Heartlines

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

After settling Kiro in his stall, Trina decided to have a chat with me in front of his stall door. “Krista, you are my star rider, and I love you. But please, tell me how in the world you made that horse do anything for you. He was a complete mess when I rode him – just strung out, heavy, and not listening. But you get on and he’s a perfect angel. I just don’t get it.” I honestly didn’t know anything about it either. I hadn’t done anything special, just rode how I normally do. “I don’t know,” I started, “I just … I guess we just clicked. What did Vince tell you about the horse before we got there? He said he threw people, but that’s all I know,” I inquired, curious of Kiro’s past. He did seem full of secrets, and not all of them kind.

“Well, that’s the basis of it. He said Kiro would do anything to get someone off his back. Buck, rear, twist, bolt, even just stop dead in the middle of a run. I mean, you saw the measures he went to to get me off. Something is nasty about that horse, I’m sure of it.” She did seem hard on Kiro, and I felt bad for him, especially seeing as he’d done no wrong to me. “But, Trina, if you don’t like him so much, why did you get him? He won’t keep you on his back! So how will you train him to jump? I mean, he’s already got his dressage basics down. I don’t think I could teach him anything,” I admitted embarrassingly. Trina went silent for a moment, and looked to her feet. After pondering for a moment, she looked me dead in the eye, and told me, “I’m not. You are.”

I really didn’t know what to say. I wouldn’t jump, couldn’t jump, since the fall with Ghost. It’d left his hip cracked, and me broken in a number of places. Not to mention our shattered confidence. I’d tried jumping with many of Trina’s school horses, all I knew would take me over gladly, with no issues. The jumps were tiny, 2 foot. But for some reason, it was always last minute – I’d pull the horse to a halt, or to the side of the jump if he wouldn’t stop. Trina would yell and holler, push me to do it, but in the end she knew she couldn’t. I trusted her more than any person I knew, but something inside me blocked me from soaring once again. The feeling I once loved, I no longer remember, and no longer desire. Ghost was now a lesson horse, whom I still ride and love. The only difference? Jumping is out of our schedules now.

“No,” was all I could make out. “Well then I’m taking him back to Vince,” came Trina’s bitter reply. She turned to walk away, grabbing her truck keys off the table. “Grab him, load him in the trailer,” She called without turning. I refused the command, not willing to let go of Kiro. There was something about him I knew I had to hold on to, something I couldn’t release, “No! I won’t take him back!” I called back to my trainer. She turned swiftly, facing me again, “Well then you’ll have to train him. I obviously can’t do it, and that horse has the potential to really go somewhere – and you know it just as much as I do. So do something about it. Tack the horse up, and meet me in the arena in 5 minutes. That, or load him in the trailer. Those are your options, Krista, pick which one you want.” I stood there stunned for a moment, then nodded. It was lesson time. I grabbed Kiro’s red nylon halter, clipped it to his lead, and placed him in the crossties across from his stall. I took my red saddle pad, with white trim, and placed it upon his back. Then came the saddle, and leather girth, without a hitch. Kiro was truly a different horse from where we had picked him up - before he had been flighty and aggressive, stepping away from the tack, and even kicked out at Vince when he tightened the girth before. “Just playing favorites, aren’t you buddy?” I teased the big black boy. He looked back at me with his dark amber eyes, almost speaking back to me. I smiled, and bridled him. Led him to the arena, and mounted him.

“Okay, I’m ready,” I turned to Trina, standing in the middle of the arena. She smiled and nodded, pleased to see me on the big black gelding. “You know, you two do look pretty good together. But no matter. Let’s get started.”

She started with just putting us through the paces. Walking, extended walking, a collected walk, and all of the above at the trot and canter as well. All simple things I knew and could execute well. I could tell it was almost … a test. For something I knew was imminent. “Okay, go ahead and take on walk around the small field to cool off a bit. Then come right back.” I knew what she was doing – sending me away so she could set up standards. She was crazy. I wouldn’t jump before, nothing was changing now. But I obliged, letting her think that she could get away with her tactics for now.

The winter air was nice, and crisp. I always loved the winter. The pasture was low on grass, as they always were in the colder months. But they made for a lovely ride. It was just about February now, so not as bitter as it could be. The afternoon time of day made for a nice sun to ride by as well, so things were nice. I loved taking rides in the pasture. I always wished I could do more trail riding, but Trina’s property didn’t have any, and the closest trails were miles and miles away. So it was never really convenient. I reached down to pat Kiro’s neck, “No worries, bud. I’ll make sure to get you out there some time. It doesn’t look like anyone else will be riding you, so I bet we’ll be spending lots of time together!” I giggled. I liked the idea of having Kiro to myself, as he was so wonderful, and I really felt a connection with him – one that was almost as strong as me and Ghost’s, which was hard to say, considering me and Ghost had built that bond over many, many years, and Kiro and I’s came so … suddenly.

Before I knew it, I had circled back around the pasture, and came back to the gate. I took a deep breath, then asked Kiro to walk on back into the indoor arena. And, to no great surprise, I found myself a series of three jumps set in a line. They were all tiny – the first a cross-rail, the second an extremely low vertical, and the third maybe a 2 foot vertical. All looked like skyscrapers to me though. Jumping was out of the question. It had put Ghost in too much danger before, and had ruined his jumping career – all because I didn’t give him his head. I wasn’t meant to jump. I knew this, and I refused to do it again. I wasn’t going to ruin another horse.

“Okay Krista. I know what you’re thinking. But please just try. Maybe you’ve found your horse, that can pull you out of this fear spot you’re having. Just please. For me? For Kiro?” She pleaded with me. I knew the outcome of this, but I simply nodded, much to her delight. “Great! Then let’s get started! Start by just walking over the jumps. I’ll make them poles for you.” I guided Kiro to the line of poles after Trina had finished lowering them. I had done pole lines several times before, and they didn’t bother me. I couldn’t harm a horse with pole-work, and actually rode Ghost through such practice frequently. None the less, I went into my jumping position, and walked Kiro over the poles with confidence. He was happy to do so. “Good! Now trot,” came my next instruction. I did the same exercise at the higher gait, still as easily as I had before.

In fact, this trend continued all the way up to the point where each pole was raised on one side – the poles may have been 6 inches off the ground on the highest side, but it was an accomplishment, at least for Trina. I had actually never gotten that far before. I always chickened out after the poles stopped being flush with the ground. Kiro was a champ – lifted each leg in the perfect form, never touched a single pole the whole time. “That’s great Krista, that’s fantastic. Just keep going around at the trot like that.” She took one of the poles, and made it a cross-rail. Still tiny. 6 inches off the ground, again, at the highest point. The point where I would actually jump was likely 3 inches. But for the first time in years, I let myself go over that 3 inch cross-rail. I couldn’t believe it, but it had happened. And Trina was overjoyed. As was I! I looked down at Kiro, unbelievably proud of the wonderful horse. “You may be a one-person horse,” I whispered to him, “But you’re my one horse … and that’s all I need…”