Chapter Eleven
And that's why, for the next half an hour, I find myself cleaning a stall out for Kate's horse. Note the "Kate" part about all of that. As I pitch in the new woodchips I can't help but feel a little bit bitter. Why do I have to do all of Kate's work while she doesn't have to do a thing to prepare for her new horse?
It doesn't take that long to dump the old woodchips and replace them with a fresh load, considering the stall Kate has chosen hasn't been used in a while, and all the chips are flattened down. The sides of the stall are a little dirty, so I hose them off. At the last minute I remember to get a bucket and fill it full of fresh water.
I have to admit I am a little curious to see her new horse. Does her moving on mean that she won't be so hard on me about Diva? I can only hope, I suppose. When I finish the stall, I put away the pitchfork and wheelbarrow.
On my way to the shed, I see the exercise sheet, and remember that I still have one more horse to ride. Upon closer inspection of the list, it says that the horses name is Going On Thirty. Feeling guilty that I've let the horse sit in it's stall for so long, I look over to see what sort of exercise it needs. Cross country.
I start to panic a little bit, because I've only done cross country on a few occasions, and I don't even know where the course is. That's why you ask Kathy, you idiot, I remind myself and put away the wheelbarrow.
I go back into the stable, and look around until I find Going On Thirty. A bay mare with a pretty dished face and a wide crooked blaze fills the stall I find. I want to say that she's an Arab, but she's much to tall and filled out. She must be crossed with a Thoroughbred or something. But an Arab for sure. It's actually a really good mix of breeds for cross country. Arabians have amazing stamina, and Thoroughbreds are fast. You can't get much better than that really.
Going On Thirty stands still as I clip on the lead rope and lead her out of the stall. She waits patiently as I brush her down in the cross ties and find her saddle. I do up the girth, and then lead her into the stable yard. I climb into the saddle and walk her on a loose rein around the yard, looking for someone so that I can figure out where the cross country course is.
After about ten minutes, I see another rider walk into the stable yard. I shyly walk Going On Thirty up to the rider and smile, "Hey, can I ask you a question?"
She leans against her saddle horn and smiles, "Sure can, honey."
"Thanks," I grin and pat Going On Thirty, "Can you tell me where the cross country course is?"
"The cross country course? Yeah, if you follow that trail," she points to a trail head about fifty meters away, "it takes about ten minutes to walk there."
"Thanks," I smile.
"No problem, honey," she smiled and kicks her horse forward.
I turn Going On Thirty towards the trail. I instantly feel a bounce in her step and I smile. She must know that I'm taking her to the cross country course or something, because I can feel her pulling at the bit. Either that or she just really loves being ridden.
We trot down the cleared trail at an even trot as a warm up. I turn her from side to side so that she's good and limber until we end up in a clearing. I can't see the full course, but from what I can see, it doesn't look to hard.
The first jump is just a simple woodpile, and about ten strides after it is a haystack jump. I canter Going On Thirty around the course so that I can get a quick estimate on how many strides there'll be in between the jumps, and how hard it'll be. None of the jumps I see are over two and a half feet.
I turn the mare back towards the start of the course. She chews the bit, eager to start. I wait for her to calm down a little bit and then push my heels into her sides. Going On Thirty jumps forward in excitement, and I almost lose my seat, but I right myself and turn her towards the woodpile. She jumps over it easily as if it's nothing but a pile of small sticks and we gallop on towards the haystack. We pop over it and head up a small hill where we immediately run into a dug out pit. Going On Thirty falters slightly before the take off, messing up the strides and stumbles on the landing. It's all I can do to hold on and not be unseated.
She quickly rights herself and we gallop on to the next jump. This time, I make sure I spur her on in front of it and she doesn't hesitate to jump over the jump, clearing it by almost a foot and a half. I have to admit that I'm not the most secure in the saddle, since it's been a while since I last jumped at such a speed, so I try to remember everything my mother taught me about cross country.
Going On Thirty bounds over the next jump, and as we race towards the small water jump, I wish I had timed myself. I carefully count the paces as we get closer to the water jump. Five, four, three, two, one...and up. It's my first water jump, and I sneak a little peek underneath my elbow at the blue water.
She lands on the other side, and I turn her back around to the start, galloping full out. When I reach the trail head, I give the reins gentle squeezes, and Going On Thirty stops, hopping up and down a few times. I sigh as she settles down, and we start down the trail back to the stable.
As soon as I get into the stable yard, Kate's truck with a Fire Forest Stable trailer is attached of the back. I want to go see the horse, but I walk Going On Thirty to the stable and replace her bridle with a halter so that I can tie her up in the cross ties. I remove her saddle and brush down her bay coat, which is barely damp with sweat.
Once I have her all brushed down, I put everything away and put her back in her stall, "Good girl."
Diva nickers at me from her stall a little ways down the aisle, and I smile, "Yes, you're a good girl too."
I hear the trailer door slam shut, which means that the are is unloaded. As I walk out of the stable, I shield my eyes from the sun, trying to get a good look at the horse. Kathy joins me as we walk closer.
The horse is a black leopard Appaloosa mare. She looks like she's about sixteen hands high, a little tall for an Appaloosa, but she looks strong and fast. Kathy gasps and extends her hand to the mare.
"What's her name, Kate?" she smiles and strokes the mare's neck. I stand off to the side, watching.
Kate smiles, "Sadistic Lullaby. But I call her Song."
"She's really pretty," I comment and look at the mare some more, "and I got a stall ready for you in the barn. It's all cleaned out and stuff and there's a fresh bucket of water."
"Thanks," the smile leaves her lips for a moment, "I guess that I'll go out her in the stall then since you worked so hard to ready it."
"Great," I nod, and follow her into the stable. "She really is a pretty horse."
"I know," Kate shrugs, "I mean...I did buy her after all."
I frown, "Yeah, but you shouldn't buy a horse based on how she looks."
"I'm not stupid, Blaire."
"I never said you were," I say defensively. That was a mistake. Did I imply that she was stupid or something?
"Fine," she answers, "just don't go around telling me how to deal with horses."
I'm getting frustrated now, "I was never telling you how to deal with horses! It's something I always say when people say they bought a horse cause its nice looking. It's nothing against you at all. It's an instinct."
She whirls around, her hair snapping over her shoulder, "Look, Blaire. I don't what your problem is with me, but I haven't done anything wrong."
Did she really just say that? "I haven't done anything wrong? I have a problem with you? I have been nothing but nice to you, despite the fact that you hate me so much, for some complete unknown reason!"
"Haven't done anything wrong?" she says quietly, "you've done everything wrong, Blaire! First of all, you practically stole Diva from us. We were counting on the money we made from that sale. Our ranch needs money, and we had to sell Diva. Diva was my mom's horse."
Now things are starting to make sense, but I'm still a little confused. That doesn't explain all of the resentment, "I don't understand. If Diva was so important to your mom, then why did she sell her? Why not another horse?"
Tears leak out of Kate's eyes, and her voice wobbles a little bit as she speaks, "No, you don't understand."
"Then maybe you could help me out a little bit."
"My mom is dead!" she finally says, turning around to face Song.
"Kate," I say softly, "I didn't know, ok? I'm really sorry about your mom, but maybe if you had said that in the first place, that would have made I easier for me, because I would have know why you resented me. And I can pay Diva back fully alright? Just let me work enough to get the money..."
"Thats the other thing!" she says angrily, "you took my job. Since the amount of horses have been split between us, I don't get paid enough. Every cent I make goes to the ranch."
"I can see that," I say understandingly, "but did you ever consider that maybe I need the job as well?"
"You need the job?" she scoffs.
My face gets red, "Yes, I do need the job, for reasons that you don't understand, ok? So I can understand the Diva bit, but you have no right to be mad at me about the job."
"Let's just say I know you have money back home alright?" she says.
"Back home? You know nothing about my life back home," I say angrily, my fists balling at my sides.
"I know quite a bit actually," she flips her hair over her other shoulder. "You've won the Provincial dressage finals over three times, and your quite the acclaimed dressage rider in British Columbia as well."
"How do you know all this?" I hiss.
She just smirks, "I know who you are, Blaire Anderson. I know where you come from, and I know who your mother is. I also know that you're a runaway."
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AN: I know it started off boring, but I hope it,got better towards the end! Please vote and comment. Pic on the side is of Sadistic Lullabye.