For The Love of Horses (Pegasus Equestrian Center)

by Diana Vincent

  Sierra had her ideals of what she wanted in a relationship: true love manifested in uninhibited affection, compatibility in beliefs, trust, and open communication; these were all high on the list. Allison and she had often talked long and intensely, as well as often hilariously, about the ideal man, so she knew what she wanted.

  She thought about how River measured up to her standards. He certainly didn’t hold back in putting his arm around her, holding her hand, or kissing her. But, does he love me? He had never told her so, but then, they had only been going out a few months, and they were only juniors in high school. She could accept that it might be too soon for declarations of love.

  They certainly shared mutual beliefs about horsemanship. She knew River valued honesty. He was hard-working, dependable, and very kind and patient with all the horses, and most of the time, it was how he treated her. She wondered now about the times he had been surly or just plain rude – did it all stem from recent abuse?

  Images of Corazón when River had first brought him to Pegasus came unbidden into her mind. Whoa, couldn’t the aggressive, rude behavior displayed by the abused horse parallel River’s behavior? She had never thought of that before…and look how well Cory has turned out! “Be patient with him,” her mother had advised.

  Thinking of her mother, a rush of emotion caused her throat to tighten and tears to collect in the corners of her eyes. How lucky I am! Her heart swelled with the love she felt for her mother, and how secure she felt in her mother’s love…something River may never have had, or lost when his mother was killed.

  “I will call him as soon as I’m done with the dishes,” she resolved out loud. Whatever their relationship might evolve into, she was willing to risk it. She missed him!

  Someone knocked at the front door. Must be Ron, Sierra thought to herself as she pulled the plug from the sink, done with the washing. She heard her mother getting up from the sofa, and then her heart stopped when she heard her mother say, “Hello, River, come in.”

  River; oh my God! I’ve been crying! She looked around the kitchen desperately for a mirror.

  “Sierra,” her mother called, and then speaking in a normal tone to River, “She’s in the kitchen.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Landsing.”

  Sierra splashed water on her face and dried it with the dish towel, then peered at her reflection in the side of the stainless steel toaster. A blurry, distorted image reflected back giving her no idea how red or blotchy her face might be. She sucked in a breath, her heart palpitating, and her palms and underarms damp with nervousness.

  Footsteps sounded across the living room floor and then halted in the kitchen doorway. Sierra turned hesitantly to face River.

  He looked terrible; standing with slumped posture, shadows under his eyes, and his mouth turned down. His black hair glistened with raindrops and dampness darkened the shoulders of his jacket. Raining out, she noted as she drank him in with her eyes and then, he is the most beautiful person I have ever seen! She suddenly wanted to laugh as she thought, chemistry, but then her face contorted into wanting to cry.

  She ran to him and his arms opened up to enfold her. She hugged him around the waist and buried her head against his chest, breathing in his wonderful smell, and hoping to hide the tears spilling forth again.

  “Sierra…angelita,” he whispered against her hair and then kissed the top of her head.

  She loved it when he called her that!

  “Have I made you cry?” he asked softy.

  She looked up to meet his eyes and noted wetness in the corners. He’s crying! “I’m just so glad to see you,” she answered in a choked voice.

  He leaned his face in with his dark, wet eyes smoldering, and they kissed, long and deeply.

  “I came over to tell you about that night with Laila,” River said when they finally freed their lips from each other and he could speak. “I promise; no more secrets.”

  “You don’t have to,” Sierra said, surprising even herself. “I do trust you; I’m just so jealous and I hate myself for being that way.”

  “No, don’t; I’m sorry. And I want to tell you about Laila.” He kissed her again. “I’ve missed you so much.”

  “Me too, I’ve been miserable. In fact, I had just decided I was going to call you right after I finished the dishes.”

  “Kids, I’m going to take my shower, and then get into bed to read. Why don’t you come into the living room?” Pam interrupted from the hallway.

  “Thanks, Mom,” Sierra said, and breaking away from River, she rushed over to give her mother a hug.

  “You’ve already made up,” Pam whispered to her daughter, making it a statement as she noted the expression on Sierra’s face, in spite of being wet with more tears.

  “We have!”

  Pam retreated into her bedroom and River followed Sierra to the living room where they sat down on the sofa, River with his arms around her and Sierra nestled against his chest.

  “You don’t have to tell me,” Sierra repeated.

  “I talked to Laila tonight to make sure she’s okay with me telling you what happened to her, and she says I should. So, you know my cousin Warren who joined the army and I thought he was in Iraq?”

  “Yes, I remember.”

  “Turns out he’s in Special Forces now and he wasn’t in Iraq, but Afghanistan. Something bad happened to him over there and now he acts crazy. Laila says he’s in psychiatric treatment but he got a weekend pass and called her up. He treated her very rough and really scared her.”

  “Did he hurt her?”

  “No, just upset her a lot. She says he practically raped her. They used to go out and were good friends. She says he’s a different person now and not very nice.”

  “Oh…River, I’m so sorry I made such a fuss.”

  “No, I’m sorry for not just explaining to you. I should have told you I was going to meet her that night and why.”

  “I just don’t want us to have any secrets. I do trust you. Don’t you think you can trust me?” She shifted her head to look up at him with an earnest expression.

  “Of course I trust you,” River answered, startled. “It’s never been about not trusting you.”

  Sierra turned her face to snuggle back against his chest, sensing it would be easier for him to talk without her looking at him, and she waited patiently for him to find words.

  “It’s just…my family is so screwed up. You already know what my father is like. My aunt is just as bad an alcoholic, and my cousin Steve is into any drug he can get his hands on. The only one decent was Warren, but he’s always had a temper and could fly into a rage very easily. I probably shouldn’t be surprised that being in a combat area would tip him over.”

  Sierra pressed her head against River’s chest when she felt his arms tighten around her shoulder.

  “My father signed over custody of me to my aunt, since he was away so much of the time at the track, and that way she got a welfare allotment for me. What a witch,” he breathed the last out more to himself. “When João retired from racing and leased that farm, I used to stay with him a lot. He tried to get custody of me as a foster kid but my aunt would lose money and she knew how to play the system whenever the social workers came around, so he couldn’t do it. It didn’t matter. Hazel didn’t care where I stayed, just as long as she got her check.”

  When River didn’t say anything more for several minutes, Sierra said, “I’m so glad I got to know João.”

  “Me too.” He kissed the top of her head. “I just wish I had behaved better around him. We didn’t always get along, but it was mostly because of school. Once I fixed up my own space outside of my aunt’s house, I didn’t stay with João very much after that. Maybe if I had, when he had his heart attack…maybe I could have done something.”

  “Oh, River, you can’t blame yourself for that.” She looked up to find a deep frown on his face and looking off in the distance over her head. He shook his head but didn’t look down to meet her eyes. “He was a goo
d friend of your mother’s,” Sierra spoke in a soft voice.

  He nodded and said, “Yeah.”

  “I wish I could have met your mother,” she said on a long sigh and looked up at him again.

  This time he met her eyes and with a slight smile, said, “Yeah, me too.”

  “Can you tell me anything about her?” She held her breath in anticipation, and her chest filled with warmth, resting in River’s arms and thinking, he’s talking to me!

  “Sometimes I can’t even remember what she looks like…but she was beautiful.” Sierra waited in patient silence as River thought about what to tell her. “My best memories were the winter time when we stayed in one place. Both she and João worked for a trainer, riding colts in training for the upcoming season. I guess that’s where I learned to ride. I remember my mom putting me on a pony on a lunge line. The owner of the stable where the trainer kept his horses had a teenage daughter and I think the pony was hers that they kept after she outgrew him. Sometimes João was there for my lessons, and they talked and laughed a lot together.” River smiled, picturing the happy time in his mind.

  “I think it was the third or fourth winter there, I must have been about seven; this one stable hand started asking me to bring horses in for him. I guess there were a few that were hard to catch sometimes, but I could always get them to come to me. My mom sure got mad when she found out about that.”

  “What did you do when your mom was racing?”

  “She took me with her at first, and I hung out with the stable hands during the day when she was riding. I guess that’s where I learned to speak Spanish. When I was old enough to go to school I always started the year late, and then I had to stay with a family that worked at the winter stable so I could finish the last two months…I hated being left behind.”

  “I can imagine,” Sierra agreed, thinking about how it would feel if her mother left her for a few months every year.”

  They heard Pam exit the bathroom, her footsteps in the hall, and then the sound of her bedroom door closing.

  Shifting into a more upright position, River moved Sierra’s shoulders to turn her around to face him. She put her arms around his neck as he leaned in to kiss her. For awhile, neither of them had an interest in any more talk, as they marveled in the feel and taste of each others’ lips and the warmth of holding each other; a warmth that penetrated deep within their bodies.

  After awhile, River broke away, making a sound like a low moan. He kept his gaze on Sierra’s face, his eyes dark and smoldering. A ghost of a smile passed over his mouth as he smoothed loose strands of hair away from her face.

  Sierra gazed back into his eyes, and then asked, “River, are you attracted to me…I mean, like sexually?”

  His eyes opened wide and he emitted a short laugh. “Of course; why do you even ask that?”

  “Because you never try anything with me.”

  “Do you want me to?” he asked softly, moving his thumb over her cheek and leaving his hand to cradle her face.

  “No…I guess not; I mean…well, I’m afraid of having sex but I want to…someday…with you,” she stumbled over her words as River kissed her in between her hesitant explanation.

  “Sierra, angel, I’m looking forward to that day.”

  A sense of relief filled Sierra; she believed him and she smiled back. Without words, they shifted back into their original position with Sierra leaning against River’s chest and he held her in his arms. She felt safe and secure, and very happy.

  “I do have one secret,” she said after several minutes of contented silence.

  “You do?” he said gently. “Do you want to tell me?”

  “Yes; I’ve never even talked to my mother about this. When I was five years old we were staying at my grandparents for a visit; my mother’s parents. My mother had gone out with some of her old friends and I had fallen asleep on the sofa. But I woke up when I heard my grandmother talking to someone in the kitchen; one of her friends had dropped by. They didn’t know I was awake and they were talking about my father. I told you he was killed in a car accident.”

  “Umhmm,” River mumbled against her hair.

  “I found out from their conversation that my father was drunk that night, and also they said it was a blessing he was killed. My mother was so much better off without him. They said a few other things, but even at five years old, I understood he was not a very nice man.”

  “Your mother never told you?” he asked gently.

  “Whenever I’d ask her about my father she was always very vague. She’d say things like he was a very charming man, or how good-looking he was; but nothing really about him. I eventually just quit asking, because I knew he was bad, and I realized my mother thought she was protecting me from an unpleasant truth.”

  “Yeah, I can see that. Your mother would try to protect you.”

  “So, that’s my dark secret,” Sierra said with a sigh.

  “I’m sorry I said that to you about secrets. It wasn’t very nice,” River apologized, and turned her to face him.

  As they kissed again, Sierra completely forgave him. They nestled together in comfortable silence, letting each other’s nearness and warmth evaporate their hurt feelings.

  “How are things going with Oberon?” she asked after awhile.

  “Not any better,” River answered in a discouraged tone. “Nothing I do seems to make any difference. Man, I wish João were here. I bet he could help me.”

  “Maybe there’s someone else who could help. Have you looked on the internet?”

  “No, why would I do that?”

  It still amazed Sierra how ignorant River was of technology. “Because someone else might have had the same problem and maybe posted in a blog or there might be some articles.”

  “I never thought of that.”

  “Come on, let’s check it out,” Sierra suggested enthusiastically. They reluctantly untangled themselves with a few kisses thrown in, and then retreated to the kitchen table where Sierra set up her laptop. Pam’s friend Ron was handy with electronics and had set their cottage up with wireless internet. With the internet up, Sierra typed in ‘aggressive horse’, and thus they began to check out articles, blogs, and YouTube videos for the next couple hours.

  “Hey you two, it’s almost ten; don’t you have school tomorrow?” Pam stood at the kitchen doorway watching the two kids with their heads together, intent on the laptop screen.

  “Sorry, Mrs. Landsing,” River said, looking up apologetically.

  “The time just got away from us. This is so interesting,” Sierra explained.

  River stood and retrieved his jacket from the back of a chair and put it on.

  “Goodnight,” Pam said with a smile and left the two alone.

  Sierra walked River to the front door, and they kissed goodnight.

  “I can pick you up tomorrow?” River asked.

  “Of course, and I’m looking forward to it. I’d forgotten what a nightmare it is to ride the school bus!”

  *****

  Chapter 11 Ben Jeffers

  If your horse says no, you either asked the wrong question, or asked the question wrong. – Pat Parelli

  *****

  All those trainers, they’ve all figured out the same thing! River lay in his bed after returning from Sierra’s house, thinking about all the information they had gleaned from the internet. The same names had popped up over and over, both men and women, often designated as a ‘horse whisperer’, or claiming to be a proponent of ‘natural horsemanship’. These trainers had been called on to help with horses with difficult behaviors, and some sessions had been videotaped and posted on YouTube, along with many blogs on the subject. Sierra and he had found articles and videos on ‘horse hard to catch’, ‘horse charges handler on lunge line’, ‘horse won’t go into trailer’, ‘horse won’t stand still for mounting’, ‘horse rears’, and many others.

  These trainers all understood the nature of horses; how they interacted within a herd, and their natu
ral instincts as ‘prey’ animals. They understood ‘equine language’. River was surprised to discover that without ever putting it into conscious thought, that he already knew and understood much of what these trainers talked about. Perhaps he had learned from his mother or João, or maybe he had just picked up the knowledge by being around horses for as long as he could remember.

  River also realized that they dealt with problem behaviors that before Oberon, he had never faced in his work with horses. True, he often handled a frightened horse, or a young horse just learning its manners, but they had all responded well to his firm and gentle handling; learning to respect and trust him as the leader. Corazón had been the most difficult; and yes, when he first came to the stable, he had been dangerous. But Cory’s behavior was a result of fear. With time and patience, River had earned his trust.

  Oberon had learned behaviors that went beyond self-defense and fear. He had learned that he was bigger and tougher than humans, and he retained that dominant attitude. Amy had told him that when Oberon had been weaned and turned out with other yearlings, he had quickly stepped into the alpha spot in the herd. He was aggressive by nature, and he liked holding the dominant position.

  I need help; I don’t know what else to do. He remembered a man that used to visit João; how the two of them sat up long hours into the night in João’s comfortable living room, a bottle of wine between them, talking and laughing together. When River stayed over, João let him curl up on the sofa and try to stay awake, for he loved listening in on their conversations about horses. Inevitably he would doze off, only to awaken when one of them laughed especially loud, to listen for awhile before he fell back to sleep. He had loved the friendly banter between them; for the man, a real cowboy, had worked with quarter horses and cattle all his life and chided João about his love of dressage. Yet, both men agreed on basic principles of caring for and riding horses. River would never forget how once the man had described a favorite horse and what a team they had become, not only in working cattle but just riding out on a trail for pleasure. João had said, “Why that sounds like dressage to me.” The other had laughed and said, “Perhaps you are right.”