Heartlines

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

I threw my shoulders into the sliding barn door, and it opened with a groan. The runners got a bit squeaky in the winter, much like I did. I quickly scurried inside the heated barn and closed the door behind me. “Mornin’ Trina!” I called into the aisles. Concreted and matted floors, graced with beautiful wooden stalls made up the amazing barn. I was always so jealous of her, having something so … pretty.

“Hey Krista! Give me two seconds, I’ll be out!” I just nodded to the air, and decided to check the whiteboard while I waited for my trainer. On it were listed the lesson schedules for the day - the kids’ names, along with the horse they’d be riding. I smiled, knowing I was once amongst the names. But ever since I became Trina’s stable hand, she usually just ended up telling me who I rode, for it would and could change – If a lesson horse had been naughty, I was the one to set him straight. If she needed someone worked, I rode that one instead. I was fine with this system, for it worked fine with the both of us. Today, we were skipping the lesson, though. Krista occasionally went out and grabbed project horses when they came on the market. Considering I was always the one to ride them when she didn’t, she always brought me along. It was a fun time, and I enjoyed it.

The training process was quite simple – I’d ride the horse first, and give him the basic groundwork methods needed in the Hunter ring. I would also give the horses dressage bases, to make them more supple and easy to work with for the Hunters. After they had passed all their flatwork tests, Trina would take over to put jump training on them. I didn’t jump, and hadn’t since … the accident. Fear overtook me, and after Ghost had lost his trust in jumping too, I had decided that he knew best. We both became flatwork masters, but decided to keep it to that – flatwork

I walked over to his stall now, and clucked gently, “Ghostly grey, come sweet boy!” I called to him softly, from the outside of his stall. He pricked his ears and lifted his head from his pile of hay, sticking his nose through the iron bars of the stall. I tickled his nose playfully, and he in turn played with my finger with his upper lip. “Oh, you know I’d never forget your peppermints!” I reached in my pocket and offered his favorite treat. He still wasn’t mine, and would likely never be, but he still remained my favorite. The problem was, Trina also loved him, and I knew she’d never sell. He munched happily, as Trina turned the corner. “Ready to go?”

I turned to her and smiled, “As ever! Let’s go!” I said my goodbyes to Ghostly, and we jumped in the truck to leave. “Got the trailer hooked up already? Did you get him sight uneen?” I asked quizzically, for it was hardly something Trina ever did. She liked to check for potential first, to see what the horse would be like to work with. She wasn’t one to go off a hunch. “Yep, sure did. I liked him. You will too.” She was being so short – she was normally one to talk for hours. It was clear something was a secret, so I let it lay. I casually turned up the radio (Country, of course!) and gazed out the window as we drove to our destination.

~*~

“Uh, Trina… I don’t think this is the horse we want,” was all I could manage to say about the topic. The gelding was black as coal, with nothing but a tiny, yet glistening, white snip. His eyes were a deep, almost orange amber color that blazed with fury. He had an attitude to match. “Now, Tee, I told you that this horse wasn’t for your little girl to ride. He’s a-goin’ to need all your attentions, and I mean yours, Tee,” spouted Vince, a horse trader Trina had done business with for … well, forever. She liked to buy youngsters off of him, for he was good at finding some nice bloodlines in the auctions. How he did it, I’d never know, because I’ve never been one to be auction savvy.

“She can ride anything I’ve got, and I know she can ride him. He’s got some fire, but she’s dealt with that before. Haven’t you, Kristene?” She only used my whole first name when she needed me to say something very specific. In this case- “Yes, of course! I’d love to give him a spin, he looks like he’d be .. er, fun.” I choke out as I walk up to the dark horse. He gave a few short, upward bursts with his head against the reins Vince held, connected to a bit that the horse chomped on unhappily. I gently placed my hand on his toned neck, as if he could shock me like an electric fence. He was a beautiful animal, really, if you weren’t focused on the fact that he had ambitions to kill you.