senses and calmed Jason down. Then they remounted their horses and walked back to the barn.

  King was cooled out by the time they reached the stable. She drew a bucket of warm water and wiped the dried sweat from his coat, then walked him a bit more before turning him loose to graze. She would have to tell John about her wild ride. She hoped he wouldn’t be angry with her. Most of all, she was worried that the run had hurt King’s legs. If her unplanned sprint had hurt the colt, she would never forgive herself.

  But King showed no sign of injury, so he was delivered to Willow Run as scheduled. John immediately set up a program. King’s training would begin the following morning. Katie was up an extra hour early so she could help with the horses before going to school.

  “Good morning, missy,” John said cheerfully as he pulled the tack off the rail and entered King’s stall. “You’re here just in time.”

  “Do you need some help?” Katie entered the stall behind him and picked the saddle cloth and pad from the floor, brushing off the clinging straw. She put the cloth high up on King’s withers, then slid it into place on his back, making sure all the hairs were smoothed in the right direction. Next came the pad, then the saddle.

  “I’ve got a job for you if you think you can handle it,” John said with a twinkle in his eye.

  “What’s that?” Katie was curious now. The old trainer looked as if he were up to something.

  “Seems we’ve got an exercise rider who’s out sick for a couple of days. Since you’ve been riding this colt, I thought you might like to start him on the track.”

  Katie’s heart skipped a beat. “You mean like a real gallop boy?”

  “That’s right. I’ll be ponying King for the first week,’til he gets used to things. You’re nearly old enough to get a license at the track. You might as well be learning along with this here colt. You’re about the right size for the job. Go get a hard hat out of the tack room, and let’s get to it.”

  Katie wanted to shout for joy. Never in her life had she imagined she would be able to ride on the big track. She had hinted to Mr. Ellis on several occasions, but he had always mumbled something about her not being strong enough. She knew it was just his polite way of saying he thought her handicap would prevent her from doing a good job. This was her chance to prove him wrong.

  Katie ran to the carpeted tack room that housed all the riding equipment. There were several helmets hanging on the wall. She chose the one with red and blue stripes and fit it onto her head, hooking the chin strap into its catch. When she returned, John had King out in the shed row and was ready to go.

  “First, we want to take these irons up a little higher than you’ve been used to. I’m going to teach you how to stand up in the irons and gallop racetrack style, but we don’t want them too high yet, ‘cause this colt isn’t exactly one hundred percent broke.”

  Katie bent her leg and waited for John to give her a boost into the saddle. Since the stirrups were always so high, jockeys and exercise riders were given a leg up when mounting a horse.

  It took her a few tries to get it right. She had to bounce a few times on her right leg, then use the pressure of the hand John had on her left leg to vault herself into the saddle. If she didn’t have enough spring in her bounce, she couldn’t get high enough in the air to get her leg over the saddle, but if she bounced too much, she could be thrown over the horse and land on the other side.

  After a few tries, she finally got it right, and they headed out to the three-quarter-mile training track. The reins of the race bridle were different from any she had ever seen. There was rubber covering the ends the rider held. John said it was to keep the reins from slipping through her hands when she was working the horse.

  When they reached the track, they entered the gate and rode clockwise at a walk on the outside rail.

  “Always enter the gate clockwise, and backtrack at a walk or trot for a hundred yards or so,” John instructed. “This keeps your horse calm and teaches him that he isn’t going to jump right into the running as soon as he hits the track. That could cause an accident.”

  Several horses passed by at a gallop. King pranced and tossed his head, eager to be off. “Easy, boy.” Katie settled him down.

  “When it’s time to turn around, always turn him toward the inner rail and make him stop for a second before you start. Take the time to walk him first, then break him into a trot, then a gallop. And always remember, the inside is for the faster-working horses. If you’re just going to gallop like we’re doing today, stay toward the center of the track.”

  They turned and stopped, then started King down the track.

  Katie learned how to set the reins for maximum control, so the horse was working more against himself than her arms, and how to stand in the stirrups with her body weight forward over the withers, the way the jockeys did. It was such an awkward position for her at first that her legs were exhausted by the time she finished the one-mile workout.

  “Be here at the same time for the next couple of days, and we’ll get you some more practice. Okay, Katie girl?”

  “You bet! Oh, and, John, thanks for the chance.” She turned to head back to her house. She had a half hour to get ready before the school bus came.

  Twelve

  For the next several days, Katie and King learned the workings of racetrack etiquette. Even after the other gallop boy came back to work, John continued to use her to exercise the colt.

  “You’re doing just fine,” he assured her. “This colt is working real good for you, but we may have to put a stronger rider up when he starts getting racey. We can’t have him running away with you.” He looked up at Katie and winked. “Guess you already know what that’s all about.”

  She knew John was right, but she was still a little disappointed. Even though it had scared her, she had thrilled to every moment of their mad dash across the pasture. How much more fun it would be to pound around the smooth surface of the track with a clock to gauge their speed.

  John noticed the frustrated look on her face and tried to soothe her injured feelings.

  “Don’t look so downcast, girl. I didn’t say you’d never get to take him for a run. I just want to make sure that he doesn’t start getting away from you when we want him to go slow. We don’t need him hurting himself. It’s hard enough to keep these horses together as it is.”

  As the days passed, Katie grew stronger and more sure of her capabilities. The other riders helped her as much as they could, and she was grateful to have such experienced people to work with.

  Trouble struck on the first day of summer vacation. Cindy, who rarely made it out to the track so early in the morning, was standing at the rail when Katie pulled King up and walked him back to the exit gate.

  “What are you doing out on the track?” Cindy gave her an accusing look. “Does my father know you’re doing this?”

  Cindy was always difficult, but ever since the horse show two years ago—and especially since she’d found out Jason had been spending so much time with Katie—Cindy had become even worse. She constantly found fault with Katie’s work, even when there wasn’t any, and she threatened to tell her father. Normally, Katie wouldn’t have cared, but she needed the facilities to train King, and she enjoyed the company of the people she worked with.

  “Da
ddy won’t let me ride any of the racehorses, and you’re not any older or better than I am. Why should you get to do it?” Cindy frowned and stood with her hands on her hips, glaring at her.

  Katie was at a loss for words. She had assumed anything John wanted to do was okay with the stable owner. It never occurred to her that Mr. Ellis might not know that she had graduated from groom to exercise rider. Now that she thought about it, they had been galloping King very early in the morning. Mr. Ellis usually showed up later to watch the older horses work out. He had never been there when she had come off the track.

  John stepped forward and put a lead shank on King, walking him off the track. “You just run along now, Miss Ellis. I say Katie’s riding this colt, and that’s that.”

  “We’ll see.” Cindy turned in a huff and ran off toward the house.

  “Are we in trouble, John? Can Cindy prevent me from riding Willow King?”

  “She can try, but what it all boils down to is what’s best for the horse. As long as you do well by this colt, Mr. Ellis won’t have any reason to complain about you riding him.” John waited for Katie to slip the bridle from King’s head, then he put the halter on and buckled it.

  “But he’s my horse.”

  “That may be true, but this is his farm, and this colt is running under his stable name.”

  Katie felt like kicking something, most of all Cindy. Why didn’t the girl just leave her alone and mind her own business? What did Cindy care if Katie got to ride on the track? The girl was such a poor rider, she would probably get somebody hurt if she was allowed to exercise the racehorses.

  The next morning John surprised Katie by telling her that King was ready for his first timed workout and that she would be the rider aboard.

  “We’re only going to breeze him a quarter of a mile. I don’t want him going full out,” he instructed. “Back him up just a little bit, then gallop him around easy. When you come up on the quarter pole, ease him over to the rail and cluck to him. Leave your whip here, ‘cause I want him working on his own. I don’t want you pushing him.”

  King must have felt her excitement because he chomped at the bit and pranced all the way to the track. “Easy, boy,” she soothed. “We don’t want you running off before it’s time. You don’t want to make me look bad, do you?”

  As she rode King down the backstretch, she spotted a patch of yellow along the rail. Cindy was standing at the fence beside her father and John. The two men had their heads together and seemed to be in a heated argument. Cindy smiled sweetly and waved as Katie rode past.

  Katie’s heart dropped. Judging by the victorious grin on the brat’s face, this would be the last chance she would have to ride King while he was in training. The colt felt the trembling in her hands and jerked at the bit.

  “Not now, boy,” she said as she brought the colt under control. “This time we’re going to do it perfect.”

  When they approached the quarter pole, Katie looked over her shoulder to make sure there wasn’t another rider coming up behind her, then eased King down next to the rail. She loosened her reins just a bit and clucked him into a faster stride. When she was fifteen yards from the red-and-white pole, she squatted into a jockey position and let King have his head, being careful to still keep a snug grip on the reins for support. The colt surged ahead, lengthening his stride as the dirt flew under his hooves. Katie felt the sting of his mane as it whipped against her face in a wild frenzy. They were flying!

  All too soon, they passed the finish line. Katie stood up in the irons, letting King run a few more strides before she started to slow him from his blazing pace. If he were pulled up too quickly, he could seriously injure himself. She gently applied pressure on the bit, speaking softly to him, easing him back a little at a time. King acted as if he wanted to continue his run, but he responded to Katie’s commands, slowing to a gallop, then pulling into a trot, then a walk.

  “Good going, Katie,” John said as he stepped up to grab King. The colt pranced off the racetrack, dragging John with him. “Whoa there, fella. No need to be getting headstrong just because you had a good workout.”

  “How’d he do?” Katie was excited, but she was also afraid to hear what Mr. Ellis might have to say.

  “He worked in twenty-three and change,” Mr. Ellis said. “Not bad for a colt’s first breeze. That’s better time than some of my older horses are working in.” He looked to the trainer and nodded his head. “I think she’ll do, John. Just keep going as you have been. If problems arise, we’ll handle them when we come to them.”

  Katie sat up straighter on King and gave the stable owner a big smile. “I won’t let you down, Mr. Ellis.”

  “I know you won’t, Katie.”

  Cindy sulked behind her father. For once, she hadn’t gotten her way. Katie waited until both the adults’ heads were turned, then gave in to a childish urge. She turned to Cindy and stuck out her tongue, making a horrible face in the process. If Jason were here, he would call her a Stooge, but she didn’t care; it felt good.

  As the summer wore on, Katie didn’t see much of Cindy, except when Jason was around, but she knew that Cindy wasn’t done with her yet. Somewhere, her jealousy would raise its ugly head, and then there would be a price to pay.

  King was to be shipped to Portland Downs racetrack in August, so he could be readied for the September meet. He had to have two officially timed workouts on record before he could start in his first race. John and Mr. Ellis also wanted to put a few races into the colt before the big Futurity.

  Once at the track, King would be introduced to his new rider. Katie didn’t have her gallop license yet, and no one was allowed on the track without a valid track identification. Besides, she would be in school then, and Portland was an hour away. She didn’t have a license to drive a car either, so it would be impossible for her to get back and forth.

  King worked well through the summer. He had grown in muscle and height, and he was moving well out of the starting gates. The only worry John had was for his legs. Most colts usually bucked their shins within the first sixty days of hard training.

  “It’s kind of like shin splints for an athlete,” John explained. “They get a warm, painful swelling on the front of their cannon bone, and they have to be laid off for at least thirty days. Fortunately, it rarely ever happens to them twice.”

  One day as she was finishing up late, Katie heard footsteps coming up the shed row. The horses had been put to rest hours ago. It was unusual for someone to be in the barn at this time of night. One of the grooms always did a check around ten o’clock, but that was still an hour away.

  She fastened King’s bandage and stood to greet whoever was there. She rose just in time to see Cindy open the tack room door, looking in both directions before she quickly stepped inside.

  Katie’s curiosity was piqued. What was Cindy doing in the race barn? All of her tack was kept in the upper stable.

  Katie ducked down to see through the crack in King’s stall door. Cindy wouldn’t be able to see her. Within a few minutes, Cindy emerged with a race bridle and one of the exercise saddles over her arm. She quickly closed the tack room door and hurried down the shed row.

  Katie let herself out of King’s stall and followed at a safe distance. She peeked around the corner and saw Cindy disappear into a stall halfway up the barn. A few minutes later, she led a horse out. It was Jester, and he was wearing the racetrack gear.

  Katie pulled back quickly when Cindy mounted and turned Jester down the aisle. She ran back to King’s stall and waited.

  In a few moments, Cindy rode past. She had her irons raised to the height the exercise riders used, and she was trying—not very successfully—to stand in the stirrups the way the jockeys did.

  What was she trying to prove? Katie wondered. Was she hoping to get good enough that her father would let her gallop his racehorses? The day that happened was the day Katie would stop riding at Willow Run. Cindy Ellis on horseback was an accident waiting to happen.

&nbs
p; Her heart went out to Jester, but she told herself that the day was swiftly approaching when she would be able to get Jester back. She waited until Cindy and Jester turned the corner, then quickly let herself out of the barn.

  As August came, John wanted to give King one last breeze before they sent him to the big track, so Katie was up early on a Saturday morning to ride. Jason had promised to stop by and watch the workout before he left for a cutting horse show in Portland. She hoped Cindy was staying in bed. It was always uncomfortable when the three of them were together.

  On the way to King’s barn, she stopped by to say hello to Jester and give him a treat, but he wasn’t in his stall. She thought it odd but figured that with the nice weather he had been left out in the pasture overnight.

  Jason was helping John tack up King when Katie arrived at the barn.

  “Are you ready to set a new land speed record?” Jason teased.

  John adjusted the pads and placed the saddle on King’s back. “Don’t be giving her any crazy ideas. I want a slow workout today.” He tightened the girth, then signaled for Jason to give Katie a leg up.

  Jason grinned as he helped her onto the horse. Katie could feel her cheeks burning. She felt giddy inside when he smiled at her like that.

  “Good luck, Katie. Show ’em what you got.” Jason gave her a thumbs-up sign.

  “Thanks.” She smiled and turned her concentration to King. This was an important day. She couldn’t afford to divide her attention.

  John gave her instructions on the way to the track.

  “I want a nice, easy breeze for a half mile. Nothing fancy, just enough to leg him up for his official work at the big track.” He stopped before they entered the gate. “Make sure he doesn’t get away from you, girl. He’s got some heat in those legs. We don’t need him bucking his shins now. We need to get him in one of the first races, so we have a race date under our belt. If he wants to blow his shins after that, we can afford to give him a month off, but not now.”