13 January 2006 – Friday
Burkesville, Kentucky
Angellica sat behind her desk practically buried in paper. Her hair had come loose from the bun at the base of her head. She angrily pushed it back behind her ear. She was far too busy to put up with her hair.
She flicked her riding crop against her boot as she wrote her notes about her last interview.
She had one more interview to do according to Vince’s piece of paper that was taped into her diary. Vince’s notes left no name; just that he had heaps of experience with horses and rodeo gigs.
She sighed and checked her watch. Twenty past three. Forty minutes and her mystery man would arrive. She tossed her pen onto the papers and stood up to stretch. She glanced out the window and spotted Vince running along the cleared roadways. Snow had not fallen in two days so it wasn’t a difficult path to follow.
“What now?” She muttered. Vince ran for nothing but an emergency.
Angellica stepped out the door and started towards him, leaving her coat behind.
He called something, but was so breathless, had to stop running.
“What’s happened?” She called out.
“The Admiral... Caelum.”
“Shit.” Angellica swore and started for the corral, reaching it in what seemed record time.
Caelum sat at the edge of the corral, panting in pain. At 16, he was a tall boy, strong for his age.
“You okay?” She asked, as she came through the gate.
“No, I’m not okay, he really hurt me.”
“What are you doing in here?”
Caelum pointed to his hat The Admiral was standing over. His head down, nose snorting.
“A hat!” She asked, “You came in here for a hat?”
“He looked calm enough, I’ve been in before, and I thought it would be okay.”
“Caelum, you know better than this. He’s unpredictable and snotty.”
Caelum nodded, “I know that Mum, but...”
“No buts about it boyo. I’ll get him in his box, you get Vince to help you to the house please, get some ice on that leg, and we need to make sure it’s not broken.”
Caelum nodded.
“Maybe I could dump him in some snow to cool him off?” Vince suggested under his breath.
Angellica glared at him and straightened up, and looked at her stallion. “What’re you doin’?” She asked him and started towards him.
The Admiral backed away. His tail flicked, and ears went back. He’d noticed the whip in her hand.
“Hey,” She whispered, “Come here.” Angellica whistled low, and The Admiral lifted his head slightly, ears coming forward.
She stopped next to him and took hold of his halter.
He threw his head up, pulling the halter from her hand.
“Don’t you dare.” She said, the whip touching his flank. “Calm down.”
The Admiral lowered his head, and let Angellica lead him into his box. At three years old, the Stallion was a handful to say the least, but she loved him dearly. He was due to start his first year as a breeding stallion when spring arrived. Unofficially he was already a father to a dozen foals in the higher pastures.
BINABASA MO ANG
