Burning Desire

Chapter Eleven

{ A/N – Somewhat a filler chapter....but for some reason I felt very inspired to write about this mare. Also, there are changes in Callum and Madison's behaviour towards one another that may be revealing something.....it's kind of obvious tbh. Anyway, please vote, comment and enjoy. }

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The sun was glowing amber amid the striking turquoise of the sky, feathery clouds like silver rips in the fabric of the heaven. The beauty of the sky was something I would never get used to; you could look at it at any moment and see something beautiful. Even in a storm, when shades of ashen grey monochrome were spread across the heavens, swirls of navy mixed in with it all, as if the sky was a canvas and it had been painted on with a brush that had never been cleaned.

Today, however, there was no storm: instead Ashling was basked in a tenacious yet somehow bearable heat, thanks to a soft breeze laced in the air. The light chestnut Thoroughbred mare beneath me ambled serenely through the yard, her hoof-beats thudding rhythmically along the dirt track that led to the cross country course.

I didn't ride Belmont Liberty often, but when I did I always found myself questioning why she was not one of my more regular mounts. The six year old possessed one of the sweetest natures I'd ever encountered and was a very exciting prospect.

We reached the oversized paddock scattered with cross country questions and Liberty snorted, her relaxed walk turning into an excited skip. I smiled at her enthusiasm and gathered my reins. Squeezing my legs lightly against her sides, I asked her for a trot and began running her through a figure of eight to get her warmed up.

In her youth, Liberty had had a few starts in Ireland as a steeplechase racer and although she didn't place very high, it gave her experience that prepared her for an eventing future. Though young, she'd already been exposed to all types of terrain and encountered ditches and water fences that had conditioned her for cross country. She'd been retired from the track as a sound four year old, and spent one winter in Florida at a rehabilitation centre before coming to Belmont Equestrian Centre where we were harnessing her potential as an eventer.

As we approached a roll-top at a steady canter, Liberty snorted and jerked to an awkward half-halt before propelling herself over the fence. She was a spooky, careful type; always wanting to be aware exactly what she was doing with all 17.1 hands of her lanky frame.

I stroked her withers to reassure her as we landed, slowing her back to a trot. She was a rangey horse, throwing herself into the air in an unorthodox manner, but she still had an excellent jumping form.

Another figure lurched at the entrance to the cross country course and Liberty nickered in response to their presence. As they approached, I recognized the rider as Callum, mounted about a small bay horse with striking markings that I'd never ridden before.

"Mind if we share the course?" he called out.

"Fine," I replied gruffly. The course wasn't very big, and sharing it with another rider would only make it more claustrophobic. But I ignored my selfish protest and pushed Liberty back into a canter.

I leaned forward in the saddle, pushing my weight down through my heels. We shuddered over a brush fence and landed deep, so I had to kick the mare on as I pointed her at a set of X-rails that followed just a few strides after. But Liberty locked onto the fence nicely, her ears pricked and her canter rhythmic. She popped over the rails more smoothly and I rewarded her with praise.

"Good girl, Libby!" I gushed, stroking her neck. I slowed her to a trot as my gaze fell upon Callum and his horse popping over a reasonably sized trakehner. He caught me looking and offered me a small smirk.