Finny and the Boy from Horse Mountain

by Andrea Young

  A touch of cold tickled Finny’s shoulders. The sun had dropped past the horizon, its last rays burning the clouds, leaving long shadows. Finny gazed longingly up the mountain; she’d been watching and waiting for almost twenty-four hours.

  The last of the light was quickly fading. Tears began to well in her eyes. Finny, angry with herself for being so blind, had been waiting for Joe to say it even though he’d shown her in a hundred different ways how he felt. Now, because of her, he was up there on that formidable mountain, maybe hurt or in trouble.

  The tree line, thick and beautiful, showed no signs of horse or rider. Finny’s insides twisted. He said he’d be back. If she called for help, she’d break his trust or, worse, have him sent back to a life of misery with his uncle. Either one would be unforgivable. Finny closed her eyes. Joe had never let her down. She’d count to ten and he’d be there, coming back to her safe. With a prayer she began her count, giving several seconds between each number. When she finally whispered ten, she willed herself to open her eyes. Joe and Sky broke through the trees. Her heart stopped. Not sure she wasn’t seeing things, Finny rubbed her eyes hard, forcing the tears from them. Joe was there, real, solid, and safe.

  Finny made her way toward them through the tall grass. She saw Sky sweaty, dirty, happy, and healthy. Without a word Joe slipped off the horse. Finny, too choked up to speak and hardly able to breathe, reached up, touched his face, then kissed him softly on the lips. Joe drew Finny to him and held her tight. He took her face with both hands and kissed her again and again and again. Finny reveled in his warmth, in the feel of his arms around her. In how holding him, kissing him, and now loving him felt like the first right thing she had ever done.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  EARLY THE NEXT MORNING, SIDE BY SIDE, FINNY and Joe sat at Vel’s kitchen table. Their clasped hands rested on the tabletop. Vel got up from her chair and offered to make hot chocolate. It did her heart good seeing the kids she’d grown to care for so happy. “Joe, how’s the young horse here doing?”

  “Jenna’s going great, gentle as they come. Thanks to her, at least I’m not penniless.”

  “On that note, Joe, I expect you to stay here and I don’t want you to argue or fuss about it. You work so hard here you’ve earned a place to live.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Thank you.” Joe tried to smile, but losing his job and his own home still stung.

  “I think you should do some advertising, like flyers at the feed store, for a start,” Vel suggested.

  “I can do that. If I get two more horses that’s more than I’d make in a month at Silver Spur anyway. Maybe this was for the best.”

  “I think so too, for both of us,” Finny said. “Unfortunately, now that Sky has come around, I don’t have a jumping trainer.”

  “Yes you do,” Vel said as she put the steaming cups of cocoa down on the table.

  “What do you mean?”

  Vel left the room and came back with photo albums and spread them out in front of the pair.

  Finny sipped her cocoa and opened the first book. Picture after picture of Vel in the show ring, winning competition after competition. The next book was of all the magazine covers featuring Vel and her horses, and the articles written about them. The next book was full of Vel’s numerous trainer awards. Finny saw they spanned over twenty-five years. She was dumbstruck. She looked up at Vel, sweet unassuming Vel, who ten years ago had been named trainer of the year for the third consecutive year. Something Jeff Hastings had never achieved.

  “Oh, wow, you trained and competed show jumpers nationally?” Finny asked Vel with awe.

  “Sure did.”

  “I’m stunned. I never knew. How come you aren’t still training?”

  Vel let out a contemplative breath. The answer was long and complicated.

  “In a nutshell, I got into the sport because I loved horses. . . . They saved my life and made my dreams come true. It was time to pay them back.”

  Now that Vel was on board and Sky was ready, it was time to get serious. Vel asked Joe to start bringing the old jumps out from behind the barn. They needed to be repaired and repainted to be useful again. After cutting through the mass of weeds, Joe found a pile of thirty jump poles. Next to the poles was a flat tire. Joe had moved a dozen poles and cleared more weeds before he saw that attached to the flat tire was a pickup truck. After clearing more weeds, Joe discovered it was a 1951 Ford just like the one his dad had owned and so loved. With a shaky hand, Joe ran his fingers along the giant fenders, then down the hood. He couldn’t tell what color it had been since the paint had long been replaced by primer and rust. Using the bottom of his shirt, Joe rubbed the dirt off the driver’s side window and saw it was a manual, just like his dad’s, and the interior was in good shape considering its age. Joe all but cried when he saw the unique wooden bed. The truck was a classic. Joe, forgetting the jumps, ran to Vel.

  “Vel, you have a Fifty-one Ford behind the barn!” Joe told her, figuring she couldn’t have known since it was covered in weeds and abandoned.

  “Oh, yeah, that was my dad’s old truck. Hasn’t run in years.”

  “Why not?” Joe asked, beside himself with building excitement.

  “I don’t know. Forgot about it, to tell you the truth.”

  “You did?” Joe fought down the urge to say, Are you insane?

  “Well, yeah. Joe, if you like the truck? You can have i t .”

  Positive he was having a heart attack, Joe steadied his breathing.

  “You can’t mean it.”

  “I can and I do. Joe, you need to sit down, you’ve gone pale.”

  “You kidding? I’ve never been better. Vel, are you sure?”

  “Of course I’m sure.” Joe grabbed Vel in a bear hug, lifting her off her feet.

  “Thank you so much! When I get it running then I can help out even more around here and maybe get a horse trailer. Fin-ny!” Joe hollered, then disappeared around the barn.

  Vel, a bit shocked by Joe’s uncharacteristic exuberance, couldn’t help but laugh. Seeing him so happy was a very nice thing.

  Despite the time Joe dedicated to his new old truck, working with Finny and Sky, and training his client’s horse, he still managed to get the arena filled with brightly painted, newly fixed jumps of assorted types and colors within a few weeks.

  Vel entered the arena just as Joe was setting the line to a six-stride.

  “This arena looks even better than Silver Spur’s main ring, Joe.” Vel admired the angular coop, the artificial brick wall, the green-topped half-round. She was delighted to see the “Liverpool,” complete with a blue tarp beneath it to look like water—all the obstacles Sky would eventually face in a show ring.

  “That’s what we need, right, to train Sky to be a show jumper?” Joe pushed his hat back and used his sleeve to dry his forehead.

  “Joe, seriously, this is amazing. I’ve got to tell you, it’s fun to be doing this again. Finny is a very talented rider. She could go far if Sky turns out to be as talented as we think he is.”

  “I hope so, Vel. I want her to be happy.”

  Vel gave Joe a smile. “She is happy, Joe, very happy.”

  A contented smile crossed Joe’s face.

  “Speaking of happiness, how’re the night classes working out?”

  “It’s okay. Just mild torture.”

  Vel chuckled.

  Finny appeared with Sky. She was mounted and ready for her lesson with Vel.

  “Vel,” Joe said. “Sky loves to jump. I still can’t believe how quickly he took to it. While warming him up do things that keep him guessing a little. And jump as soon as you can.”

  “Will do, Joe. Thanks.”

  Finny began her warm-up. Sky felt relaxed and was listening well to her aids. After executing several transitions and circles to get Sky limber, she felt he was ready to jump.

  “Go trot the crossrail, Finny.”

  She nodded and made her ap
proach. Sky trotted up and stepped over, landing in a canter. He gave a playful toss of the head but that was it.

  “Do that a couple more times, then canter the near line in a six.”

  Finny did as instructed. Sky, light and soft, cantered the jumps with six strides between them.

  “Finny, collect him up and now do the line in seven.” Finny asked for a shorter stride and Sky shifted his weight more to his hindquarters and put in seven even strides with no problem.

  “Finny, Joe, I know he’s still green, but I think he’s ready to go to his first show. We need to see how he does in a strange place. We could take him and not enter him, just ride him around and let him get used to a busy show ground.”

  “Really?” Finny patted Sky, thrilled.

  “Yeah, I think we should. Has he ever been on a trailer?” Vel asked.

  Joe and Finny looked at each other.

  “I doubt it,” Finny said. “Can you imagine getting him this far and he won’t load? What a nightmare that would be.”

  Nothing about training Sky had been easy. Teaching horses to load could be difficult even with a cooperative horse.

  “If you kids could break this horse, I know you can get him in a trailer. Finny, let’s run to the feed store to see if there are any flyers for upcoming shows,” Vel said.

  Finny dismounted. “Joe, would you mind taking care of Sky?”

  “Not at all.” Finny handed Joe the reins. “Can you believe this, Joe? Us at a horse show!” Finny gave Joe a quick, excited kiss, then ran for Vel’s truck.

  Vel pulled up to the feed store and kept her truck idling, knowing Finny wouldn’t be long. Finny jumped out and was disappointed not to see Dale’s car. He was now dating Clara from Silver Spur and Finny was happy for them both.

  Sharon, the feed store manager, was working the counter.

  “What can I do for you, Finny? Alfalfa is on sale.”

  “No feed, just looking for any show flyers.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, looking for a show to take my horse to.” Finny scanned the large bulletin board.

  “You mean the crazy out-of-control one that sent Jeff Hastings to the hospital?”

  Finny froze.

  “I heard it attacks people.”

  “No, that’s not . . . completely true . . . and he’s gotten a lot better.” Finny saw a flyer for the next show and grabbed it.

  “It is true. I saw him run into Silver Spur and attack all the horses in the ring,” a voice said from behind Finny.

  Finny spun around. It was Sasha from Silver Spur, Elsa’s best friend.

  “Jeff said the horse is totally rogue and should be put down.”

  “No, he’s fine and getting better every day.” Finny’s eyes were burning.

  “Do us all a favor and let us know if you’re going to a show, so we can all stay home where it’s safe.”

  Finny turned her back on Sasha and hurried to the truck.

  “Apparently Sky is famous,” she told Joe as she climbed out of the truck.

  “Famous, how?” he asked.

  “Infamous I mean. The lady at the feed store knew who he was, practically laughed at the thought of him going to a show. Then Sasha from Silver Spur was there saying he’s dangerous and Jeff thinks he should be put down.”

  “You’re kiddin’ me. What did you say?”

  “Not much. I was so horrified I split.”

  “Did you get a flyer?”

  “I did. Here.” Finny handed Joe the paper.

  “A week from now. I think we can get him into a trailer by then. I say let’s go!”

  “That’s what Vel said, too, but I’m not going to think about it so I don’t freak out.”

  Joe laughed and hugged her. “It’s gonna be great, you’ll see.” Finny squeezed him tight.

  “Did you get more joint supplement and grain? We’re almost out of both,” Joe said.

  “Oh, no, didn’t think to check. Sorry, I’m such a dope.”

  “Let’s go now.”

  Finny sighed out a breath. “I don’t think I could show my face there.”

  “We’ll go to Colton County then. Prices are better anyway, it’d be worth the drive.”

  “Maybe there are show flyers there too, out where no one’s ever heard of Sky.”

  “I think you’d need the next state for that,” Joe said.

  Finny punched him in the arm. “You’re so not funny.”

  Forty-five minutes later, Joe, newly licensed, drove Vel’s truck into the Colton Feed and Supply parking lot. It was the first time either one had been to this much larger store. Joe headed inside as Finny checked the bulletin board outside for show flyers.

  Thirty seconds later Joe came bolting out the door and jumped back in the truck. He started the engine. “Finny get in!”

  “Joe, what about the stuff we need? What’s wrong?”

  “Later, hurry!”

  Finny, unnerved, jumped in and slammed the door. Joe sped out of the feed store parking lot.

  “What happened?”

  Joe looked out the truck’s back window. “I saw someone I used to know, someone who works for my uncle.”

  “Oh God, did he see you?”

  “I don’t think so.” Joe looked over his shoulder again. “Do you think your uncle is out here?”

  “He’s never come this far west before. I don’t know why he would now.”

  “What do you think that guy was doing here?”

  “Don’t know that either. He runs horses and cattle and other things. He’s a lowlife—he’d steal from his own grandmother.” Joe looked behind them again, let out a breath, and slumped back on the seat.

  “I’m sorry we came all this way for nothing.”

  “It’s no big deal.” She could plainly see how distressed he was.

  “Finny, is there a fairground around here?”

  “I think so.”

  Joe nodded but stayed quiet.

  “I can find out,” Finny offered. “If there’s a rodeo going that could explain why he’s here.”

  Joe nodded again, still distracted by his racing thoughts. Finny grabbed her cell phone and made some calls. Two minutes later she had her answer.

  “There’s a rodeo there for the rest of the week. That must be why he’s here.”

  Joe didn’t answer.

  “What’s going on? You look totally freaked and seeing you—a person that isn’t afraid of anything—scared is, well, scary.”

  “Sorry, Finny. Seeing him just . . . took me by surprise.”

  “Are you worried about your uncle?”

  Joe let out a sigh and rubbed his eyes. “He’s really bad news.”

  “What happened, Joe? You’ve never told me why you ran.”

  “I crossed the line, betrayed him. I was pretty sure he was going to kill me.”

  “Are you serious?” Finny grabbed his arm and held it. Joe glanced behind them again before looking over at Finny. He gave her a half smile.

  “I don’t know why I didn’t go earlier. I was stupid.”

  “Don’t say that. You were fifteen! Striking out on your own isn’t supposed to come up for three more years. Please tell me what happened.”

  “I was getting older, starting to question things. Uncle John didn’t like it when I asked questions. He didn’t like it when I spoke, period. We didn’t live normal. I know I told you we traveled in a truck and a camper. Uncle John slept in the camper and I slept in the backseat of the truck unless we were working a rodeo or a sale. Then he’d get a hotel room and sleep there. I still slept in the truck but at least got a place to shower and better food.”

  Finny looked over at Joe when he paused his story. He was staring straight ahead.

  “I pretty much grew up with the horses in the mountains. They were my family. The babies I’d watched being born were now four years old and down with us at the sale. I’d gentled most of them and they were fit and ready for families. You know, it may seem mean to take horses ou
t of the wild, but these days, horses don’t survive to old age out there and the government needs to keep the population down so sometimes they’re killed. I worked with them every day to get them ready for lives with people. What I hoped would be good lives with people.” Joe went quiet again and she saw his face change. He didn’t look like the self-assured person he had become; he looked like the scared kid she’d found behind the bus stop. Finny noticed that even though Joe’s gaze stayed mostly on the road ahead, he still periodically checked behind them.

  “So the day before the sale, six of our twenty-seven horses were in another pen. I always hung out to talk to anyone who looked at my horses so I could tell them all about them. But six were in a different section and nobody was going there. Two of the horses were so good they were kid-ready. I saw a family looking and I told them about Spirit in the next corral. The dad tells me, that corral is for the horses going to slaughter. I heard that and flipped. I ran to my uncle who was sitting by our truck and told him what happened, how there was this mistake and our horses were in the wrong corral. He looked at his buddies hanging out, drinking with him, and they all bust out laughing. He told me they were there because that’s where he put ’em. They were small and plain and he’d get more money per pound for their meat than we would in the sale.”

  Joe went quiet for the third time. Finny bit her lip and glanced over.

  “I sorta lost it. Knowing it’d do no good, I begged him to change his mind. All of them were broke and gentle. He didn’t care. He hated me, Finny . . . I mean, through to the core, hated me. He’d kill the horses just because I loved them.”

  “Joe, my God, I’m so sorry.”

  “He told his drunk buddies he needed to have a man-to-man talk with me so they split. Uncle John was wasted. He was mean when he was sober and a nightmare when he was drunk. He puts his arm ’round me like he’s gonna say something nice and punches me in the stomach. Then he slams me up against the truck and tells me I’m an embarrassment to him, cryin’ and carryin’ on. And how I’m useless and no good for anything just like my dad . . . saying how my dad betrayed him, destroyed their whole family. He slams me into the truck again and then goes off, like he’s crazy. He screams at me, It’s your fault; it’s your fault. She would have come back to me if it weren’t for you. She loved me first. . . . He was talking about my mother, Finny. I think that’s what drove them apart, why they hated each other. They both loved my mother. When he was telling me this . . . the look in his eyes.” Joe took a deep breath. Finny squeezed his arm.