Burning Desire

Chapter Eighteen

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After just over a month of working Brenna through the same routine of lunging, light lateral work, schooling over some jumps and the occasional hack, Holly advised me that it was time to incorporate some cross country schooling into Brenna's schedule. I'd been putting it off for as long as possible in the fear that the mare would become uncontrollable in her excitement and we would lose the trust we'd been working so hard to establish. But if we were to stand any chance of competing at Kentucky Horse Trials in eight months time, we were going to need to dedicate a lot of time to developing our cross country skills.

I tacked the mare up in her brand new fitted gear that had never been worn before; the leather was sleek but stiff from lack of use, although by the time we competed at Kentucky it would be suppler from usage. I took my time tacking her up, still trying to delay the cross country schooling session for as long as possible. I meticulously ensured the smooth black eventing saddle rested comfortably on the spotless numnah just above the mare's withers, double checking that the girth sat flat around her width; making sure the martingale and bridle were fastened correctly and her forelock wasn't tangled beneath her flashy browband. After the liver chestnut Warmblood was adorned in her flashy tailored tack provided by Belmont's generous sponsors and her muscles had been stretched, I surrendered to the fact that I couldn't put it off any longer.

The mare stood perfectly still beside the mounting block as I ran down the stirrup leathers, and she didn't even flinch as I landed lightly in the saddle. Shuffling my weight about slightly until I'd found my centre of gravity in the new tack, I gathered the reins and nudged the mare forward.

It took a few minutes to walk up the winding dirt track that twisted through the yard and up a slope towards the oversized paddock dotted with fences entitled the 'cross country course'. The slightly higher ground that the course was positioned on offered a picturesque view of Belmont Equestrian Centre, and I paused to admire it for a moment. The landscape captured sleek sport horses grazing contently in their paddocks, the dappled light of the autumn sunshine gleaming on their spotless coats. The American barn which stabled the horses and housed the tack and feed room beamed a rich burgundy beside the huge figure of the indoor arena. Adjacent to that, the wash-bays and solariums dazzled luxuriously opposite the outdoor arena, where Annabel was easing her handsome black gelding, Storm, over an immense fence. They too were qualified and training for Kentucky Horse Trials next summer, and I couldn't deny that I was slightly jealous of how lucky Annabel was to have such a polished and obedient horse to aid her to a competition that was nothing more than experience to her, whilst I was faced with a challenging mount to help make my life-long dream come true.

Brenna began side-stepped and prancing about eagerly once she spotted the cross-country fences. I sat deep in the saddle and ran a hand down her neck to calm the mare. I knew there would be no chance of achieving this completely since she hadn't encountered a cross country fence for months, and she was a keen jumper anyway; her excitement would be uncontrollable. But I could at least hope to contain it slightly so that she would pay attention to my aids.

There was a bitter sting in the air that announced that autumn was fading into winter, and with it the months left to prepare for Kentucky. As the icy breeze laced through the mahogany waves of my hair spilling out from under my riding helmet, I was struck by a sudden urgency at the thought that time was running out. My previous desire to delay time suddenly transformed into the realisation that there wasn't enough of it. I nudged Brenna into a trot firmly, just as eager as her to see her talent across country and to progress with this training process.